Shakespeare, William · published 1598 · first performed or written 1597 [c.1596-1597] (Annals) history · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men unassigned nearest T42 English historical figures: a mixed clus · 474 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T42: harry, percy, lord, king, god, falstalffe, frances, mowbray, life, mortimer.
Coosen I think thou art enamoured On his follies, never did I hear Of any prince so wild a liberty, But be he as he will, yet once ere night I will embrace him with a soldiers arm, That he shall shrink under my courtesy, Arm, arm with speed, and fellows, soldiers, friends, Better consider what you have to do Then I that have not well the gift of tongue Can lift your blood up with persuasion. My Lord, here are letters for you. I cannot read them now, O Gentlemen the time of life is short, To spend that shortness basely were too long If life did ride upon a dials point, Still ending at the arrival of an hour, And if we live we live to tread on kings, If die, brave death when princes die with us, Now for our consciences, the arms are fair When the intent of bearing them is just. My Lord prepare, the king comes on a pace. I thank him that he cuts me from my tale, For I profess not talking only this, Let each man do his best, and here draw I a sword, Whose temper I intent to stain With the best blood that I can meet withal. In the adventure of this perilous day, Now esperance Percy and set on, Sound all the lofty instruments of war, And by that Music let us all embrace▪ For heaven to earth some of us never shall A second time do such a courtesy. What is thy name that in battle thus thou crossest me, What honour dost thou seek upon my head? Know then my name is Douglas, And I do haunt thee in the battle thus Because some tell me that thou art a king. They tell thee true. The Lord of Stafford dear to day hath bought Thy likeness, for in steed of thee king Harry This sword hath ended him, so shall it thee Unless thou yield thee as my prisoner. I was not borne a yeelder thou proud Scot, And thou shalt find a king that will revenge Lord Staffords death. O Douglas hadst thou fought at Holmedon thus I never had triumphed upon a Scot all's done, als won here, breathless lies the king. Where? Here. This Douglas? no, I know this face full well, A gallant knight he was, his name was Blunt, Semblably furnished like the king himself. Ah fool, go with thy soul whither it goes, A borrowed title hast thou bought too dear. Why didst thou tell me that thou wert a king? The king hath many marching in his coats. Now by my sword I will kill all his coats. I'll murder all his wardrobe, piece by piece Until I meet the king. Up and away, Our soldiers stand full fairly for the day.
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Cosen I thinke thou art enamored On his follies, neuer did I heare Of any prince so wilde a libertie, But be he as he will, yet once ere night I will imbrace him wih a souldiours arme, That he shall shrinke vnder my curtesie, Arme, arme with speed, and fellowes, soldiors, friends, Better consider what you haue to do Then I that haue not wel the gift of tongue Can lift your blood vp with perswasion. My Lord, here are letters for you. I cannot read them now, O Gentlemen the time of life is short, To spend that shortnes basely were too long If life did ride vpon a dials point, Still ending at the arriuall of an houre, And if we liue we liue to tread on kings, If die, braue death when princes die with vs, Now for our consciences, the armes are faire When the intent of bearing them is iust. My Lord prepare, the king comes on a pace. I thanke him that he cuts me from my tale, For I professe not talking onely this, Let each man do his best, and here draw I a sword, Whose temper I intend to staine With the best bloud that I can meet withall. In the aduenture of this perillous day, Now esperance Percy and set on, Sound all the loftie instruments of war, And by that Musicke let vs all embrace▪ For heauen to earth some of vs neuer shall A second time do such a courtesie. What is thy name that in battell thus thou crossest me, What honour dost thou seeke vpon my head? Know then my name is Douglas, And I do haunt thee in the battell thus Because some tell me that thou art a king. They tell thee true. The Lord of Stafford deare to day hath bought Thy likenesse, for in steed of thee king Harry This sword hath ended him, so shall it thee Vnlesse thou yeeld thee as my prisoner. I was not borne a yeelder thou proud Scot, And thou shalt find a king that will reuenge Lord Staffords death. O Douglas hadst thou fought at Holmedon thus I neuer had triumpht vpon a Scot. Als done, als won here, breathles lies the king. Where? Here. This Douglas? no, I know this face full well, A gallant knight he was, his name was Blunt, Semblably furnisht like the king himselfe. Ah foole, goe with thy soule whither it goes, A borrowed title hast thou bought too deare. Why didst thou tell me that thou wert a king? The king hath many marching in his coates. Now by my sword I will kill al his coates. Ile murder all his wardrop, peece by peece Vntill I meete the king. Vp and away, Our souldiers stand full fairely for the day.