Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1597 [c.1596-1597] (Annals) history · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men unassigned nearest T18 Rebels, barons and the king's wars at ho · 448 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T18: king, lord, wallace, earl, edward, england, scotland, rebels, bruce, english.
SO shaken as we are, so wan with care, Find we a time for frighted Peace to pant, And breath shortwinded accents of new broils To be commenced in Strands afar remote: No more the thirsty entrance of this Soil, Shall daub her lips with her own children's blood: No more shall trenching War channel her fields, Nor bruise her Flowrets with the Armed hooves Of hostile paces. Those opposed eyes, Which like the Meteors of a troubled Heaven, All of one Nature, of one Substance bred, Did lately meet in the intestine shock, And furious close of civil Butchery, Shall now in mutual well-beseeming ranks March all one way, and be no more opposed Against Acquaintance, Kindred, and Allies. The edge of War, like an ill-sheathed knife, No more shall cut his Master. Therefore Friends, As far as to the Sepulchre of Christ, Whose Soldier now under whose blessed Cross We are impressed and engaged to fight, Forthwith a power of English shall we levy, Whose arms were moulded in their Mother's womb, To chase these Pagans in those holy Fields, Over whose Acres walked those blessed feet Which fourteen hundred years ago were nailed For our advantage on the bitter Cross. But this our purpose is a twelve month old, And bootless 'tis to tell you we will go: Therefore we meet not now. Then let me hear Of you my gentle Cousin Westmoreland, What vesternight our Council did decree, In forwarding this dear expedience. My Liege: This haste was hot in question, And many limits of the Charge set down But yesternight: when all athwart there came A Post from Wales, loaden with heavy News; Whose worst was, That the Noble Mortimer, Leading the men of Herefordshire to fight Against the irregular and wild Glendower, Was by the rude hands of that Welshman taken, And a thousand of his people butchered: Upon whose dead corpses there was such misuse, Such beastly, shameless transformation, By those Welshwomen done, as may not be (Without much shame) retold or spoken of. It seems then, that the tidings of this broil, Broke off our business for the Holy land. This matched with other like, my gracious Lord, far more uneven and unwelcome News Came from the North, and thus it did report: On Holy-roode day, the gallant Hotspurre there, Young Harry Percy, and brave Archibald, That ever-valiant and approved Scot, At Holmeden met, where they did spend A sad and bloody hour: As by discharge of their Artillery, And shape of likelihood the news was told: For he that brought them, in the very heat And pride of their contention, did take horse, Uncertain of the issue any way.
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: T13 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
SO ſhaken as we are, ſo wan with care, Finde we a time for frighted Peace to pant, And breath ſhortwinded accents of new broils To be commenc'd in Stronds a-farre remote: No more the thirſty entrance of this Soile, Shall daube her lippes with her owne childrens blood: No more ſhall trenching Warre channell her fields, Nor bruiſe her Flowrets with the Armed hoofes Of hoſtile paces. Thoſe oppoſed eyes, Which like the Meteors of a troubled Heauen, All of one Nature, of one Subſtance bred, Did lately meete in the inteſtine ſhocke, And furious cloze of ciuill Butchery, Shall now in mutuall well-beſeeming rankes March all one way, and be no more oppos'd Againſt Acquaintance, Kindred, and Allies. The edge of Warre, like an ill-ſheathed knife, No more ſhall cut his Maſter. Therefore Friends, As farre as to the Sepulcher of Chriſt, Whoſe Souldier now vnder whoſe bleſſed Croſſe We are impreſſed and ingag'd to fight, Forthwith a power of Engliſh ſhall we leuie, Whoſe armes were moulded in their Mothers wombe, To chace theſe Pagans in thoſe holy Fields, Ouer whoſe Acres walk'd thoſe bleſſed feete Which fourteene hundred yeares ago were nail'd For our aduantage on the bitter Croſſe. But this our purpoſe is a twelue month old, And bootleſſe 'tis to tell you we will go: Therefore we meete not now. Then let me heare Of you my gentle Couſin Weſtmerland, What veſternight our Councell did decree, In forwarding this deere expedience. My Liege: This haſte was hot in queſtion, And many limits of the Charge ſet downe But yeſternight: when all athwart there came A Poſt from Wales, loaden with heauy Newes; Whoſe worſt was, That the Noble Mortimer, Leading the men of Herefordſhire to fight Againſt the irregular and wilde Glendower, Was by the rude hands of that Welſhman taken, And a thouſand of his people butchered: Vpon whoſe dead corpes there was ſuch miſuſe, Such beaſtly, ſhameleſſe transformation, By thoſe Welſhwomen done, as may not be (Without much ſhame) re-told or ſpoken of. It ſeemes then, that the tidings of this broile, Brake off our buſineſſe for the Holy land. This matcht with other like, my gracious Lord, Farre more vneuen and vnwelcome Newes Came from the North, and thus it did report: On Holy-roode day, the gallant Hotſpurre there, Young Harry Percy, and braue Archibald, That euer-valiant and approoued Scot, At Holmeden met, where they did ſpend A fad and bloody houre: As by diſcharge of their Artillerie, And ſhape of likely-hood the newes was told: For he that brought them, in the very heate And pride of their contention, did take horſe, Vncertaine of the iſſue any way.