Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1597 [c.1596-1597] (Annals) history · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men T42 English historical figures: a mixed clus typicality 0.85 · 485 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T42: harry, percy, lord, king, god, falstalffe, frances, mowbray, life, mortimer.
Had his great Name profaned with their Scorns, And gave his Countenance, against his Name, To laugh at gibing Boys, and stand the push Of every Beardless vain Comparative; Grew a Companion to the common Streets, Enfeoffed himself to Popularity: That being daily swallowed by men's Eyes, They surfeited with Honey, and began to loathe The taste of Sweetness, whereof a little More than a little, is by much too much. So when he had occasion to be seen, He was but as the Cuckoo is in Iune, Heard, not regarded: seen but with such Eyes, As sick and blunted with Community, Afford no extraordinary Gaze, Such as is bend on Sunlike Majesty, When it shines seldom in admiring Eyes: But rather drowzed, and hung their eyelids down, Slept in his Face, and rendered such aspect As Cloudy men use to do to their adversaries, Being with his presence glutted, gorged, and full. And in that very Line, Harry, standest thou: For thou hast lost thy Princely Privilege, With vile participation. Not an Eye But is a weary of thy common sight, Save mine, which hath desired to see thee more: Which now doth that I would not have it do, Make blind itself with foolish tenderness. I shall hereafter, my thrice gracious Lord, Be more myself. For all the World, As thou art to this hour, was Richard then, When I from France set foot at Ravenspurgh; And even as I was then, is Percy now: Now by my Sceptre, and my Soul to boot, He hath more worthy interest to the State Then thou, the shadow of Succession; For of no Right, nor colour like to Right. He doth fill fields with Harness in the Realm, Turns head against the Lion's armed jaws; And being no more in debt to years, than thou, Leads ancient Lords, and reverent Bishops on To bloody Battles, and to bruising Arms. What never-dying Honour hath he got, Against renowned Dowglas? whose high Deeds, Whose hot Incursions, and great Name in Arms, Holds from all Soldiers chief majority, And Military Title Capital. Through all the Kingdoms that acknowledge Christ, Thrice hath the Hotspur Mars, in swathing Clothes, This Infant Warrior, in his Enterprises, Discomfited great Dowglas, ta'en him once, Enlarged him, and made a friend of him, To fill the mouth of deep Defiance up, And shake the peace and safety of our Throne. And what say you to this? Percy, Northumberland, The Archbishops Grace of York, Dowglas, Mortimer, Capitulate against us, and are up. But wherefore do I tell these News to thee? Why, Harry, do I tell thee of my Foes, Which art my nearest and dearest Enemy? Thou, that art like enough, through vassal Fear, Base Inclination, and the start of Spleen, To fight against me under Percies pay, To dog his heels, and curtsy at his frowns, To show how much thou art degenerate.
Other edition — placed after the fit, excluded from the main statistics
Position
nodes 1214–1279 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 30 of 48 in this edition
Length
485 words · 676 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T42 — English historical figures: a mixed clustercontext only — excluded from the genre comparison · typicality 0.847 (cosine to the topic centroid) · placed after the fit (approximate_predict), not counted in the topic statistics
Other seeds
seed 43: T43 · seed 44: T43 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Had his great Name prophaned with their Scornes, And gaue his Countenance, againſt his Name, To laugh at gybing Boyes, and ſtand the puſh Of euery Beardleſſe vaine Comparatiue; Grew a Companion to the common Streetes, Enfeoff'd himſelfe to Popularitie: That being dayly ſwallowed by mens Eyes, They ſurfeted with Honey, and began to loathe The taſte of Sweetneſſe, whereof a little More then a little, is by much too much. So when he had occaſion to be ſeene, He was but as the Cuckow is in Iune, Heard, not regarded: ſeene but with ſuch Eyes, As ſicke and blunted with Communitie, Affoord no extraordinarie Gaze, Such as is bent on Sunne-like Maieſtie, When it ſhines ſeldome in admiring Eyes: But rather drowz'd, and hung their eye-lids downe, Slept in his Face, and rendred ſuch aſpect As Cloudie men vſe to doe to their aduerſaries, Being with his preſence glutted, gorg'd, and full. And in that very Line, Harry, ſtandeſt thou: For thou haſt loſt thy Princely Priuiledge, With vile participation. Not an Eye But is a wearie of thy common ſight, Saue mine, which hath deſir'd to ſee thee more: Which now doth that I would not haue it doe, Make blinde it ſelfe with fooliſh tenderneſſe. I ſhall hereafter, my thrice gracious Lord, Be more my ſelfe. For all the World, As thou art to this houre, was Richard then, When I from France ſet foot at Rauenſpurgh; And euen as I was then, is Percy now: Now by my Scepter, and my Soule to boot, He hath more worthy intereſt to the State Then thou, the ſhadow of Succeſſion; For of no Right, nor colour like to Right. He doth fill fields with Harneis in the Realme, Turnes head againſt the Lyons armed Iawes; And being no more in debt to yeeres, then thou, Leades ancient Lords, and reuerent Biſhops on To bloody Battailes, and to bruſing Armes. What neuer-dying Honor hath he got, Againſt renowned Dowglas? whoſe high Deedes, Whoſe hot Incurſions, and great Name in Armes, Holds from all Souldiers chiefe Maioritie, And Militarie Title Capitall. Through all the Kingdomes that acknowledge Chriſt, Thrice hath the Hotſpur Mars, in ſwathing Clothes, This Infant Warrior, in his Enterpriſes, Diſcomfited great Dowglas, ta'ne him once, Enlarged him, and made a friend of him, To fill the mouth of deepe Defiance vp, And ſhake the peace and ſafetie of our Throne. And what ſay you to this? Percy, Northumberland, The Arch-biſhops Grace of Yorke, Dowglas, Mortimer, Capitulate againſt vs, and are vp. But wherefore doe I tell theſe Newes to thee? Why, Harry, doe I tell thee of my Foes, Which art my neer'ſt and deareſt Enemie? Thou, that art like enough, through vaſſall Feare, Baſe Inclination, and the ſtart of Spleene, To fight againſt me vnder Percies pay, To dogge his heeles, and curtſie at his frownes, To ſhew how much thou art degenerate.