Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1597 [c.1596-1597] (Annals) history · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men unassigned nearest T53 The crown: kingship claimed, resigned an · 473 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T53: crown, king, state, life, lord, lords, live, queen, tullia, prince.
Cousin, I think thou art enamoured On his Follies: never did I hear Of any Prince so wild at Liberty. But be he as he will, yet once ere night, I will embrace him with a Soldier's arm, That he shall shrink under my courtesy. Arm, arm with speed. And Fellow's, Soldiers, Friends, Better consider what you have to do, That 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 Dial's point, Still ending at the arrival of an hour, And if we live, we live to tread on Kings: If dye; brave death, when Princes die with us. Now for our Consciences, the Arms is fair, When the intent for bearing them is just. My Lord prepare, the King comes on apace. 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 I draw a Sword, Whose worthy 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 Dowglas, 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 instead of thee King Harry, This Sword hath ended him, so shall it thee, Unless thou yield thee as a Prisoner. I was not borne to yield, thou haughty Scot, And thou shalt find a King that will revenge Lords Staffords death. O Dowglas, hadst thou fought at Holmedon thus I never had triumphed o'er a Scot All's done, all's won, here breathless lies the king Where? here. This Dowglas? 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 whether it goes, A borrowed Title hast thou bought too dear. Why didst thou tell me, that thou were't 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)
Couſin, I thinke thou art enamored On his Follies: neuer did I heare Of any Prince ſo wilde at Liberty. But be he as he will, yet once ere night, I will imbrace him with a Souldiers arme, That he ſhall ſhrinke vnder my curteſie. Arme, arme with ſpeed. And Fellow's, Soldiers, Friends, Better conſider what you haue to do, That I that haue not well the gift of Tongue, Can lift your blood vp with perſwaſion. My Lord, heere are Letters for you. I cannot reade them now. O Gentlemen, the time of life is ſhort; To ſpend that ſhortneſſe 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 treade on Kings: If dye; braue death, when Princes dye with vs. Now for our Conſciences, the Armes is faire, When the intent for bearing them is iuſt. My Lord prepare, the King comes on apace. I thanke him, that he cuts me from my tale: For I profeſſe not talking: Onely this, Let each man do his beſt. And heere I draw a Sword, Whoſe worthy temper I intend to ſtaine With the beſt blood that I can meete withall, In the aduenture of this perillous day. Now Eſperance Percy, and ſet on: Sound all the lofty Inſtruments of Warre, And by that Muſicke, let vs all imbrace: For heauen to earth, ſome of vs neuer ſhall, A ſecond time do ſuch a curteſie. What is thy name, that in battel thus yu croſſeſt me? What honor doſt thou ſeeke vpon my head? Know then my name is Dowglas, 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 deere to day hath bought Thy likeneſſe: for inſted of thee King Harry, This Sword hath ended him, ſo ſhall it thee, Vnleſſe thou yeeld thee as a Priſoner. I was not borne to yeeld, thou haughty Scot, And thou ſhalt finde a King that will reuenge Lords Staffords death. O Dowglas, hadſt thou fought at Holmedon thus I neuer had triumphed o're a Scot. All's done, all's won, here breathles lies the king Where? Heere. This Dowglas? No, I know this face full well: A gallant Knight he was, his name was Blunt, Semblably furniſh'd like the King himſelfe. Ah foole: go with thy ſoule whether it goes, A borrowed Title haſt thou bought too deere. Why didſt thou tell me, that thou wer't a King? The King hath many marching in his Coats. Now by my Sword, I will kill all his Coates, Ile murder all his Wardrobe peece by peece, Vntill I meet the King. Vp, and away, Our Souldiers ſtand full fairely for the day.