Heywood, Thomas · published 1600 · first performed or written 1599 [1592-1599] (Annals) history · Derby's (Strange's) Men unassigned nearest T38 Death, parting and grief at court · 447 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T38: queen, king, death, dead, heart, life, die, lord, royal, news.
Spurn the whore (mother) tear those enticing eyes, That robbed you of King Edward's dearest love. Mangle those locks, the baits to his desires, Let me come to her, you but stand and talk, As if revenge consisted but in words. Son stand aloof, and do not trouble me, Alas poor soul, as much ado have I, To for bear tears to keep her company. Yet once more will I to my former humour. Why as I am, think that thou wert a Queen, And I as thou should wrong thy princely bed, And win the king thy husband, as thou mine: Would it not sting thy soul? Or if that I Being a Queen, while thou didst love thy husband: Should but have done as thou hast done to me, Would it not grieve thee? yes I warrant thee. There's not the meanest woman that doth live, But if she like and love her husband well, She had rather feel his warm limbs in her bed Then see him in the arms of any Queen, You are flesh and blood as we, and we as you, And all alike in our affections, Though majestic makes us the more ambitious. What 'tis to fall into so great a hand, Knowledge might teach thee. There was once a king Henry the second, who did keep his leman, Caged up at Woodstock in a Labyrinth, His Queen yet got a trick to find her out, And how she used her, I am sure thou hast heard, Thou art not mewed up in some secret place, But kept in Court here underneath my nose, Now in the absence of my Lord the King, Have I not time most fitting for revenge? Fair Rosamond, she a pure virgin was, Until the King seduced her to his will. She wronged but one bed, only the angry Queens, But thou hast wronged two, mine & thy husbands, Be thine own judge, and now in justice see, What due revenge I ought to take on thee. even what you will (great Queen) here do I lie, Humble and prostrate at your highness feet, Inflict on me what may revenge your wrong, Was never lamb abode more patiently, Than I will do. Call all your griefs to mind, And do even what you will, or how likes you, I will not stir, I will not shriek or cry, Be it torture poison, any punishment, Was never Done, or Turtle more submiss, Than I will be unto your chastisement. Fetched I her for this? mother let me come to her, And what compassion will not suffer you To do to her, refer the same to me.
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)
Spurne the whore (mother) teare those enticing eies, That robd you of King Edwards dearest loue. Mangle those locks, the baits to his desires, Let me come to her, you but stand and talke, As if reuenge consisted but in words. Sonne stand aloofe, and do not trouble me, Alas poore soule, as much adoe haue I, To for beare teares to keepe her companie. Yet once more will I to my former humor. Why as I am, thinke that thou wert a Queene, And I as thou should wrong thy princely bed, And winne the king thy husband, as thou mine: Would it not sting thy soule? Or if that I Being a Queen, while y• didst loue thy husband: Should but haue done as thou hast done to me, Would it not grieue thee? yes I warrant thee. There's not the meanest woman that doth liue, But if she like and loue her husband well, She had rather feele his warme lmmes in her bed Then sée him in the armes of any Queene, You are flesh and bloud as we, and we as you, And all alike in our affections, Though maiestic makes vs the more ambitious. What tis to fall into so great a hand, Knowledge might teach thée. There was once a king Henry the second, who did keepe his lemman, Cag'de vp at Woodstocke in a Labyrinth, His Quéene yet got a tricke to finde her out, And how she vsde her, I am sure thou hast heard, Thou art not mewde vp in some secret place, But kept in Court here vnderneath my nose, Now in the absence of my Lord the King, Haue I not time most fitting for reuenge? Faire Rosamond, she a pure virgin was, Vntill the King seduc'de her to his will. She wrongd but one bed, only the angry Quéenes, But thou hast wronged two, mine & thy husbands, Be thine owne Iudge, and now in iustice see, What due reuenge I ought to take on thee. Euen what you wil (great Quéen) here do I lie, Humble and prostrate at your Highnesse feet, Inflict on me what may reuenge your wrong, Was neuer lambe abode more patiently, Then I will doe. Call all your griefes to mind, And do euen what you will, or how likes you, I will not stirre, I wil not shrike or crie, Be it torture poison, any punishment, Was neuer Done, or Turtle more submisse, Then I wil be vnto your chastisement. Fetcht I her for this? mother let me come to her, And what compassion will not suffer you To d to her, referre the same to me.