Heywood, Thomas · published 1600 · first performed or written 1599 [1592-1599] (Annals) history · Derby's (Strange's) Men unassigned nearest T53 The crown: kingship claimed, resigned an · 485 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T53: crown, king, state, life, lord, lords, live, queen, tullia, prince.
This is King Richard's hand, I know it well, And this of thine is justly counterfeit, As hee himselfe would sweare it were ou n. The king's hand 〈◊〉 more of that. Why every letter, every little dash, In all respects alike, how may I use, My transportation of my cousin and hides, Without the danger of forbidding law, And so I would have done in Edward's days, But that good mistress Shore did please to cross me, But mark how now I will requite her for it. I moved my suit, and plainly told the King, Some would relieve her, if no man had charge, To see severely to the contrary. Forth with his Grace appointed me the man, And gave me officers to wait upon me, Which will so countenance thy cunning work, As I shall no way be suspected in it: how sayst thou Fog? It will do well indeed: But good sir have a care in any case, For else you know what barm may come thereon. A care sayst thou? why man, I will not trust My house, my strongest locks, nor any place, But mine own bosom, there will I keep it still, If I miscarry, so doth it with me. Are ye so cunning sir, I say no more, Iane Shore or I may quittance you for this. Well Fog I have contented thee, Thou mayst be gone, I must about my charge, To see that none relieve Shoares wife with aught. Come on good fellows, you that must attend, King Richard's service under my command, Your charge is to be very vigilant, Over that strumpet whom they call Shoares wife: If any traitor give her but a mite, A draft of water, or a crust of bread, Or any other food whate'er it be, Lay hold on him, for it is present death, By good King Richard's proclamation, This is her haunt, here stand I Sentinel, Keep you unseen, and aid me when I call. Now must I under colour of playing at bowls, help till relieve my good masters, masters Shore. Come, Ieffrey, we will play five up for this bottle of Ale, and yonder good pure woman shall keep the stakes, and this cheese shall be the master. Here is a villain, that will not relieve her, But yet he'll lose he bowls, that way to help her, Apprehend him fellows when I bid ye: Although his mate be gone, he shall pay for it. Take him, and let the Beadles whip him well. Hear ye sir, shall they be whipped and hanged that give to the pure, than they shall be damn that take fro the pure. Oh yonder sits the sweet forsaken soul, To whom for ever I stand deeply bound: She saved my life, than Air help to save hers. Whither go ye sir? You come to give this strumpet some relief.
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)
This is King Richards hand, I know it well, And this of thine is iustly counterfeit, As hee himselfe would sweare it were ou n. The kings hand more of that. Why cue letter, euerie little ash, In all respectes alike, how may I vse, My transportation of my cozne and hides, Without the danger of forbidding lawe, And so I would haue done in Edwards daies, But that good ris Shoare did please to crosse mée, But marke how now I will requite her for it. I moude my sute, and plainely tolde the King, Som would reliee her, if no man had charge, To sée seucrcly to the contrarie. Forth with his Grace appointed mee the man, And gaue mee officers to waite vpon mee, Which will so countenance thy cunning worke, As I shall no way be suspected in it: how saist thou Fogge? It will do well indéed: But good sir haue a care in any case, For else you know what barme may come thereon. A care saist thou? why man, I will not trust My house, my strongest locks, nor any place, But mine owne bosome, there will I kéepe it still, If I miscarrie, so doth it with mee. Are yee so cunning sir, I say no more, Iane Shoare or I may quittance you for this. Well Fogge I haue contented thee, Thou maist be gone, I must about my charge, To sée that none reléeue Shoares wife with ought. Come on good fellowes, you that must atcend, King Richards seruice vnder my commaund, Your charge is to be verie vigilant, Ouer that strumpet whom they call Shoares wife: If any traitour giue her but a mite, A draught of water, or a crust of bread, Or any other foode what ere it bee, Lay hold on him, for it is present death, By good King Richards proclamation, This is her haunt, here stand I Sentincll, Kéepe you vnséene, and aide mee when I call. Now must I vnder colour of playing at bowles, help till relieue my gude maistres, maistres Shoare. Come, Ieffrey, wee will play fiue vp for this bottle of Ale, and yonder gude pure woman shall keepe the stakes, and this cheese shall be the measter. Here is a villaine, that wil not relieue her, But yet héele loose he bowles, that way to helpe her, Apprehend him fellowes when I bid ye: Although his mate be gone, he shal pay for it. Take him, and let the Beadles whip him well. Heare ye sir, shall they be whipt and hangd that gfu to the pure, then they shall bee damne that take fro the pure. Oh yonder sits the swéet forsaken soule, To whom for euer I stand déeply bound: She sau'de my life, then Aire helpe to saue hers. Whither go ye sir? You come to giue this strumpet some reliefe.