Shakespeare, William · published 1600 · first performed or written 1599 (Annals) history · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men unassigned nearest T25 Kings, power and law: political sententi · 512 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T25: feare, kings, power, princes, lawes, loue, state, downe, honor, men.
Why so you may say, if a man send his servant As Factor into another Country, And he by any means miscarry, You may say the business of the master, Was the author of his servants misfortune. Or if a son be employed by his father, And he fall into any lewd action, you may say the father Was the author of his sons damnation. But the master is not to answer for his servants, The father for his son, nor the king for his subjects: For they purpose not their deaths, when they crave their services: Some there are that have the gift of premeditated Murder on them: Others the broken seal of Forgery, in beguiling maidens. Now if these outstrip the law, Yet they cannot escape God's punishment. War is God's Beadel. War is God's vengeance: Every man's service is the kings: But every man's soul is his own. Therefore I would have every soldier examine himself, And wash every moth out of his conscience: That in so doing, he may be the readier for death: Or not dying, why the time was well spent, Wherein such preparation was made. I'faith he says true: Every man's fault on his own head, I would not have the king answer for me. Yet I intent to fight lustily for him. Well, I heard the king, he would not be ransomed. I he said so, to make vs fight: But when our throats be cut, he may be ransomed, And we never the wiser, If I live to see that, I'll never trust his word again. Mass you'll pay him then, 'tis a great displeasure That an elder gun, can do against a cannon, Or a subject against a monarch. You'll near take his word again, your a nasse go. Your reproof is somewhat too bitter: Were it not at this time I could be angry. Why let it be a quartel if thou wilt. How shall I know thee? Here is my glove, which if ever I see in thy hat, I'll challenge thee, and strike thee. Here is likewise another of mine, And assure thee i'll wear it. Thou darest as well be hanged. Be friends you fools, We have French quarrels enough in hand: We have no need of English broils. 'tis no treason to cut French crowns, For to morrow the king himself will be a clipper. O God of battles steel my soldiers hearts, Take from them now the sense of rekconing, That the opposed multitudes which stand before them, May not appall their courage. O not to day, not to day o God, Think on the fault my father made, In compassing the crown. I Richard's body have interred new, And on it hath bestowed more contrite tears, Then from it issued forced drops of blood: A hundred men have I in yearly pay, Which every day their withered hands hold up To heaven to pardon blood, And I have built two chanceries, more will I do: though all that I can do, is all too little.
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)
Why so you may say, if a man send his seruant As Factor into another Countrey, And he by any meanes miscarry, You may say the businesse of the maister, Was the author of his seruants misfortune. Or if a sonne be imployd by his father, And he fall into any leaud action, you may say the father Was the author of his sonnes damnation. But the master is not to answere for his seruants, The father for his sonne, nor the king for his subiects: For they purpose not their deaths, whē they craue their seruices: Some there are that haue the gift of premeditated Murder on them: Others the broken seale of Forgery, in beguiling maydens. Now if these outstrip the lawe, Yet they cannot escape Gods punishment. War is Gods Beadel. War is Gods vengeance: Euery mans seruice is the kings: But euery mans soule is his owne. Therfore I would haue euery souldier examine himselfe, And wash euery moath out of his conscience: That in so doing, he may be the readier for death: Or not dying, why the time was well spent, Wherein such preparation was made. Yfaith he saies true: Euery mans fault on his owne head, I would not haue the king answere for me. Yet I intend to fight lustily for him. Well, I heard the king, he wold not be ransomde. I he said so, to make v fight: But when our throates be cut, he may be ransomde, And we neuer the wiser, If I liue to see that, Ile neuer trust his word againe. Mas youle pay him then, tis a great displeasure That an elder gun, can do against a cannon, Or a subiect against a monarke. Youle nere take his word again, your a nasse goe. Your reproofe is somewhat too bitter: Were it not at this time I could be angry. Why let it be a quartell if thou wilt. How shall I know thee? Here is my gloue, which if euer I see in thy hat, Ile challenge thee, and strike thee. Here is likewise another of mine, And assure thee ile weare it. Thou dar'st as well be hangd. Be friends you fooles, We haue French quarrels anow in hand: We haue no need of English broyles. Tis no treason to cut French crownes, For to morrow the king himselfe wil be a clipper. O God of battels steele my souldiers harts, Take from them now the sence of rekconing, That the apposed multitudes which stand before them, May not appall their courage. O not to day, not to day ô God, Thinke on the fault my father made, In compassing the crowne. I Richards bodie haue interred new, And on it hath bestowd more contrite teares, Then from it issued forced drops of blood: A hundred men haue I in yearly pay, Which euery day their withered hands hold vp To heauen to pardon blood, And I haue built two chanceries, more wil I do: Tho all that I can do, is all too litle.