Wilson, Robert / Drayton, Michael / Munday, Anthony / Hathaway, Richard · published 1600 · first performed or written 1599 [Oct 16, payment] (Annals) history · Admiral's (Nottingham's) Men unassigned nearest T41 Household service: masters, doors and po · 517 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T41: master, house, door, iohn, old, mistress, basket, lord, gentleman, ick.
I will withdraw into some other room, So that your Lordship, and the rest be pleased. With all our hearts: attend the Lady there. Wife, I have eyed yond prisoners all this while, And my conceit doth tell me, 'tis our friend, The noble Cobham, and his virtuous Lady. I think no less, are they suspected trow ye For doing of this murder? What it means, I cannot tell, but we shall know anon, Mean space as you pass by them, ask the question, But do it secretly, you be not seen, And make some sign that I may know your mind. My Lord Cobham, madam? No Cobhan now, nor madam as you love us, But Iohn of Lancashire, and Joan his wife. Oh tell, what is it that our love can do, To pleasure you, for we are bound to you. Nothing but this, that you conceal our names, So gentle lady pass for being spied. My heart I leave, to bear part of your grief. Call the prisoners to the bar: sir Richard Lee, What evidence can you bring against these people, To prove them guilty of the murder done? This bloody towel, and these naked knives, Beside we found them sitting by the place, Where the dead body lay within a bush. What answer you why law should not proceed, According to this evidence given in, To tax ye with the penalty of death? That we are free from murders very thought, And know not how the gentleman was slain. How came this linen cloth so boudy then? My husband hot with traveling my lord, His nose gushed out a bleeding, that was it. But wherefore were your sharp edged knives unsheathed? To cut such simple victual as we had. Say we admit this answer to those articles, What made ye in so private a dark nook, So far remote from any common path, As was the thick where the dead corpses was thrown? journeying my lord from London from the term, Down into Lancashire where we do dwell, And what with age and travel being faint, We gladly sought a place where we might rest, Free from resort of other passengers, And so we strayed into that secret corner. These are but ambages to drive of time, And linger justice from her purposed end. But who are these? Stay judgement, and release those innocents, For here is he, whose hand hath done the deed, For which they stand indicted at the bar, This savage villain, this rude Irish slave, His tongue already hath confessed the fact, And here is witness to confirm as much. Yes my good Lords, no sooner had he slain His loving master for the wealth he had, But I upon the instant met with him, And what he purchased with the loss of blood, With strokes I presently bereaved him of, Some of the which is spent, the rest remaining, I willingly surrender to the hands Of old sir Richard Lee, as being his, Beside my Lord judge, I greet your honour, With letters from my Lord of Winchester.
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)
I will withdraw into some other roome, So that your Lordship, and the rest be pleasde. With all our hearts: attend the Lady there. Wife, I haue eyde yond prisoners all this while, And my conceit doth tel me, tis our friend, The noble Cobham, and his vertuous Lady. I thinke no lesse, are they suspected trow ye For doing of this murder? What it meanes, I cannot tell, but we shall know anon, Meane space as you passe by them, ask the question, But do it secretly, you be not seene, And make some signe that I may know your mind. My Lord Cobham, madam? No Cobhā now, nor madam as you loue vs, But Iohn of Lancashire, and Ione his wife. Oh tel, what is it that our loue can do, To pleasure you, for we are bound to you. Nothing but this, that you conceale our names, So gentle lady passe for being spied. My heart I leaue, to beare part of your griefe. Call the prisoners to the barre: sir Richard Lee, What euidence can you bring against these people, To proue them guiltie of the murder done? This bloudy towell, and these naked kniues, Beside we found them sitting by the place, Where the dead body lay within a bush. VVhat answer you why law should not proceed, According to this euidence giuen in, To taxe ye with the penalty of death? That we are free from murders very thought, And know not how the gentleman was slaine. How came this linnen cloth so boudy then? My husband hot with trauelling my lord, His nose gusht out a bleeding, that was it. But wherefore were your sharpe edgde kniues vnsheathde? To cut such simple victuall as we had. Say we admit this answer to those articles, VVhat made ye in so priuate a darke nooke, So far remote from any common path, As was the thicke where the dead corpes was throwne? Iournying my lord from London from the terme, Downe into Lancashire where we do dwell, And what with age and trauell being faint, VVe gladly sought a place where we might rest, Free from resort of other passengers, And so we strayed into that secret corner. These are but ambages to driue of time, And linger Iustice from her purposde end. But who are these? Stay Iudgement, and release those innocents, For here is hee, whose hand hath done the deed, For which they stand indited at the barre, This sauage villaine, this rude Irish slaue, His tongue already hath confest the fact, And here is witnes to confirme as much. Yes my good Lords, no sooner had he slaine His louing master for dthe wealth he had, But I vpon the instant met with him, And what he purchacde with the losse of bloud, With strokes I presently bereau'de him of, Some of the which is spent, the rest remaining, I willingly surrender to the hands Of old sir Richard Lee, as being his, Beside my Lord Iudge, I greet your honor, With letters from my Lord of Winchester.