Shakespeare, William · published 1600 · first performed or written 1597 [c.1597-1598] (Annals) history · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men T18 Rebels, barons and the king's wars at ho typicality 0.74 · 524 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T18: king, lord, wallace, earl, edward, england, scotland, rebels, bruce, english.
OPen your ears; for which of you will stop The vent of hearing, when loud Rumour speaks? I from the Orient to the drooping West, (Making the wind my post-horse) still unfold The acts commenced on this ball of earth, Upon my tongues continual slanders ride, The which in every language I pronounce, Stuffing the ears of men with false reports, I speak of peace while covert enmity, under the smile of safety, wounds the world: And who but Rumour, who but only I, Make fearful musters, and prepared defence, Whiles the big year, swollen with some other grief, Is thought with child by the stern tyrant War? And no such matter Rumour is a pipe, Blown by surmizes, jeolousies conjectures, And of so easy, and so plain a stop, That the blunt monster, with uncounted heads, The still discordant wavering multitude, Can play upon it. But what need I thus (My well known body) to anothomize Among my household? why is Rumour here? I run before King Harry's victory, Who in a bloody field by Shrewsbury, Hath beaten down young Hotspur and his troops▪ Quenching the flame of bold rebellion, Even with the rebels blood. Put what mean I To speak so true at first▪ my office is To noise abroad, that Harry Monmouth fell Under the wrath of noble Hotspurs sword, And that the King before the Douglas rage, Stoop his anointed head as low as death. This have I rumoured through the peasant towns, Between that royal field of Shrewsbury, And this worm-eaten hole of ragged stone, When Hotspurs father old Northumberland Lies crafty sick, the posts come trying on, And not a man of them brings other news, Than they have learned of me, from rumours tongues, They bring smooth comforts false, worse than true wrongs. Who keeps the gate here ho? where is the Earl? What shall I say you are? Tell thou the Earl, That the Lord Bardolfe doth attend him here. His Lordship is walked forth into the orchard, Please it your honour knock but at the gate, And he himself will answer. Here comes the Earl. What news Lord Bardolfe? every minute now Should be the father of some Stratagem, The times are wild, contention like a horse, Full of high feeding, madly hath broke loof, And bears down all before him. Noble Earl, I bring you certain news from Shrewsbury. Good, and God will. As good as heart can wish: The King is almost wounded to the death, And in the fortune of my Lord your son, Prince Harry slain outright, and both the Blunts Killed by the hand of Dowglas, young prince Iohn, And Westmoreland and Stafford fled the field, And Harry Monmouthes brawn the hulk sir Iohn, Is prisoner to your son: O such a day! So fought, so followed, and so fairly won, Came not till now to dignify the times Since Caesar's fortunes. How is this derived? Saw you the field? came you from Shrewsbury? I spoke with one, my lord, that came from thence, A gentleman well bred, and of good name, That freely rendered me these news for true.
seed 43: T22 · seed 44: T13 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
OPen your eares; for which of you wi'l stop The vent of hearing, when lowd Rumor speaks? I from the Orient to the drooping West, (Making the wind my poste-horse) still vnfold The acts commenced on this ball of earth, Vpon my tongues continuall slanders ride, The which in euery language I pronounce, Stuffing the eares of men with false reports, I speake of peace while couert enmity, nder the smile of safety, woundes the world: And who but Rumor, who but onely I, Make fearefull musters, and prepar'd defence, Whiles the bigge yeare, swolne with some other griefe, Is thought with child by the sterne tyrant Warre? And no such matter Rumour is a pipe, Blowne by surmizes, Ieolousies coniectures, And of so easie, and so plaine a stop, That the blunt monster, with vncounted heads, The still discordant wau'ring multitude, Can play vpon it. But what need I thus (My wel knowne body) to anothomize Among my houshold? why is Rumor here? I runne before King Harries victorie, Who in a bloudy field by Shrewsbury, Hath beaten downe yong Hot-spurre and his troopes▪ Quenching the flame of bold rebellion, Euen with the rebels bloud. Put what meane I To speake so true at first▪ my office is To noyse abroad, that Harry Monmouth fell Vnder the wrath of noble Hot-spurs sword, And that the King before the Douglas rage, Stoop his annointed head as low as death. This haue I rumour'd through the peasant townes, Betweene that royall field of Shrewsbury, And this worme-eaten hole of ragged stone, When Hot-spurs father old Northumberland Lies crafty sicke, the postes come trying on, And not a man of them brings other newes, Than they haue learnt of me, from Rumors tongues, They bring smooth comforts false, worse then true wrongs. Who keepes the gate here ho? where is the Earle? What shall I say you are? Tell thou the Earle, That the Lord Bardolfe doth attend him heere. His Lordship is walkt forth into the orchard, Please it your honor knocke but at the gate, And he himselfe will answer. Here comes the Earle. What newes Lord Bardolfe? euery minute now Should be the father of some Stratagem, The times are wild, contention like a horse, Full of high feeding, madly hath broke loofe, And beares downe all before him. Noble Earle, I bring you certaine newes from Shrewsbury. Good, and God will. As good as heart can wish: The King is almost wounded to the death, And in the fortune of my Lord your sonne, Prince Harry slaine outright, and both the Blunts Kild by the hand of Dowglas, yong prince Iohn, And Westmerland and Stafford fled the field, And Harry Monmouthes brawne the hulke sir Iohn, Is prisoner to your sonne: O such a day! So fought, so followed, and so fairely wonne, Came not till now to dignifie the times Since Caesars fortunes. How is this deriu'd? Saw you the field? came you from Shrewsbury? I spake with one, my lord, that came from thence, A gentleman well bred, and of good name, That freely rendred me these newes for true.