Shakespeare, William · published 1600 · first performed or written 1597 [c.1597-1598] (Annals) history · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men unassigned nearest T53 The crown: kingship claimed, resigned an · 520 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T53: crown, king, state, life, lord, lords, live, queen, tullia, prince.
Not so much noise my Lords, sweet prince, speak low, the King your father is disposed to sleep. Let us withdraw into the other room. Wilt please your Grace to go along with us? No, I will sit and watch here by the King. Why doth the Crown he there upon his pillow, Being so troublesome a bedfellow? O polished perturbation! golden care! That keep'st the ports of Slumber open wide To many a watchful night, sleep with it now! Yet not so sound, and half so deeply sweet, As he whose brow (with homely biggen bound) Snores out the watch of night. O majesty! When thou dost pinch thy bearer, thou dost sit Like a rich armour worn in heat of day, That scaldst with safety (by his gates of breath) There lies a dowlny feather which stirs not, Did he suspire, that light and weightless dowlne Perforce must move my gracious lord my father: This sleep is sound indeed, this is a sleep, That from this golden Rigoll hath divorced So many English Kings, thy dew from me, Is tears and heavy sorrows of the blood, Which nature, love, and filial tenderness Shall (O dear father) pay thee plenteously: My due from thee is this imperial Crown, Which as immediate from thy place and blood, Derives itself to me: lo where it sits, Which God shall guard, and put the world's whole strength Into one giant arm, it shall not force, This lineal honour from me, this from thee Will I to mine leave, as 'tis left to me. Warwick, Gloucester, Clarence. Doth the King call? What would your Majesty? Why did you leave me here alone, my lords? We left the prince my brother here my liege, who undertook to sit and watch by you. The prince of Wales, where is he? let me see him: he is not here. This door is open, he is gone this way. He came not through the chamber where we staid. Where is the Crown? who took it from my pillow? When we withdrew, my liege, we left it here. The Prince hath ta'en it hence go seek him out: Is he so hasty, that he doth suppose my sleep my death? Find him, my lord of Warwick, chide him hither. This part of his conjoines with my disease, And helps to end me: see, sons, what things you are, How quickly nature falls into revolt, When gold becomes her object? For this, the foolish over-careful fathers Have broke their sleep with thoughts, Their brains with care, their bones with industry: For this they have engrossed and piled up, The cankered heaps of strange atcheeved gold: For this they have been thoughtful to invest Their sons with arts and martial exercises, When like the be tolling from every flower, Our thigh, packed with wax our mouths with honey, We bring it to the hive: and like the bees, Are murdered for our pains, this bitter taste Yields his engrossements to the ending father, Now where is he that will not stay so long, Till his friend sickness hands determined 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)
Not so much noyse my Lords, sweete prince, speake lowe, the King your father is disposde to sleepe. Let vs withdraw into the other roome. Wilt please your Grace to go along with vs? No, I wil sit and watch heere by the King. Why doth the Crowne he there vpon his pillow, Being so troublesome a bedfellow? O polisht perturbation! golden care! That keepst the ports of Slumber open wide To many a watchfull night, sleepe with it now! Yet not so sound, and halfe so deeply sweete, As he whose brow (with homely biggen bound) Snores out the watch of night. O maiestie! When thou dost pinch thy bearer, thou dost sit Like a rich armour worne in heate of day, That scaldst with safty (by his gates of breath) There lies a dowlny feather which stirs not, Did he suspire, that light and weightlesse dowlne Perforce must moue my gracious lord my father: This sleepe is sound indeede, this is a sleepe, That from this golden Rigoll hath diuorst So many English Kings, thy deaw from me, Is teares and heauy sorowes of the blood, Which nature, loue, and filiall tendernesse Shall (O deare father) pay thee plenteously: My due from thee is this imperiall Crowne, Which as immediate from thy place and blood, Deriues it selfe to me: loe where it sits, Which God shal guard, and put the worlds whole strength Into one giant arme, it shal not force, This lineal honor from me, this from thee Will I to mine leaue, as tis left to me. Warwicke, Gloucester, Clarence. Doth the King cal? What would your Maiestie? Why did you leaue me here alone, my lords? We left the prince my brother here my liege, who vndertooke to sit and watch by you. The prince of Wales, where is he? let me see him: he is not here. This doore is open, he is gone this way. He came not through the chamber where we staide. Where is the Crowne? who took it from my pillow? When we withdrew, my liege, we left it here. The Prince hath tane it hence go seeke him out: Is he so hastie, that he doth suppose my sleepe my death? Finde him, my lord of Warwicke, chide him hither. This part of his conioynes with my disease, And helps to end me: see, sonnes, what things you are, How quickly nature falls into reuolt, When gold becomes her obiect? For this, the foolish ouer-carefull fathers Haue broke their sleepe with thoughts, Their braines with care, their bones with industry: For this they haue ingrossed and pilld vp, The cankred heapes of strange atcheeued gold: For this they haue beene thoughtfull to inuest Their sonnes with arts and martiall exercises, When like the bee toling from euery flower, Our thigh, packt with waxe our mouthes with hony, We bring it to the hiue: and like the bees, Are murdred for our paines, this bitter taste Yeelds his engrossements to the ending father, Now where is he that will not stay so long, Till his friend sicknesse hands determind me.