Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · 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 · 476 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T53: crown, king, state, life, lord, lords, live, queen, tullia, prince.
No, no (my Lord) note this: the King is weary Of dainty and such picking Grievances: For he hath found, to end one doubt by Death, Revives two greater in the Heirs of Life. And therefore will he wipe his Tables clean, And keep no Tell-tale to his Memory, That may repeat, and History his loss, To new remembrance. For full well he knows, He cannot so precisely weed this Land, As his mis-doubts present occasion: His foes are so en-rooted with his friends, That plucking to unfixe an Enemy, He doth unfasten so, and shake a friend. So that this Land, like an offensive wife, That hath enraged him on, to offer strokes, As he is striking, holds his Infant up, And hangs resolved Correction in the Arm, That was upreared to execution. Besides, the King hath wasted all his Rods, On late Offenders, that he now doth lack The very Instruments of Chastisement: So that his power, like to a Fanglesse Lion May offer, but not hold. 'Tis very true: And therefore be assured (my good Lord Marshal) If we do now make our atonement well, Our Peace, will (like a broken Limb united) Grow stronger, for the breaking. Be it so: here is returned my Lord of Westmoreland. The Prince is here at hand: pleaseth your Lordship To meet his Grace, just distance between our Armies? Your Grace of York, in heaven's name then forward. Before, and greet his Grace (my Lord) we come. You are well encountered here (my cousin Mowbray) Good day to you, gentle Lord Archbishop, And so to you Lord Hastings, and to all. My Lord of York, it better showed with you, When that your Flock (assembled by the Bell) Encircled you, to hear with reverence Your exposition on the holy Text, Then now to see you here an Iron man Cheering a rout of Rebels with your Drum, Turning the Word, to Sword; and Life to death: That man that sits within a Monarch's heart, And ripens in the Sunshine of his favour, Would he abuse the Countenance of the King, Alack, what Mischiefs might he set abroach, In shadow of such Greatness? With you, Lord Bishop, It is even so. Who hath not heard it spoken. How deep you were within the Books of Heaven? To us, the Speaker in his Parliament; To us, th' imagine Voice of Heaven itself: The very Opener, and Intelligencer, Between the Grace, the Sanctities of Heaven, And our dull workings. O, who shall believe, But you mis-use the reverence of your Place, Employ the Countenance, and Grace of Heaven, As a false Favourite doth his Prince's Name, In deeds dishonourable? You have taken up, Under the counterfeited Zeal of Heaven, The Subjects of Heaven's Substitute, my Father, And both against the Peace of Heaven, and him, Have here vp-swarmed them.
seed 43: T57 · seed 44: T6 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
No, no (my Lord) note this: the King is wearie Of daintie and ſuch picking Grieuances: For hee hath found, to end one doubt by Death, Reuiues two greater in the Heires of Life. And therefore will hee wipe his Tables cleane, And keepe no Tell-tale to his Memorie, That may repeat, and Hiſtorie his loſſe, To new remembrance. For full well hee knowes, Hee cannot ſo preciſely weede this Land, As his miſ-doubts preſent occaſion: His foes are ſo en-rooted with his friends, That plucking to vnfixe an Enemie, Hee doth vnfaſten ſo, and ſhake a friend. So that this Land, like an offenſiue wife, That hath enrag'd him on, to offer ſtrokes, As he is ſtriking, holds his Infant vp, And hangs reſolu'd Correction in the Arme, That was vprear'd to execution. Beſides, the King hath waſted all his Rods, On late Offenders, that he now doth lacke The very Inſtruments of Chaſticement: So that his power, like to a Fangleſſe Lion May offer, but not hold. 'Tis very true: And therefore be aſſur'd (my good Lord Marſhal) If we do now make our attonement well, Our Peace, will (like a broken Limbe vnited) Grow ſtronger, for the breaking. Be it ſo: Heere is return'd my Lord of Weſtmerland. The Prince is here at hand: pleaſeth your Lordſhip To meet his Grace, iuſt diſtance 'tweene our Armies? Your Grace of Yorke, in heauen's name then forward. Before, and greet his Grace (my Lord) we come. You are wel encountred here (my coſin Mowbray) Good day to you, gentle Lord Archbiſhop, And ſo to you Lord Haſtings, and to all. My Lord of Yorke, it better ſhew'd with you, When that your Flocke (aſſembled by the Bell) Encircled you, to heare with reuerence Your expoſition on the holy Text, Then now to ſee you heere an Iron man Chearing a rowt of Rebels with your Drumme, Turning the Word, to Sword; and Life to death: That man that ſits within a Monarches heart, And ripens in the Sunne-ſhine of his fauor, Would hee abuſe the Countenance of the King, Alack, what Miſchiefes might hee ſet abroach, In ſhadow of ſuch Greatneſſe? With you, Lord Biſhop, It is euen ſo. Who hath not heard it ſpoken. How deepe you were within the Bookes of Heauen? To vs, the Speaker in his Parliament; To vs, th' imagine Voyce of Heauen it ſelfe: The very Opener, and Intelligencer, Betweene the Grace, the Sanctities of Heauen, And our dull workings. O, who ſhall beleeue, But you miſ-vſe the reuerence of your Place, Employ the Countenance, and Grace of Heauen, As a falſe Fauorite doth his Princes Name, In deedes diſ-honorable? You haue taken vp, Vnder the counterfeited Zeale of Heauen, The Subiects of Heauens Subſtitute, my Father, And both againſt the Peace of Heauen, and him, Haue here vp-ſwarmed them.