Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1597 [c.1597-1598] (Annals) history · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men unassigned nearest T43 York and Lancaster: dynastic claims and · 525 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T43: henry, king, richard, warwick, york, edward, father, duke, crown, son.
Health to my Sovereign, and new happiness Added to that, that I am to deliver. Prince Iohn, your Son, doth kiss your Grace's Hand: Mowbray, the Bishop, Scroop, Hastings, and all, Are brought to the Correction of your Law. There is not now a Rebels Sword unsheathed, But Peace puts forth her Olive every where: The manner how this Action hath been borne, Here (at more leisure) may your Highness read, With every course, in his particular. O Westmoreland, thou art a Summer Bird, Which ever in the haunch of Winter sings The lifting up of day. Look, here's more news. From Enemies, Heaven keep your Majesty: And when they stand against you, may they fall, As those that I am come to tell you of. The Earl Northumberland, and the Lord Bardolfe, With a great Power of English, and of Scots, Are by the Sheriff of Yorkshire overthrown: The manner, and true order of the fight, This Packet (please it you) contains at large. And wherefore should these good news Make me sick? Will Fortune never come with both hands full, But writ her fair words still in foulest Letters? She either gives a Stomach, and no Food, (Such are the poor, in health) or else a Feast, And takes away the Stomach (such are the Rich, That have abundance, and enjoy it not.) I should rejoice now, at this happy news, And now my Sight fails, and my Brain is giddy. O me, come near me, now I am much ill. Comfort your Majesty. Oh, my Royal Father. My Sovereign Lord, cheer up yourself, look up. Be patiented (Princes) you do know, these Fits Are with his Highness very ordinary. Stand from him, give him air: he'll strait be well. No, no, he cannot long hold out: these pangs, Th' incessant care, and labour of his Mind, Hath wrought the Mure, that should confine it in, So thin, that Life looks through, and will break out. The people fear me: for they do observe Vnfathered Heirs, and loathly Births of Nature: The Seasons change their manners, as the Year Had found some Months asleep, and leapt them over. The River hath thrice flowed, no ebb between: And the old folk (Times doting Chronicles) Say it did so, a little time before That our great Grandsire Edward sicked, and died. Speak lower (Princes) for the King recovers. This Apoplexy will (certain) be his end. I pray you take me up, and bear me hence Into some other Chamber: softly ' pray. Let there be no noise made (my gentle friends) Unless some dull and favourable hand Will whisper Music to my weary Spirit. Can for the Music in the other Room. Set me the Crown upon my Pillow here. His eye is hollow, and he changes much. Less noise, less noise. Who saw the Duke of Clarence? I am here (Brother) full of heaviness. How now? Rain within doors, and none abroad? How doth the King? Exceeding ill. Herd he the good news yet? Tell it him. He altered much, upon the hearing it. If he be sick with joy, he'll recover without Physic.
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)
Health to my Soueraigne, and new happineſſe Added to that, that I am to deliuer. Prince Iohn, your Sonne, doth kiſſe your Graces Hand: Mowbray, the Biſhop, Scroope, Haſtings, and all, Are brought to the Correction of your Law. There is not now a Rebels Sword vnſheath'd, But Peace puts forth her Oliue euery where: The manner how this Action hath beene borne, Here (at more leyſure) may your Highneſſe reade, With euery courſe, in his particular. O Weſtmerland, thou art a Summer Bird▪ Which euer in the haunch of Winter ſings The lifting vp of day. Looke, heere's more newes. From Enemies, Heauen keepe your Maieſtie: And when they ſtand againſt you, may they fall, As thoſe that I am come to tell you of. The Earle Northumberland, and the Lord Bardolfe, With a great Power of Engliſh, and of Scots, Are by the Sherife of Yorkeſhire ouerthrowne: The manner, and true order of the fight, This Packet (pleaſe it you) containes at large. And wherefore ſhould theſe good newes Make me ſicke? Will Fortune neuer come with both hands full, But write her faire words ſtill in fouleſt Letters? Shee eyther giues a Stomack, and no Foode, (Such are the poore, in health) or elſe a Feaſt, And takes away the Stomack (ſuch are the Rich, That haue aboundance, and enioy it not.) I ſhould reioyce now, at this happy newes, And now my Sight fayles, and my Braine is giddie. O me, come neere me, now I am much ill. Comfort your Maieſtie. Oh, my Royall Father. My Soueraigne Lord, cheare vp your ſelfe, looke vp. Be patient (Princes) you doe know, theſe Fits Are with his Highneſſe very ordinarie▪ Stand from him, giue him ayre: Hee'le ſtraight be well. No, no, hee cannot long hold out: theſe pangs, Th' inceſſant care, and labour of his Minde, Hath wrought the Mure, that ſhould confine it in, So thinne, that Life lookes through, and will breake out. The people feare me: for they doe obſerue Vnfather'd Heires, and loathly Births of Nature: The Seaſons change their manners, as the Yeere Had found ſome Moneths aſleepe, and leap'd them ouer. The Riuer hath thrice flow'd, no ebbe betweene: And the old folke (Times doting Chronicles) Say it did ſo, a little time before That our great Grand-fire Edward ſick'd, and dy'de. Speake lower (Princes) for the King recouers. This Apoplexie will (certaine) be his end. I pray you take me vp, and beare me hence Into ſome other Chamber: ſoftly 'pray. Let there be no noyſe made (my gentle friends) Vnleſſe ſome dull and fauourable hand Will whiſper Muſicke to my wearie Spirit. Ca for the Muſicke in the other Roome. Set me the Crowne vpon my Pillow here. His eye is hollow, and hee changes much. Leſſe noyſe, leſſe noyſe. Who ſaw the Duke of Clarence? I am here (Brother) full of heauineſſe. How now? Raine within doores, and none abroad? How doth the King? Exceeding ill. Heard hee the good newes yet? Tell it him. Hee alter'd much, vpon the hearing it. If hee be ſicke with Ioy, Hee'le recouer without Phyſicke.