The Death of Robert, Earl of Huntingdon (2 Robin Hood) · chunk 11 of 44
Munday, Anthony / Chettle, Henry · published 1601 · first performed or written 1598 [Feb 20-Mar 8, payment] (Annals) tragedy · Admiral's (Nottingham's) Men T1 Death, grief and revenge typicality 0.80 · 498 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
O ring not such a peal for Robin's death, Let sweet forgiveness be my passing bell. Art thou there Marian? then fly forth my breath: To die with in thy arms contents me well. Keep in, keep in a little while thy soul, Till I have poured my soul forth at thy feet. I slept not uncle, I your grief did hear, Let him forgive your soul that bought it dear: Your Body's deed, I in my death forgive, And humbly beg the king that you may live. Stand to your Clergy uncle, save your life, And lead a better life than you have done. O gentle Nephew, ah my brother's son, Thou dying glory of old Huntington, Wishest thou life to such a murderous foe? I will not live, sith thou must life for go. Oh happy Warman, blessed in thy end, Now too too late thy truth I do commend. O Nephew, Nephew, Doncaster and I Murdered poor Warman, for he did deny To join with us in this black tragedy. Alas poor Warman. friar, little Iohn, I told ye both where Warman's body lay: And of his burial I'll dispose anon. Is there no law, Lord Ely, to convict, This Prior, that confesseth murders thus? He is a hallowed man, and must be tried, Aud punisht by the censure of the Church. The Church therein doth err: God doth allow No Canon to preserve a murderer's life. Richard, king Richard, in thy grandsire's days, A law was made, the Clergy sworn thereto, That whatsoever Churchman did commit Treason, or murder, or false felony, Should like a secular be punished. Treason we did, for sure we did intend King Richard's poisoning, Sovereign of this land. Murder we did in working Warman's end, And my dear Nephews, by this fatal hand. And theft we did, for we have robbed the king, The State, the Nobles, Commons, and his men, Of a true Peer, firm Pillar, liberal Lord. Fitzwater we have robbed of a kind son, And Marian's love-joys we have quite undone. Whoppe, what a coil is here with your confession? I ask but judgement for my foul transgression. Thy own mouth hath condemned thee. Hence with him. Hang this man dead, then see him buried: But let the other hang alive in chains. I thank you sir. myself will go, my Lord, And see sharp justice done upon these slaves. O go not hence Prince Iohn: a word or two Before I die, I fain would say to you. Robin, we see what we are sad to see, Death like a champion treading down thy life: Yet in thy end somewhat to comfort thee, we freely give to thy betrothed wife, Beauteous and chaste Matilda, all those lands, fallen by thy folly, to the prior's hands, And by his fault now forfeited to me: Earl Huntington, she shall thy Countess be, And thy wight yeomen, they shall wend with me, Against the faithless enemies of Christ.
nodes 626–690 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 11 of 44 in this edition
Length
498 words · 674 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T1 — Death, grief and revengecross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.801 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
seed 43: T7 · seed 44: T1 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
O ring not such a peale for Robins death, Let sweete forgiuenesse be my passing bell. Art thou there Marian? then fly forth my breath: To die with in thy armes contents me well. Keepe in, keepe in a little while thy soule, Till I haue powr'd my soule forth at thy feete. I slept not vnkle, I your griefe did heare, Let him forgiue your soule that bought it deare: Your bodies deede, I in my death forgiue, And humbly begge the king that you may liue. Stand to your Cleargie vnkle, saue your life, And lead a better life than you haue done. O gentle Nephew, ah my brothers sonne, Thou dying glory of old Huntington, Wishest thou life to such a murdrous foe? I will not liue, sith thou must life for goe. Oh happie Warman, blessed in thy end, Now too too late thy truth I doe commend. O Nephew, Nephew, Doncaster and I Murdred poore Warman, for he did denie To ioyne with vs in this blacke tragedy. Alas poore Warman. Frier, little Iohn, I told ye both where Warmans bodie lay: And of his buriall Ile dispose anone. Is there no lawe, Lord Ely, to conuict, This Prior, that confesseth murders thus? He is a hallowed man, and must be tried, Aud punisht by the censure of the Church. The Church therein doth erre: God doth allowe No Canon to preserue a murderers life. Richard, king Richard,, in thy Grandsires daies, A law was made, the Cleargie sworne thereto, That whatsoeuer Church-man did commit Treason, or murder, or false felonie, Should like a seculer be punished. Treason we did, for sure we did intend King Richards poisoning, Soueraigne of this land. Murder we did in working Warmans end, And my deare Nephewes, by this fatall hand. And theft we did, for we haue robd the king, The State, the Nobles, Commons, and his men, Of a true Peere, firme Piller, liberall Lord. Fitzwater we haue robd of a kinde sonne, And Marians loue-ioyes we haue quite vndoone. Whoppe, what a coyle is here wt your confession? I aske but iudgement for my foule transgression. Thy own mouth hath condemned thee. Hence with him. Hang this man dead, then see him buried: But let the other hang aliue in chaines. I thanke you sir. My selfe will goe, my Lord, And see sharpe Iustice done vpon these slaues. O goe not hence Prince Iohn: a word or two Before I die, I faine would say to you. Robin, wee see what we are sad to see, Death like a champion treading downe thy life: Yet in thy end somwhat to comfort thee, Wee freely giue to thy betrothed wife, Beautious and chast Matilda, all those lands, Falne by thy folly, to the Priors hands, And by his fault now forfetted to mee: Earle Huntington, she shall thy Countesse bee, And thy wight yeomen, they shall wend with mee, Against the faithlesse enemies of Christ.