The Famous History of Sir Thomas Wyatt · chunk 3 of 22
Heywood, Thomas / Dekker, Thomas / Chettle, Henry / Webster, John · published 1607 · first performed or written 1602 (Annals) history · Worcester's Men unassigned nearest T43 York and Lancaster: dynastic claims and · 482 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T43: henry, king, richard, warwick, york, edward, father, duke, crown, son.
Thus like a Nun, not like a Princess borne, Descended from the Royal Henry's loins: Live I environed in a house of stone, My Brother Edward lives in pomp and state, I in a mansion here all ruinate. Their rich attire, delicious banqueting: Their several pleasures: all their pride and honour, I have forsaken for a rich prayer Book. The Golden Mines of wealthy India, Is all as dross compared to thy sweetness. Thou art the joy, and comfort of the poor, The everlasting bliss in thee we find. This little volume enclosed in this hand, Is richer than the Empire of this land. Pardon me Madam, that so boldly I press into your Chamber. I salute your Highness with the high style of Queen. Queen! may it be? Or jest you at my lowering misery. Your Brother King is dead, And you the catholic Queen must now succeed. I see my God, at length hath heard my prayer. You Sir Harry, for your glad tidings, Shall be held in honour and due regard. Health to the Lady Mary. And why not Queen, Sir Thomas? Ask that of Suffolk duke, & great Northumberland Who in your steed hath Crowned another. another Queen, Sir Thomas we alive, The true immediate heirs of our dread Father? Nothing more true than that: Nothing more true than you are the true heir, Come leave this Cloister and be seen abroad, Your very sight will stir the people's heats, and make them cheerly, for Queen Mary's cry. One comfort I can tell you: the tenants of the Dukes Northumberland and Suffolk denied their aid, In these unlawful arms: to all the Counsel I denied my hand, and for King Henry's Issue still will stand. Your Counsel, good sir Thomas, is so pithy That I am won so like it. Come let us straight from hence, From Framingham: Cheer your spirits. I'll to the Dukes at Cambridge, and discharge them all: Prosper me God in these affairs, I loved the Father well, I loved the Son, And for the Daughter I through death will run. where's Captain Bret? Here my Lord. Are all our numbers full? They are my Lord. See them arraigned, I will set forward straight. Honourable friends, and native peers, That have chosen me to be the leader of these martial troops, to march against the sister Of our late dead Sovereign. Bear witness of my much unwillingness, In furthering these attempts, I rather joy to think upon our ancient victories Against the French and Spaniard, Whose high pride we levelled with the waves of british shore Dying the haven of Brit: with guilty blood, Till all the Harbour seemed a sanguine pool: Or we desire these arms, we are now to war 'gainst the perfidious northern enemy, Who trembling at our first shock voice and sight, Like cowards turned their backs with shameful flight
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)
Thus like a Nun, not like a Princesse borne, Descended from the Royall Henries loynes: Liue I inuirond in a house of stone, My Brother Edward liues in pompe and state, I in a mansion here all ruinate. Their rich attire, delicious banquetting: Their seuerall pleasures: all their pride and honour, I haue forsaken for a rich prayer Booke. The Golden Mines of wealthy India, Is all as drosse compared to thy sweetnesse. Thou art the ioy, and comfort of the poore, The euerlasting blisse in thee we finde. This little volume inclosed in this hand, Is richer then the Empire of this land. Pardon me Madam, that so boldly I presse into your Chamber. I salute your Highnesse with the high stile of Queene. Queene! may it be? Or iest you at my lowring miserie. Your Brother King is dead, And you the catholicke Queene must now succede. I see my God, at length hath heard my prayer. You Sir Harry, for your glad tydings, Shall be held in honour and due regard. Health to the Lady Mary. And why not Queene, Sir Thomas? Aske that of Suffolke duke, & great Northumberland Who in your steede hath Crown'd another. another Queene, Sir Thomas wee aliue, The true immediate heires of our dread Father? Nothing more true then that: Nothing more true then you are the true heire, Come leaue this Cloyster and be seene abroad, Your verie sight will stirre the peoples heatts, and make them cheerely, for Queene Maries crie. One comfort I can tell you: the tenants of the Dukes Northumberland and Suffolke denide their ayde, In these vnlawfull armes: to all the Counsell I denide my hand, and for King Henries Issue still will stand. Your Counsel, good sir Thomas, is so pithy That I am woon so like it. Come let vs streight from hence, From Framingham: Cheere your spirits. Ile to the Dukes at Cambridge, and discharge them all: Prosper me God in these affaires, I lou'd the Father wel, I lou'd the Sonne, And for the Daughter I through death will run. wher's Captaine Bret? Heere my Lord. Are all our numbers full? They are my Lord. See them arain'd, I will set forward steright. Honorable friends, and natiue peeres, That haue chosen me to be the leader of these martiall troopes, to march against the sister Of our late dead Soueraigne. Beare witnesse of my much vnwillingnesse, In furthering these attemps, I rather ioy to thinke vpon our ancient victories Against the French and Spaniard, Whose high pride we seueld with the waues of brittish shore Dying the hauen of Brit, with guiltie blood, Tll all the Harbor seem'd a sanguine poole: Or we desire these armes, we are now to warre Gainst the perfidious northern enemie, Who trembling at our first shocke voice and sight, Like cowards turn'd their backes with shmefull flight