The Conspiracy of Charles Duke of Byron · chunk 29 of 33
Chapman, George · published 1608 · first performed or written 1608 [1607-1608] (Annals) history · Children of the Queen's Revels unassigned nearest T53 The crown: kingship claimed, resigned an · 504 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T53: crown, king, state, life, lord, lords, live, queen, tullia, prince.
How can I help it? would you have a King That hath a white beard; have so green a brain? A plague of brain; what doth this touch your brain? You must give me more reason or I swear Swear; what do you swear? I Swear you wrong me, And deal not like a King to jest, and sleight, A man that you should curiously reward; Tell me of your grey beard? it is not grey With care to recompense me, who eased your care. You have been recompensed, from head to foot. With a distrusted dukedom: Take your dukedom Bestowed on me again; It was not given For any love, but fear, and force of shame; Yet 'twas your honour; which if you respect not, Why seek you this Addition? Since this honour, Would show you loved me to, in trusting me, Without which love, and trust; honour is shame; A very Pageant, and a property: Honour, with all his Adjuncts, I deserve, And you quit my deserts, with your grey beard. Since you expostulate the matter so; I tell you plain; Another reason is Why I am moved to make you this denial That I suspect you to have had intelligence With my vowed enemies. Misery of virtue, Ill is made good, with worse? This reason pours Poison, for Balm, into the wound you made; You make me mad, and rob me of my soul, To take away my tried love, and my Truth; Which of my labours, which of all my wounds, Which overthrow, which Battle won for you, Breeds this suspicion? Can the blood of faith, (Lost in all these to find it proof, and strength) Beget disloyalty? all my rain is fallen, Into the horse-fair; springing pools and mire; And not in thankful grounds, or fields of fruit; Fall then before us, O thou flaming Crystal, That art the uncorrupted Register Of all men's merits: And remonstrate here, The fights, the dangers, the affrights and horrors, Whence I have rescued this unthankful King: And show (commixed with them) the joys, the glories Of his state then: Then his kind thoughts of me: Than my deservings: Now my infamy: But I will be mine own King: I will see, That all your Chronicles be filled with me, That none but I, and my renowned Sire Be said to win the memorable fields Of Arques and Deep: and none but we of all Kept you from dying there, in an Hospital; None but myself, that won the day at Dreux: A day of holy name, and needs, no night: Nor none but I at Fountain Francois burst, The heart strings of the leaguers; I alone, Took Amiens in these arms and held her fast, In spite of all the Pitchy fires she cast, And clouds of bullets poured upon my breast, Till she showed yours; and took her natural form, Only myself (married to victory) Did people Artois, Douay, Picardie, Bethune, and Saint Paul, Bapaume, and Courcelles, With her triumphant issue;
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)
How can I helpe it? would you haue a King That hath a white beard; haue so greene a braine? A plague of braine; what doth this touch your braine? You must giue me more reason or I sweare Sweare; what do you sweare? I Sweare you wrong me, And deale not like a King to iest, and sleight, A man that you should curiously reward; Tell me of your gray beard? it is not gray With care to recompence me, who eas'd your care. You haue beene recompenc't, from head to foote. With a distrusted dukedome: Take your dukedome Bestow'd on me againe; It was not giuen For any loue, but feare, and force of shame; Yet twas your honor; which if you respect not, Why seeke you this Adition? Since this honour, Would shew you lou'd me to, in trusting me, Without which loue, and trust; honor is shame; A very Pageant, and a propertie: Honor, with all his Adiucts, I deserue, And you quit my deserts, with your gray beard. Since you expostulate the matter so; I tell you plaine; Another reason is Why I am mou'd to make you this deniall That I suspect you to haue had inelligence With my vowd enimies. Miserie of vertue, Ill is made good, with worse? This reason poures Poyson, for Balme, into the wound you made; You make me madde, and rob me of my soule, To take away my try'd loue, and my Truth; Which of my labors, which of all my woundes, Which ouerthrow, which Battayle wonne for you, Breedes this suspition? Can the blood of faith, (Lost in all these to finde it proofe, and strength) Beget disloyaty? all my raine is falne, Into the horse-fayre; springing pooles and myre; And not in thankfull grounds, or fields of fruite; Fall then before vs, O thou flaming Christall, That art the vncorrupted Register Of all mens merits: And remonstrate heere, The fights, the dangers, the affrights and horrors, Whence I haue rcu'd this vnthankefull King: And shew (commixt with them) the ioyes, the glories Of his state then: Then his kind thoughts of me: Then my deseruings: Now my infamie: But I will be mine owne King: I will see, That all your Chronicles be fild with me, That none but I, and my renowned Syre Be said to winne the memorable fieldes Of Arques and Deepe: and none bt we of all Kept you from dying there, in an Hospitall; None but my selfe, that wonne the day at Dreux: A day of holy name, and needes, no night: Nor none but I at Fountaine Francois burst, The heart strings of the leaguers; I alone, Tooke Amiens in these armes and held her fast, In spight of all the Pitchy fires she cast, And clowds of bullets pourd vpon my brest, Till she showd yours; and tooke her naturall forme, Onely my selfe (married to victory) Did people Artois, Douy, Picardie, Bethune, and Saint Paul, Bapaume, and Courcelles, With her triumphant issue;