Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1591 [1590-1591] (Annals) history · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men T43 York and Lancaster: dynastic claims and typicality 0.80 · 444 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T43: henry, king, richard, warwick, york, edward, father, duke, crown, son.
Sirrah, your brother is Legitimate, Your father's wife did after wedlock bear him: And if she did play false, the fault was hers; Which fault lies on the hazards of all husbands That marry wives: tell me, how if my brother Who as you say, took pains to get this son, Had of your father claimed this son for his, Insooth, good friend, your father might have kept This Calf, bred from his Cow from all the world: Insooth he might: then if he were my brothers, My brother might not claim him, nor your father Being none of his, refuse him: this concludes, My mother's son did get your father's heir, Your father's heir must have your father's land. Shall then my fathers Will be of no force, To dispossess that child which is not his. Of no more force to dispossess me sir, Then was his will to get me, as I think. Whether hadst thou rather be a Faulconbridge, And like thy brother to enjoy thy land: Or the reputed son of Cordelion, Lord of thy presence, and no land beside. Madam, and if my brother had my shape And I had his, sir Roberts his like him, And if my legs were two such riding rods, My arms, such eel skin's stuffed, my face so thin, That in mine ear I durst not stick a rose. Lest men should say, look where three farthings goes, And to his shape were heir to all this land, Would I might never stir from off this place, I would give it every foot to have this face: It would not be sir nobbe in any case. I like thee well: wilt thou forsake thy fortune, Bequeath thy land to him, and follow me? I am a Soldier, and now bound to France. Brother, take you my land, I'll take my chance; Your face hath got five hundred pound a year, Yet sell your face for five pence and 'tis dear: Madam, I'll follow you unto the death. Nay, I would have you go before me thither. Our Country manners give our betters way. What is thy name? Philip my Liege, so is my name begun, Philip, good old Sir Robert's wife's eldest son. From henceforth bear his name Whose for me thou bearest: Kneel thou down Philip, but rise more great, Arise Sir Richard, and Plantagenet. Brother by th' mother's side, give me your hand, My father gave me honour, yours gave land: Now blessed be the hour by night or day When I was got, Sir Robert was away. The very spirit of Plantagenet: I am thy grandam Richard, call me so.
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)
Sirra, your brother is Legittimate, Your fathers wife did after wedlocke beare him: And if ſhe did play falſe, the fault was hers; Which fault lyes on the hazards of all husbands That marry wiues: tell me, how if my brother Who as you ſay, tooke paines to get this ſonne, Had of your father claim'd this ſonne for his, Inſooth, good friend, your father might haue kept This Calfe, bred from his Cow from all the world: Inſooth he might: then if he were my brothers, My brother might not claime him, nor your father Being none of his, refuſe him: this concludes, My mothers ſonne did get your fathers heyre, Your fathers heyre muſt haue your fathers land. Shal then my fathers Will be of no force, To diſpoſſeſſe that childe which is not his. Of no more force to diſpoſſeſſe me ſir, Then was his will to get me, as I think. Whether hadſt thou rather be a Faulconbridge, And like thy brother to enioy thy land: Or the reputed ſonne of Cordelion, Lord of thy preſence, and no land beſide. Madam, and if my brother had my ſhape And I had his, ſir Roberts his like him, And if my legs were two ſuch riding rods, My armes, ſuch eele skins ſtuft, my face ſo thin, That in mine eare I duſt not ſticke a roſe. Leſt men ſhould ſay, looke where three farthings goes, And to his ſhape were heyre to all this land, Would I might neuer ſtirre from off this place, I would giue it euery foot to haue this face: It would not be ſir nobbe in any caſe. I like thee well: wilt thou forſake thy fortune, Bequeath thy land to him, and follow me? I am a Souldier, and now bound to France. Brother, take you my land, Ile take my chance; Your face hath got fiue hundred pound a yere, Yet ſell your face for fiue pence and 'tis deere: Madam, Ile follow you vnto the death. Nay, I would haue you go before me thither. Our Country manners giue our betters way. What i thy name? Philip y Liege, ſo is my name begun, Philip, good old Sir Roberts wiues eldeſt ſonne. From henceforth beare his name Whoſe for me thou beareſt: Kneele thou downe Philip, but riſe more great, Ariſe Sir Richard, and Plantagenet. Brother by th' mothers ſide, giue me your hand, My father gaue me honor, yours gaue land: Now bleſſed be the houre by night or day When I was got, Sir Robert was away. The very ſpirit of Plantaginet: I am thy grandame Richard, call me ſo.