Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1591 [1590-1591] (Annals) history · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men T10 England and France: war, embassy and pea typicality 0.81 · 507 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T10: france, french, england, king, lord, english, edward, talbot, peace, lords.
It likes us well young Princes: close your hands And your lips too, for I am well assured, That I did so when I was first assured. Now Citizens of Angires open your gates, Let in that amity which you have made, For at Saint Mary's Chapel presently, The rights of marriage shallbe solemnized. Is not the Lady Constance in this troop: I know she is not for this match made up, Her presence would have interrupted much. Where is she and her son, tell me, who knows? She is sad and passionate at your highness Tent. And by my faith, this league that we have made Will give her sadness very little cure: Brother of England, how may we content This widow Lady? In her right we came, Which we God knows, have turned another way, To our own vantage. We will heal up all, For we'll create young Arthur Duke of Britain And Earl of Richmond; and this rich fair Town We make him Lord of. Call the Lady Constance, Some speedy Messenger bid her repair To our solemnity: I trust we shall, (If not fill up the measure of her will) Yet in some measure satisfy her so, That we shall stop her exclamation, Go we as well as haste will suffer us, To this unlooked for unprepared pomp. Mad world, mad kings, mad composition: Iohn to stop Arthur's Title in the whole, Hath willingly departed with a part, And France, whose armour Conscience buckled on, Whom zeal and charity brought to the field, As Gods own soldier, rounded in the ear, With that same purpose-changer, that sly devil, That Broker, that still breaks the pate of faith, That daily breake-vow, he that wins of all, Of kings, of beggars, old men, young men, maids, Who having no external thing to lose, But the word Maid, cheats the poor Maid of that. That smooth-faced Gentleman, tickling commodity. Commodity, the bias of the world, The world, who of itself is poised well. Made to run even, upon even ground: Till this advantage, this vile drawing bias, This sway of motion, this commodity, Makes it take head from all indifferency, From all direction, purpose, course, intent. And this same bias, this Commodity, This Bawd, this Broker, this all-changing-word, Clapped on the outward eye of fickle France, Hath drawn him from his own determined aid, From a resolved and honourable war, To a most base and vile-concluded peace. And why rail I on this Commodity? But for because he hath not wooed me yet: Not that I have the power to clutch my hand, When his fair Angels would salute my palm, But for my hand, as unattempted yet, Like a poor beggar, raileth on the rich. Well, whiles I am a beggar, I will rail, And say there is no sin but to be rich: And being rich, my virtue then shall be, To say there is no vice, but beggary: Since Kings break faith upon commodity, Gain be my Lord, for I will worship thee.
seed 43: T8 · seed 44: T8 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
It likes vs well young Princes: cloſe your hands And your lippes too, for I am well aſſur'd, That I did ſo when I was firſt aſſur'd. Now Cittizens of Angires ope your gates, Let in that amitie which you haue made, For at Saint Maries Chappell preſently, The rights of marriage ſhallbe ſolemniz'd. Is not the Ladie Conſtance in this troope▪ I know ſhe is not for this match made vp, Her preſence would haue interrupted much. Where is ſhe and her ſonne, tell me, who knowes? She is ſad and paſsionate at your highnes Tent. And by my faith, this league that we haue made Will giue her ſadneſſe very little cure: Brother of England, how may we content This widdow Lady? In her right we came, Which we God knowes, haue turnd another way, To our owne vantage. We will heale vp all, For wee'l create yong Arthur Duke of Britaine And Earle of Richmond; and this rich faire Towne We make him Lord of. Call the Lady Conſtance, Some ſpeedy Meſſenger bid her repaire To our ſolemnity: I truſt we ſhall, (If not fill vp the meaſure of her will) Yet in ſome meaſure ſatisfie her ſo, That we ſhall ſtop her exclamation, Go we as well as haſt will ſuffer vs, To this vnlook'd for vnprepared pompe. Mad world, mad kings, mad compoſition: Iohn to ſtop Arthurs Title in the whole, Hath willingly departed with a part, And France, whoſe armour Conſcience buckled on, Whom zeale and charitie brought to the field, As Gods owne ſouldier, rounded in the eare, With that ſame purpoſe-changer, that ſlye diuel, That Broker, that ſtill breakes the pate of faith, That dayly breake-vow, he that winnes of all, Of kings, of beggers, old men, yong men, maids, Who hauing no externall thing to looſe, But the word Maid, cheats the poore Maide of that. That ſmooth-fac'd Gentleman, tickling commoditie. Commoditie, the byas of the world, The world, who of it ſelfe is peyſed well. Made to run euen, vpon euen ground: Till this aduantage, this vile drawing byas, This ſway of motion, this commoditie, Makes it take head from all indifferency, From all direction, purpoſe, courſe, intent. And this ſame byas, this Commoditie, This Bawd, this Broker, this all-changing-word, Clap'd on the outward eye of fickle France, Hath drawne him from his owne determin'd ayd, From a reſolu'd and honourable warre, To a moſt baſe and vile-concluded peace. And why rayle I on this Commoditie? But for becauſe he hath not wooed me yet: Not that I haue the power to clutch my hand, When his faire Angels would ſalute my palme, But for my hand, as vnattempted yet, Like a poore begger, raileth on the rich. Well, whiles I am a begger, I will raile, And ſay there is no ſin but to be rich: And being rich, my vertue then ſhall be, To ſay there is no vice, but beggerie: Since Kings breake faith vpon commoditie, Gaine be my Lord, for I will worſhip thee.