Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1591 [1590-1591] (Annals) history · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men unassigned nearest T53 The crown: kingship claimed, resigned an · 481 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T53: crown, king, state, life, lord, lords, live, queen, tullia, prince.
Away, toward Bury, to the Dolphin there. There tell the king, he may inquire us out. Here's a good world: knew you of this fair work? Beyond the infinite and boundless reach of mercy, (If thou didst this deed of death) art thou damned Hubert. Do but hear me sir. Ha'? I'll tell thee what. Thou'rt damned as black, nay nothing is so black, Thou art more deep damned then Prince Lucifer: There is not yet so ugly a fiend of hell As thou shalt be, if thou didst kill this child. Upon my soul. If thou didst but consent To this most cruel Act: do but despair, And if thou want'st a Cord, the smallest thread That ever Spider twisted from her womb Will serve to strangle thee: A rush will be a beam To hang thee on. Or wouldst thou drown thyself, Put but a little water in a spoon, And it shall be as all the Ocean, Enough to stifle such a villain up. I do suspect thee very grievously. If I in act, consent, or sin of thought, Be guilty of the stealing that sweet breath Which was embounded in this beauteous clay, Let hell want pains enough to torture me: I left him well. Go, bear him in thine arms: am amazed me thinks, and lose my way Among the thorns, and dangers of this world. How easy dost thou take all England up, From forth this morsel of dead Royalty? The life, the right, and truth of all this Realm Is fled to heaven: and England now is left To tug and scamble, and to part by th' teeth The vn-owed interest of proud swelling State: Now for the bare-pickt bone of Majesty, Doth dogged war bristle his angry crest, And snarleth in the gentle eyes of peace: Now, Powers from home, and discontents at home Meet in one line: and vast confusion waits As doth a Raven on a sicke-falne beast, The imminent decay of wrested pomp. Now happy he, whose cloak and centre can Hold out this tempest. Bear away that child, And follow me with speed: I'll to the King: A thousand businesses are brief in hand, And heaven itself doth frown upon the Land. Thus have I yielded up into your hand The Circle of my glory. Take again From this my hand, as holding of the Pope Your Sovereign greatness and authority. Now keep your holy word, go meet the French, And from his holiness use all your power To stop their marches 'fore we are inflamed: Our discontented Counties do revolt: Our people quarrel with obedience, Swearing Allegiance, and the love of soul To stranger-bloud, to foreign Royalty; This inundation of mistempred humour, Rests by you only to be qualified. Then pause not: for the present time's so sick, That present medicine must be ministered, Or overthrow incurable ensues.
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)
Away, toward Burie, to the Dolphin there. There tel the king, he may inquire vs out. Here's a good world: knew you of this faire work? Beyond the infinite and boundleſſe reach of mercie, (If thou didſt this deed of death) art yu damn'd Hubert. Do but heare me ſir. Ha? Ile tell thee what. Thou'rt damn'd as blacke, nay nothing is ſo blacke, Thou art more deepe damn'd then Prince Lucifer: There is not yet ſo vgly a fiend of hell As thou ſhalt be, if thou didſt kill this childe. Vpon my ſoule. If thou didſt but conſent To this moſt cruell Act: do but diſpaire, And if thou want'ſt a Cord, the ſmalleſt thred That euer Spider twiſted from her wombe Will ſerue to ſtrangle thee: A ruſh will be a beame To hang thee on. Or wouldſt thou drowne thy ſelfe, Put but a little water in a ſpoone, And it ſhall be as all the Ocean, Enough to ſtifle ſuch a villaine vp. I do ſuſpect thee very greeuouſly. If I in act, conſent, or ſinne of thought, Be guiltie of the ſtealing that ſweete breath Which was embounded in this beauteous clay, Let hell want paines enough to torture me: I left him well. Go, beare him in thine armes: am amaz'd me thinkes, and looſe my way Among the thornes, and dangers of this world▪ How eaſie doſt thou take all England vp, From forth this morcell of dead Royaltie? The life, the right, and truth of all this Realme Is fled to heauen: and England now is left To tug and ſcamble, and to part by th' teeth The vn-owed intereſt of proud ſwelling State: Now for the bare-pickt bone of Maieſty, Doth dogged warre briſtle his angry creſt, And ſnarleth in the gentle eyes of peace: Now▪ Powers from home, and diſcontents at home Meet in one line: and vaſt confuſion waites As doth a Rauen on a ſicke-falne beaſt, The iminent decay of wreſted pompe. Now happy he, whoſe cloake and center can Hold out this tempeſt. Beare away that childe, And follow me with ſpeed: Ile to the King: A thouſand buſineſſes are briefe in hand, And heauen it ſelfe doth frowne vpon the Land. Thus haue I yeelded vp into your hand The Circle of my glory. Take againe From this my hand, as holding of the Pope Your Soueraigne greatneſſe and authoritie. Now keep your holy word, go meet the French, And from his holineſſe vſe all your power To ſtop their marches 'fore we are enflam'd: Our diſcontented Counties doe reuolt: Our people quarrell with obedience, Swearing Allegiance, and the loue of ſoule To ſtranger-bloud, to foren Royalty; This inundation of miſtempred humor, Reſts by you onely to be qualified. Then pauſe not: for the preſent time's ſo ſicke, That preſent medcine muſt be miniſtred, Or ouerthrow incureable enſues.