Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1591 [1590-1591] (Annals) history · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men unassigned nearest T10 England and France: war, embassy and pea · 515 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T10: france, french, england, king, lord, english, edward, talbot, peace, lords.
Ay me, this tyrant Fever burns me up, And will not let me welcome this good news. Set on toward Swinsted: to my Litter strait, Weakness possesseth me, and I am faint. I did not think the King so stored with friends. up once again: put spirit in the French, If they miscarry: we miscarry too. That misbegotten devil Falconbridge, In spite of spite, alone upholds the day. They say King Iohn sore sick, hath left the field. Led me to the Revolts of England here. When we were happy, we had other names. It is the Count Meloone. Wounded to death. Fly Noble English, you are bought and sold, Vnthred the rude eye of Rebellion, And welcome home again discarded faith, Seek out King Iohn, and fall before his feet: For if the French be Lords of this loud day, He means to recompense the pains you take, By cutting off your heads: Thus hath he sworn, And I with him, and many more with me, Upon the Altar at S. Edmondsbury, Even on that Altar, where we swore to you Dear Amity, and everlasting love. May this be possible? May this be true? Have I not hideous death within my view, Retaining but a quantity of life, Which bleeds away, even as a form of wax Resolveth from his figure 'gainst the fire? What in the world should make me now deceive, Since I must lose the use of all deceit? Why should I then be false, since it is true That I must dye here, and live hence, by Truth? I say again, if Lewis do win the day, He is forsworn, if ere those eyes of yours Behold another day break in the East: But even this night, whose black contagious breath Already smokes about the burning Crest Of the old, feeble, and day-wearied Sun, Even this ill night, your breathing shall expire, Paying the fine of rated Treachery, Even with a treacherous fine of all your lives: If Lewis, by your assistance win the day. Commend me to one Hubert, with your King; The love of him, and this respect besides (For that my Grandsite was an Englishman) Awakes my Conscience to confess all this. In lieu whereof, I pray you bear me hence From forth the noise and rumour of the Field; Where I may think the remnant of my thoughts In peace: and part this body and my soul With contemplation, and devout desires. We do believe thee, and beshrew my soul, But I do love the favour, and the form Of this most fair occasion, by the which We will untread the steps of damned flight, And like a bated and retired Flood, Leaving our rankness and irregular course, Stoop low within those bounds we have o'erlooked, And calmly run on in obedience Even to our Ocean, to our great King Iohn. My arm shall give thee help to bear thee hence, For I do see the cruel pangs of death Right in thine eye. Away, my friends, new flight, And happy newness, that intends old right.
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: T8 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Aye me, this tyrant Feauer burnes mee vp, And will not let me welcome this good newes. Set on toward Swinſted: to my Litter ſtraight, Weakneſſe poſſeſſeth me, and I am faint. I did not thinke the King ſo ſtor'd with friends. Vp once againe: put ſpirit in the French, If they miſcarry: we miſcarry too. That misbegotten diuell Falconbridge, In ſpight of ſpight, alone vpholds the day. They ſay King Iohn ſore ſick, hath left the field. Lead me to the Reuolts of England heere. When we were happie, we had other names. It is the Count Meloone. Wounded to death. Fly Noble Engliſh, you are bought and ſold, Vnthred the rude eye of Rebellion, And welcome home againe diſcarded faith, Seeke out King Iohn, and fall before his feete: For if the French be Lords of this loud day, He meanes to recompence the paines you take, By cutting off your heads: Thus hath he ſworne, And I with him, and many moe with mee, Vpon the Altar at S. Edmondsbury, Euen on that Altar, where we ſwore to you Deere Amity, and euerlaſting loue. May this be poſſible? May this be true? Haue I not hideous death within my view, Retaining but a quantity of life, Which bleeds away, euen as a forme of waxe Reſolueth from his figure 'gainſt the fire? What in the world ſhould make me now deceiue, Since I muſt looſe the vſe of all deceite? Why ſhould I then be falſe, ſince it is true That I muſt dye heere, and liue hence, by Truth? I ſay againe, if Lewis do win the day, He is forſworne, if ere thoſe eyes of yours Behold another day breake in the Eaſt: But euen this night, whoſe blacke contagious breath Already ſmoakes about the burning Creſt Of the old, feeble, and day-wearied Sunne, Euen this ill night, your breathing ſhall expire, Paying the fine of rated Treachery, Euen with a treacherous fine of all your liues: If Lewis, by your aſsiſtance win the day. Commend me to one Hubert, with your King; The loue of him, and this reſpect beſides (For that my Grandſite was an Engliſhman) Awakes my Conſcience to confeſſe all this. In lieu whereof, I pray you beare me hence From forth the noiſe and rumour of the Field; Where I may thinke the remnant of my thoughts In peace: and part this bodie and my ſoule With contemplation, and deuout deſires. We do beleeue thee, and beſhrew my ſoule, But I do loue the fauour, and the forme Of this moſt faire occaſion, by the which We will vntread the ſteps of damned flight, And like a bated and retired Flood, Leauing our rankneſſe and irregular courſe, Stoope lowe within thoſe bounds we haue ore-look'd, And calmely run on in obedience Euen to our Ocean, to our great King Iohn. My arme ſhall giue thee helpe to beare thee hence, For I do ſee the cruell pangs of death Right in thine eye. Away, my friends, new flight, And happie newneſſe, that intends old right.