Shakespeare, William / Fletcher, John · published 1623 · first performed or written 1613 [Jun] (Annals) history · King's Men unassigned nearest T31 Popes, cardinals and the crown · 468 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T31: cardinal, pope, king, lord, majesty, holy, rome, france, church, lords.
Fairly answered: A Loyal, and obedient Subject is Therein illustrated, the Honour of it Does pay the Act of it, as i' th' contrary The foulness is the punishment. I presume, That as my hand has opened Bounty to you, My heart dropped Love, my power rained Honour, more On you, than any: So your Hand, and Heart, Your Brain, and every Function of your power, Should, notwithstanding that your bond of duty, As 'twere in Love's particular, be more To me your Friend, than any. I do profess, That for your Highness' good, I ever laboured More than mine own: that am, have, and will be (Though all the world should crack their duty to you, And throw it from their Soul, though perils did Abound, as thick as thought could make 'em, and Appear in forms more horrid) yet my Duty, As doth a Rock against the chiding Flood, Should the approach of this wild River break, And stand unshaken yours. 'Tis Nobly spoken: Take notice Lords, he has a Loyal breast, For you have seen him open't. Read o'er this, And after this, and then to Breakfast with What appetite you have. What should this mean? What sudden Anger's this? How have I reaped it? He parted Frowning from me, as if Ruin leapt from his Eyes. So looks the chafed Lion Upon the daring Huntsman that has galled him: Then makes him nothing. I must read this paper: I fear the Story of his Anger. 'Tis so: This paper has undone me: 'Tis th' Account Of all that world of Wealth I have drawn together For mine own ends, (Indeed to gain the Popedom, And fee my Friends in Rome.) O Negligence! Fit for a Fool to fall by: What cross Devil Made me put this main Secret in the Packet I sent the King? Is there no way to cure this? No new device to beat this from his Brains? I know 'twill stir him strongly; yet I know A way, if it take right, in spite of Fortune Will bring me off again. What's this? To th' Pope? The Letter (as I live) with all the Business I writ too's Holiness. Nay then, farewell: I have touched the highest point of all my Greatness, And from that full Meridian of my Glory, I haste now to my Setting. I shall fall Like a bright exhalation in the Evening, And no man see me more. Hear the King's pleasure Cardinal, Who commands you To render up the Great Seal presently Into our hands, and to Confine yourself To Asher-house, my Lord of Winchesters, Till you hear further from his Highness. Stay: Where's your Commission? Lords, words cannot carry Authority so weighty. Who dare cross 'em, Bearing the Kings will from his mouth expressly?
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)
Fairely anſwer'd: A Loyall, and obedient Subiect is Therein illuſtrated, the Honor of it Does pay the Act of it, as i' th' contrary The fowleneſſe is the puniſhment. I preſume, That as my hand ha's open'd Bounty to you, My heart drop'd Loue, my powre rain'd Honor, more On you, then any: So your Hand, and Heart, Your Braine, and euery Function of your power, Should, notwithſtanding that your bond of duty, As 'twer in Loues particular, be more To me your Friend, then any. I do profeſſe, That for your Highneſſe good, I euer labour'd More then mine owne: that am, haue, and will be (Though all the world ſhould cracke their duty to you, And throw it from their Soule, though perils did Abound, as thicke as thought could make 'em, and Appeare in formes more horrid) yet my Duty, As doth a Rocke againſt the chiding Flood, Should the approach of this wilde Riuer breake, And ſtand vnſhaken yours. 'Tis Nobly ſpoken: Take notice Lords, he ha's a Loyall breſt, For you haue ſeene him open't. Read o're this, And after this, and then to Breakfaſt with What appetite you haue. What ſhould this meane? What ſodaine Anger's this? How haue I reap'd it? He parted Frowning from me, as if Ruine Leap'd from his Eyes. So lookes the chafed Lyon Vpon the daring Huntſman that has gall'd him: Then makes him nothing. I muſt reade this paper: I feare the Story of his Anger. 'Tis ſo: This paper ha's vndone me: 'Tis th' Accompt Of all that world of Wealth I haue drawne together For mine owne ends, (Indeed to gaine the Popedome, And fee my Friends in Rome.) O Negligence! Fit for a Foole to fall by: What croſſe Diuell Made me put this maine Secret in the Packet I ſent the King? Is there no way to cure this? No new deuice to beate this from his Braines? I know 'twill ſtirre him ſtrongly; yet I know A way, if it take right, in ſpight of Fortune Will bring me off againe. What's this? To th' Pope? The Letter (as I liue) with all the Buſineſſe I writ too's Holineſſe. Nay then, farewell: I haue touch'd the higheſt point of all my Greatneſſe, And from that full Meridian of my Glory, I haſte now to my Setting. I ſhall fall Like a bright exhalation in the Euening, And no man ſee me more. Heare the Kings pleaſure Cardinall, Who commands you To render vp the Great Seale preſently Into our hands, and to Confine your ſelfe To Aſher-houſe, my Lord of Wincheſters, Till you heare further from his Highneſſe. Stay: Where's your Commiſſion? Lords, words cannot carrie Authority ſo weighty. Who dare croſſe 'em, Bearing the Kings will from his mouth expreſſely?