Shakespeare, William / Fletcher, John · published 1623 · first performed or written 1613 [Jun] (Annals) history · King's Men unassigned nearest T53 The crown: kingship claimed, resigned an · 476 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T53: crown, king, state, life, lord, lords, live, queen, tullia, prince.
It's one a clock Boy, is't not. It hath strooke. These should be hours for necessities, Not for delights: Times to repair our Nature With comforting repose, and not for us To waste these times. Good hour of night Sir Thomas: Whether so late? Came you from the King, my Lord? I did Sir Thomas, and left him at Primero With the Duke of Suffolk. I must to him too Before he go to bed. I'll take my leave. Not yet Sir Thomas Lovel: what's the matter? It seems you are in haste: and if there be No great offence belongs too't, give your Friend Some touch of your late business: Affairs that walk (As they say Spirits do) at midnight, have In them a wilder Nature, than the business That seeks dispatch by day. My Lord, I love you; And durst commend a secret to your ear Much weightier than this work. The Queens in Labour They say in great Extremity, and feared she'll with the Labour, end. The fruit she goes with I pray for hearty, that it may find Good time, and live: but for the Stock Sir Thomas, I wish it grubbed up now. Me thinks I could Cry the Amen, and yet my Conscience says she's a good Creature, and sweet-Ladie does Deserve our better wishes. But Sir, Sir, Hear me Sir Thomas, ye are a Gentleman Of mine own way. I know you Wise, Religious, And let me tell you, it will ne'er be well, 'Twill not Sir Thomas Lovel, take't of me, Till Cranmer, Cromwell, her two hands, and she Sleep in their Graves. Now Sir, you speak of two The most remarked i' th' Kingdom: as for Cromwell, Beside that of the jewell-house, is made Master O' th' Rolls, and the King's Secretary. Further Sir, Stands in the gap and Trade of more Preferments, With which the Lime will load him. Th' Archbishop Is the King's hand, and tongue, and who dare speak One syllable against him? Yes, yes, Sir Thomas, There are that Date, and I myself have ventured To speak my mind of him: and indeed this day, Sir (I may tell it you) I think I have Incensed the Lords o' th' Council, that he is (For so I know he is, they know he is) A most Arch-heretic, a Pestilence That does infect the Land: with which, they moved Have broken with the King, who hath so far Given care to our Complaint, of his great Grace, And Princely Care, foreseeing those fell Mischiefs, Our Reasons laid before him, hath commanded To morrow Morning to the Council Board He be convented. He's a rank weed Sir Thomas, And we must root him out. From your Affairs I hinder you too long: Good night, Sir Thomas. Many good nights, my Lord, I rest your servant.
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)
It's one a clocke Boy, is't not. It hath ſtrooke. Theſe ſhould be houres for neceſsities, Not for delights: Times to repayre our Nature With comforting repoſe, and not for vs To waſte theſe times. Good houre of night Sir Thomas: Whether ſo late? Came you from the King, my Lord? I did Sir Thomas, and left him at Primero With the Duke of Suffolke. I muſt to him too Before he go to bed. Ile take my leaue. Not yet Sir Thomas Louell: what's the matter? It ſeemes you are in haſt: and if there be No great offence belongs too't, giue your Friend Some touch of your late buſineſſe: Affaires that walke (As they ſay Spirits do) at midnight, haue In them a wilder Nature, then the buſineſſe That ſeekes diſpatch by day. My Lord, I loue you; And durſt commend a ſecret to your eare Much waightier then this worke. The Queens in Labor They ſay in great Extremity, and fear'd Shee'l with the Labour, end. The fruite ſhe goes with I pray for heartily, that it may finde Good time, and liue: but for the Stocke Sir Thomas, I wiſh it grubb'd vp now. Me thinkes I could Cry the Amen, and yet my Conſcience ſayes Shee's a good Creature, and ſweet-Ladie do's Deſerue our better wiſhes. But Sir, Sir, Heare me Sir Thomas, y' are a Gentleman Of mine owne way. I know you Wiſe, Religious, And let me tell you, it will ne're be well, 'Twill not Sir Thomas Louell, tak't of me, Till Cranmer, Cromwel, her two hands, and ſhee Sleepe in their Graues. Now Sir, you ſpeake of two The moſt remark'd i' th' Kingdome: as for Cromwell, Beſide that of the Iewell-Houſe, is made Maſter O' th' Rolles, and the Kings Secretary. Further Sir, Stands in the gap and Trade of moe Preferments, With which the Lime will loade him. Th' Archbyſhop Is the Kings hand, and tongue, and who dare ſpeak One ſyllable againſt him? Yes, yes, Sir Thomas, There are that Date, and I my ſelfe haue ventur'd To ſpeake my minde of him: and indeed this day, Sir (I may tell it you) I thinke I haue Incenſt the Lords o' th' Councell, that he is (For ſo I know he is, they know he is) A moſt Arch-Heretique, a Peſtilence That does infect the Land: with which, they moued Haue broken with the King, who hath ſo farre Giuen care to our Complaint, of his great Grace, And Princely Care, fore-ſeeing thoſe fell Miſchiefes, Our Reaſons layd before him, hath commanded To morrow Morning to the Councell Boord He be conuented. He's a ranke weed Sir Thomas, And we muſt root him out. From your Affaires I hinder you too long: Good night, Sir Thomas. Many good nights, my Lord, I reſt your ſeruant.