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 · 483 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T31: cardinal, pope, king, lord, majesty, holy, rome, france, church, lords.
Which Reformation must be sudden too My Noble Lords; for those that tame wild Horses, Place 'em not in their hands to make 'em gentle; But stop their mouths with stubborn Bits & spur 'em, Till they obey the manage. If we suffer Out of our easiness and childish pity To one man's Honour, this contagious sickness; Farewell all Physic: and what follows then? Commotions, uproars, with a general Taint Of the whole State; as of late days our neighbours, The upper Germany can dearly witness: Yet freshly pitied in our memories. My good Lords; Hitherto, in all the Progress Both of my Life and Office, I have laboured, And with no little study, that my teaching And the strong course of my Authority, Might-goe one way, and safely; and the end Was ever to do well: nor is there living, (I speak it with a single heart, my Lords) A man that more detests, more stirs against, Both in his private Conscience, and his place, Desacers of a public peace than I do: Pray Heaven the King may never find a heart With less Allegiance in it. Men that make Envy, and crooked malice, nourishment; Dare bite the best. I do beseech your Lordships, That in this case of justice, my Accusers, Be what they will, may stand forth face to face, And freely urge against me. Nay, my Lord, That cannot be; you are a Counsellor, And by that virtue no man dare accuse you. My Lord, because we have business of more moment, We will be short with you. 'Tis his Highness' pleasure And our consent, for better trial of you, From hence you be committed to the Tower, Where being but a private man again, You shall know many dare accuse you boldly, More than (I fear) you are provided for. Ah my good Lord of Winchester: I thank you, You are always my good Friend, if your will pass, I shall both find your Lordship, judge and juror, You are so merciful. I see your end, 'Tis my undoing. Love and meekness, Lord Become a Churchman, better than Ambition: Win straying Souls with modesty again, Cast none away: That I shall clear myself, Lay all the weight ye can upon my patience, I make as little doubt as you do conscience, In doing daily wrongs. I could say more, But reverence to your calling, makes me modest. My Lord, my Lord, you are a Sectary, That's the plain truth; your painted gloss discovers To men that understand you, words and weakness. My Lord of Winchester, ye are a little, By your good favour, too sharp; Men so Noble, How ever faultly, yet should find respect For what they have been: 'tis a cruelty, To load a falling man. Good M. Secretary, I cry your Honour mercy; you may worst Of all this Table say so. Why my Lord?
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)
Which Reformation muſt be ſodaine too My Noble Lords; for thoſe that tame wild Horſes, Pace 'em not in their hands to make 'em gentle; But ſtop their mouthes with ſtubborn Bits & ſpurre 'em, Till they obey the mannage. If we ſuffer Out of our eaſineſſe and childiſh pitty To one mans Honour, this contagious ſickneſſe; Farewell all Phyſicke: and what followes then? Commotions, vprores, with a generall Taint Of the whole State; as of late dayes our neighbours, The vpper Germany can deerely witneſſe: Yet freſhly pittied in our memories. My good Lords; Hitherto, in all the Progreſſe Both of my Life and Office, I haue labour'd, And with no little ſtudy, that my teaching And the ſtrong courſe of my Authority, Might-goe one way, and ſafely; and the end Was euer to doe well: nor is there liuing, (I ſpeake it with a ſingle heart, my Lords) A man that more deteſts, more ſtirres againſt, Both in his priuate Conſcience, and his place, Deſacers of a publique peace then I doe: Pray Heauen the King may neuer find a heart With leſſe Allegeance in it. Men that make Enuy, and crooked malice, nouriſhment; Dare bite the beſt. I doe beſeech your Lordſhips, That in this caſe of Iuſtice, my Accuſers, Be what they will, may ſtand forth face to face, And freely vrge againſt me. Nay, my Lord, That cannot be; you are a Counſellor, And by that vertue no man dare accuſe you. My Lord, becauſe we haue buſines of more moment, We will be ſhort with you. 'Tis his Highneſſe pleaſure And our conſent, for better tryall of you, From hence you be committed to the Tower, Where being but a priuate man againe, You ſhall know many dare accuſe you boldly, More then (I feare) you are prouided for. Ah my good Lord of Wincheſter: I thanke you, You are alwayes my good Friend, if your will paſſe, I ſhall both finde your Lordſhip, Iudge and Iuror, You are ſo mercifull. I ſee your end, 'Tis my vndoing. Loue and meekeneſſe, Lord Become a Churchman, better then Ambition: Win ſtraying Soules with modeſty againe, Caſt none away: That I ſhall cleere my ſelfe, Lay all the weight ye can vpon my patience, I make as little doubt as you doe conſcience, In doing dayly wrongs. I could ſay more, But reuerence to your calling, makes me modeſt. My Lord, my Lord, you are a Sectary, That's the plaine truth; your painted gloſſe diſcouers To men that vnderſtand you, words and weakneſſe. My Lord of Wincheſter, y' are a little, By your good fauour, too ſharpe; Men ſo Noble, How euer faultly, yet ſhould finde reſpect For what they haue beene: 'tis a cruelty, To load a falling man. Good M. Secretary, I cry your Honour mercie; you may worſt Of all this Table ſay ſo. Why my Lord?