Drue, Thomas · published 1631 · first performed or written 1624 [licensed for stage, Jan 2] (Annals) history · Prince Palatine's (Palsgrave's) Men unassigned nearest T43 York and Lancaster: dynastic claims and · 508 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T43: henry, king, richard, warwick, york, edward, father, duke, crown, son.
Good morrow to my Lord of Winchester; How do you like our air i'th' Marshalseas, From that i'th' Tower? welcome to't my Lord. Oh I thank your love, But had we once our liberties, We would set night upon these morning skies. Oh that that houre were come, the king on What's that my Lord of London? ay, pray man, pray, that heaven would take Our good king Edward to yond happy land, he's sick, he's sick, heaven take the infant child: For this cracked world his virtues are too mild: Is not this charitable, what sayst thou man? But is the king sick? And princes Mary well, Oh how I long to hear his passing bell. Soft who comes here. Health to my honoured Lords. That were, thou meanest. That are, I bring your Lordships from our an Queen? is Edward dead? King Edward, of that name the sixth, is dead, and Who, who I beseech thee, guides the state? She that repeals you to your former seats, Royal Queen Mary. See. Good hold my back, this sudden blast of comfort Blows me up, where is my rival Ridley and the rest, They now shall fire for this. Sent down to Oxford. Thence they shall not stir, Till fire consume them, if I be Winchester. By me her highness greets you with that sea, Adding unto it, high Chancellor of England. An office good my Lord may coin revenge With justice' stamp to pay our enemies. My Lord of London, that's your title now, Restored unto it with her grace's favour. And if affection lenify my duty, Let me respectless die without her favour. Where be the Lords of Winchester & London? The good Lord Paget, welcome, pray, what news sir? Her highness gives us joint commission By virtue of this Patent to peruse, And cleanse the state of impious sectaries, Wherewith it was infected in the days Of her deceased brother Edward's reign, Without affection of affinity. Of any, not her sister is except. Then let our Suffolk's Dowager expect Answer for her scorned taunts, she threw on me of late That hot spirit, fire and flax, Madam faggot stick, If she recant not I will faggot her, If all the wood in Middlesex can doo Or London's Bishopric have means to pay for't I'll not niggard her bones and I do, arraign my charity. I have already sent Process for her husband, Forth by Clunie. My man, a trusty fellow Worthy employment in the Lollards tower, But here comes Bartie, welcome honest Clunie It was well done, an honest knave, I'll gratify thy love As I will quittance such malignant hates. As whose, an't please your Lordship. A vengeance flatter you, Your courteous ear, wears daggers in your heart. My ear, my Lord, is servant to my heart. They serve indeed to guide the envious heart. Sure I think Bertie be an honest man, Religious was his education, With our deceased Chancellor whom he served, If since his Lady have not weaned him from it.
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)
Good morrow to my Lord of Winchester▪ How doe you like our ayre i'th Marshalseas, From that ith Tower? vvelcome toot my Lord. Oh I thanke your loue, But had we once our liberties, We would set night vpon these morning skies. Oh that that houre were come, the king on Whats that my Lord of London? I, pray man, pray, that heaven would take Our good king Edward to yon happy land, Hee's sicke, hee's sicke, heaven take the nfant child▪ For this crack'd world his vertues are too milde: Is not this charitable, what sayst thou man? But is the king sicke? And princes Mary vvell, Oh how I long to heare his passing bell. Soft who comes heere. Health to my honour'd Lords. That were, thou meanest. That are, I bring your Lordships from our an Queene? is Edward dead? King Edward, of that name the sixt, is dead, and Who, who I beseech thee, guides the state? She that repeales you to your former seats, Royall Queene Mary. See. Good hold my backe, this suddaine blast of comfort Blowes me vp, where is my rivall Ridley and the rest, They now shall fire for this. Sent downe to Oxford. Thence they shall not stirre, Till fire consume them, if I be Winchester. By me her highnesse greetes you with that sea, Adding vnto it, high Chancellor of England. An office good my Lord may coyne revenge With Iustice stampe to pay our enemies. My Lord of London, thats your title now, Restor'd vnto it with her graces favor. And if affection enifie my duty▪ Let me respectlesse die without her favor. Where be the Lords of Winchester & London? The good Lord Paget, welcome, pray, what newes si? Her highnesse giues vs ioynt commission By vertue of this Patent to peruse, And clense the state of impious sectaries, Wherewith it was infected in the dayes Of her deceased brother Edwards raigne, Without affection of affinity. Of any, not her sister is except. Then let our Suffolkes Dowager expect Answere for her scorn'd taunts, she threw on me of late That hot spirit, fire and flax, Madam fagot stick, If she recant not I will fagot her, If all the wood in Middlesex can doo, Or Londons Bishopricke haue meanes to pay fort Ile not niggard her bones and I doe, arayne my charit I haue already sent Processe for her husban Forth by Cluine. My man, a trustie fellow Worthy imployment in the Lollards tower, But heere comes Bartie, welcome honest Clunie It was well done, an honest knaue, Ile gratifie thy loue As I will quittance such malignant hates. As whose, ant please your Lordship. A vengeance flatter you, Your curteous eare, weares daggers in your heart. My eare, my Lord, is servant to my heart. They serue inded to guide the envious heart. Sure I thinke Bertie be an honest man, Religious was his education, With our deceased Chancelor whom he served, If since his Lady haue not wean'd him from it.