Shakespeare, William / Fletcher, John · published 1634 · first performed or written 1613 [1613-1614] (Annals) tragicomedy · King's Men · Blackfriars unassigned nearest T13 Knights, squires and ladies · 495 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T13: knight, raph, lady, knights, george, master, squire, rafe, pray, god.
You must be there; This Trial is as 'twere i'th' night, and you The only star to shine. I am extinct, There is but envy in that light, which shows The one the other: darkness which ever was The dam of horror, who does stand accursed Of many mortal Millions, may even now By casting her black mantle over both That neither could find other, get herself Some part of a good name, and many a murder Set off whereto she's guilty. You must go. In faith I will not. Why the knights must kindle Their valour at your eye: know of this war You are the Treasure, and must needs be by To give the Service pay. Sir pardon me, The title of a kingdom may be tried Out of itself. Well, well then, at your pleasure, Those that remain with you, could wish their office To any of their Enemies. Farewell Sister, I am like to know your husband fore yourself By some small start of time, he whom the gods Do of the two know best, I pray them he Be made your Lot. Arcite is gently visagd; yet his eye Is like an Engyn bent, or a sharp weapon In a soft sheath; mercy, and manly courage Are bedfellows in his visage: Palamon Has a most menacing aspect, his brow Is graved, and seems to bury what it frowns on, Yet sometime 'tis not so, but altars to The quality of his thoughts; long time his eye Will dwell upon his object. Mellencholly Becomes him nobly; So does Arcites mirth, But Palamons' sadness is a kind of mirth, So mingled, as if mirth did make him sad, And sadness, merry; those darker humours that Stick misbecomingly on others, on them Live in fair dwelling. Hark how you spurs to spirit do incite The Princes to their proof, Arcite may win me, And yet may Palamon wound Arcite to The spoiling of his figure. O what pity Enough for such a chance; if I were by I might do hurt, for they would glance their eyes Toward my Seat, and in that motion might Omit a ward, or forfeit an offence Which craved that very time: it is much better (Cornets. a great cry and noise within crying a Palamon.) I am not there, oh better never borne Then minister to such harm, what is the chance? The Crie's a Palamon. Then he has won: 'twas ever likely, He looked all grace and success, and he is Doubtless the prim'st of men: I prithee run And tell me how it goes. Still Palamon. Run and inquire, poor Servant thou hast lost, Upon my right side still I wore thy picture, Palamons' on the left, why so, I know not, I had no end in't; else chance would have it so. On the sinister side, the heart lies; Palamon Had the best boding chance: This burst of clamour Is sure th'end o'th' Combat.
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)
You must be there; This Tryall is as t'wer i'th night, and you The onely star to shine. I am extinct, There is but envy in that light, which showes The one the other: darkenes which ever was The dam of horrour, who do's stand accurst Of many mortall Millions, may even now By casting her blacke mantle over both That neither could finde other, get her selfe Some part of a good name, and many a murther Set off wherto she's guilty. You must goe. In faith I will not. Why the knights must kindle Their valour at your eye: know of this war You are the Treasure, and must needes be by To give the Service pay. Sir pardon me, The tytle of a kingdome may be tride Out of it selfe. Well, well then, at your pleasure, Those that remaine with you, could wish their office To any of their Enemies. Farewell Sister, I am like to know your husband fore your selfe By some small start of time, he whom the gods Doe of the two know best, I pray them he Be made your Lot. Arcite is gently visagd; yet his eye Is like an Engyn bent, or a sharpe weapon In a sost sheath; mercy, and manly courage Are bedfellowes in his visage: Palamon Has a most menacing aspect, his brow Is grav'd, and seemes to bury what it frownes on, Yet sometime tis not so, but alters to The quallity of his thoughts; long time his eye Will dwell upon his object. Mellencholly Becomes him nobly; So do's Arcites mirth, But Palamons sadnes is a kinde of mirth, So mingled, as if mirth did make him sad, And sadnes, merry; those darker humours that Sticke misbecomingly on others, on them Live in faire dwelling. Harke how you spurs to spirit doe incite The Princes to their proofe, Arcite may win me, And yet may Palamon wound Arcite to The spoyling of his figure. O what pitty Enough for such a chance; if I were by I might doe hurt, for they would glance their eies Toward my Seat, and in that motion might Omit a ward, or forfeit an offence Which crav'd that very time: it is much better (Cornets. a great cry and noice within crying a Palamon.) I am not there, oh better never born Then minister to such harme, what is the chance? The Crie's a Palamon. Then he has won: Twas ever likely, He lookd all grace and successe, and he is Doubtlesse the prim'st of men: I pre'thee run And tell me how it goes. Still Palamon. Run and enquire, poore Servant thou hast lost, Vpon my right side still I wore thy picture, Palamons on the le, why so, I know not, I had no end in't; else chance would have it so. On the sinister side, the heart lyes; Palamon Had the best boding chance: This burst of clamour Is sure th'end o'th Combat.