Peele, George / Shakespeare, William · published 1594 · first performed or written 1594 [Jan 23 (24); poss. written 1590-1592] (Annals) tragedy · Pembroke's Men (?) unassigned nearest T1 Death, grief and revenge · 500 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
What canst thou say all this and never blushy? I like a black Dog, as the saying is● Art thou not sorry for these heinous deeds. I that I had not done a thousand more, Even now I curse the day and yet I think Few come within the compass of my curse, wherein I did not some notorious ill. As kill a man, or else devise his death, Ravish a maid, or plot the way to do it, Accuse some innocent, and forswear myself, Set deadly enmity between two friends, Make poor men's cattle break their necks, Set fire on barns and haystalks in the night, And bid the owners quench them with their tears: Oft have I digged up dead men from their graves, And set them upright at their dear friends door, Even when their sorrows almost was forgot, And on their skins as on the bark of trees, Have with my knife carved in Roman letters, Let not your sorrow die though I am dead. But I have done a thousand dreadful things, As willingly as one would kill a fly, And nothing grieves me heartily indeed, But that I cannot do ten thousand more. Bring down the Devil for he must not die, So sweet a death as hanging presently. If there be Devils would I were a Devil, To live and burn in everlasting fire, So I might have your company in hell, But to torment you with my bitter tongue. Sirs stop his mouth and let him speak no more. My Lord there is a messenger from Rome, Desires to be admitted to your presence. Let him come near. Welcome Emillius, what's the news from Rome? Lord Lucius, and you Princes of the Goths, The Roman Emperor greets you all by me, And for he understands you are in arms, He craves a Parley at your father's house, Willing you to demand your hostages, And they shall be immediately delivered. What says our General. Emillius, let the Emperor give his pledges, Unto my Father and my Uncle Marcus, And we will come, march away. Thus in this strange and sad habilliament, I will encounter with Andronicus, And say I am revenge sent from below, To join with him and right his heinous wrongs, Knock at his study where they say he keeps, To ruminate strange plots of dear revenge, Tell him revenge is come to join with him, And work confusion on his enemies. Who doth molest my contemplation? Is it your trick to make me open the door, That so my saddecrees may fly away, And all my study be to no effect. You are deceived, for what I mean to do, See here in bloody lines I have set down. And what is written shall be executed. Titus, I am come to talk with thee. No not a word, how can I grace my talk, Wanting a hand to give that accord, Thou hast the odds of me therefore no more.
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)
VVhat canst thou say all this and neuer blush I like a blacke Dog, as the saying is Art thou not sorrie for these hainous deeds. I that I had not done a thousand more, Euen now I curse the day and yet I thinke Fewe come within the compasse of my curse, wherein I did not some notorious ill. As kill a man, or els deuise his death, Rauish a maide, or plot the waie to doe it, Accuse some innocent, and forsweare my selfe, Set deadly enmitie betweene two friends, Make poore mens cattle breake their necks, Set fire on barnes and haystalks in the night, And bid the owners quench them with their teares: Oft haue I digd vp dead men from their graues, And set them vpright at their deare friends dore, Euen when their sorrowes almost was forgot, And on their skinnes as on the barke of trees, Haue with my knife carued in Romaine letters, Let not your sorrow die though I am dead. But I haue done a thousand dreadfull things, As willingly as one would kill a flie, And nothing grieues me hartelie indeede, But that I cannot doe ten thousand more. Bring downe the Diuell for he must not die, So sweet a death as hanging presently. If there be Diuels would I were a Diuel, To liue and burne in euerlasting fire, So I might haue your companie in hell, But to torment you with my bitter tongue. Sirs stop his mouth and let him speake no more. My Lord there is a messenger from Rome, Desiers to be admitted to your presene. Let him come nere. VVelcome Emillius, what's the newes from Rome? Lord Lucius, and you Princes of the Gothes, The Romaine Emperour greets you all by me, And for he vnderstands you are in Ames, He craues a Parley at your fathers house, VVilling you to demaund your hostages, And they shall be immediatly deliuered. VVhat saies our Generall. Emillius, let the Emperour giue his pledges, Vnto my Father and my Vnkle Marcus, And we will come, march away. Thus in this strange and sad habilliament, I will encounter with Andronicus, And say I am reuenge sent from belowe, To ioyne with him and right his hamous wrongs, Knocke at his studie where they say he keepes, To ruminate strange plots of diere reuenge, Tell him reuenge is come to ioyne with him, And worke confusion on his enemies. VVho doth molest my contemplation? Is it your tricke to make me ope the dore, That so my saddecrees may flie away, And all my studie be to no effect. You are deceiude, for what I meane to doe, See here in bloodie lines I haue set downe. And what is written shall be executed. Titus, I am come to talke with thee. No not a word, how can I grace my talke, VVanting a hand to giue that accord, Thou hast the odds of me therefore no more.