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 T60 Imperial Rome: rulers, favour and politi · 520 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T60: caesar, rome, emperor, empire, honour, lord, lucius, great, palsgrave, kings.
Madam depart at pleasure, leave us here. Farewell Andronicus, Revenge now goes, To lay a complot to betray thy foes. I know thou dost and sweet Revenge farewell. Tell us old man how shall we be employed, Tut I have work enough for you to do Publius, come hither, Caius, and Valentine. What is your will? Know you these two. The empress sons I take them, Chiron. Demetrius. Fie, Publius fie, thou art too much deceived, The one is Murder and Rape is the others name, And therefore bind them gentle Publius, Caius and Valentine, lay hands on them, Oft have you heard me wish for such an hour, And now I find it therefore bind them sure, And stop their mouths if they begin to cry. Villains forbear we are the Empress sons. And therefore do we what we are commanded, Stop close their mouths let them not speak a word, Is he sure bound, look that you bind them fast. Come, come, Lavinia look thy foes are bound, Sirs stop their mouths let them not speak to me, But let them hear what fearful words I utter. Oh villains Chiron and Demetrius, Here stands the spring whom you have stained with mud, This goodly summer with your winter mixed, You killed her husband, and for that vild fault, Two of her brothers were condemned to death, My hand cut off and made a merry jest, Both her sweet hands, her tongue, and that more dear Than hands or tongue, her spotless chastity, Inhumame traitors you constrained and forced. What would you say if I should let you speak? Villains for shame you could not beg for grace. Hark wretches how I mean to martyr you, This one hand yet is left to cut your throats, While that Lavinia tween her stumps doth hold, The basin that receives your guilty blood. You know your Mother means to feast with me, And calls herself Revenge and thinks me mad. Hark villains I will grind your bones to dust, And with your blood and it I'll make a paste, And of the passed a coffin I will rear, And make two pasties of your shameful heads, And bid that strumpet your unhallowed Dam, Like to the earth swallow her own increase. This is the feast that I have bid her too, And this the banquet she shall surfeit on, For worse than Philomel you used my daughter, And worse than Progne I will be revenged. And now prepare your throats, Lavinia come, Receive the blood, and when that they are dead, Let me go grind their bones to powder small, And with this hateful liquor temper it, And in that paste let their vile heads be baked, Come, come, be every one officius, To make this banquet which I wish may prove More stern and bloody than the Centauris feast, So now bring them in for I'll play the Cook, And see them ready against their Mother comes, Uncle Marcus, since 'tis my Father's mind, That I repair to Rome I am content. And ours with thine, befall what Fortune will.
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)
Maddam depart at pleasure, leaue vs here. Farewell Andronicus, Reuenge now goes, To lay a complot to betray thy foes. I know thou dost and sweet Reuenge farewell. Tell vs old man how shall we be imploid, Tut I haue worke enough for you to doe Publius, come hither, Caius, and Valentine. VVhat is your will? Know you these two. The Empresse sonnes I take them, Chiron. Demetrius. Fie, Publius fie, thou art too much deceaude, The one is Murder and Rape is the others name, And therefore binde them gentle Publius, Caius and Valentine, lay hands on them, Oft haue you heard me wish for such an houre, And now I finde it therefore binde them sure, And stop their mouthes if they begin to crie. Villaines forbeare we are the Empresse sons. And therefore doe we what we are commanded, Stop close their mouthes let them not speak a word, Is he sure bound, looke that you bind them fast. Come, come, Lauinia looke thy foes are bound, Sirs stop their mouthes let them not speake to me, But let them heare what earefull words I vtter. Oh villaines Chiron and Dmetrius, Here stands the spring whome you haue staind with mud, Tis goodly sommer with your winter mixt, You kild her husband, and for that vild fault, Two of her brothers were condemnd to death, My hand cut off and made a merrie iest, Both her sweete hands, hir tongue, and that more deare Than hands or tongue, her spotlesse chastitie, Inhumame traitors you constraind and forst. VVhat would you say if I should let you speake? Villaines for shame you could not beg for grace. Harke wretches how I meane to marter you, This one hand yet is left to cut your throats, VVhiles that Lauinia tweene her stumps doth hold, The bason that receaues your guiltie blood. You know your Mother meanes to feast with me, And calles herselfe Reuenge and thinks me mad. Harke villaines I will grinde your bones to dust, And with your blood and it Ile make a paste, And of the paste a coffen I will reare, And make two pasties of your shamefull heades, And bid that strumpet your vnhallowed Dam, Like to the earth swallow her owne increase. This is the feast that I haue bid her too, And this the banket she shall surfet on, For worse than Philomell you vsde my daughter, And worse than Progne I will be reuengd. And now prepare your throats, Lauinia come, Receaue the blood, and when that they are dead, Let me goe grinde their bones to powder small, And with this hatefull liquour temper it, And in that paste let their vile heades be bakt, Come, come, be euerie one officius, To make this banket which I wish may proue More sterne and bloodie than the Centaurs feast, So now bring them in for Ile play the Cooke, And see them readie against their Mother comes, Vnckle Marcus, since tis my Fathers minde, That I repaire to Rome I am content. And ours with thine, befall what Fortune will.