Shakespeare, William · published 1631 · first performed or written 1592 [c.1590-1604] (Annals) comedy · Pembroke's Men · Blackfriars unassigned nearest T35 Fools, wit and railing · 501 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T35: fool, wit, aristippus, achilles, wise, fools, patroclus, thersites, master, men.
Moved in good time, let him that moved you hither Remove you hence: I Knew you at the first You were a movable. Why, what's a movable? A joined stool. Thou hast hit it: come sit on me. Asses are made to bear, and so are you, Women are made to bear, and so are you No such jade as you, if me you mean Alas good Kate, I will not burden thee, For knowing thee to be but young and light. Too light for such a swain as you to catch, And yet as heavy as my weight should be. Should be, should: buzz. Well ta'en, and like a buzzard. Oh slow-winged Turtle shall a buzzard take thee? I for a Turtle as he takes a buzzard. Come, come you wasp, y'faith you are too angry. If I be waspish, best beware my sting. My remedy is then to pluck it out. I, If the fool could find it where it lies. Who knows not where a Wasp does wear his sting? In his tail. In his tongue? Whose tongue. Yours if you talk of tails, and so farewell. What with my tongue in your tail. Nay, come again, good Kate, I am a Gentleman, That I'll try. I swear I'll cuff you, if you strike again. So may you lose your arms. If you strike me, you are no Gentleman, And if no Gentleman, why then no arms. A Herald Kate? Oh put me in thy books. What is your Crest, a Coxcomb? A combelesse Cock, so Kate will be my Hen. No Cock of mine you crow too like a craven. Nay come Kate come: you must not look so sour. It is my fashion when I see a Crab. Why here's no crab, and therefore look not sour. There is, there is. Then show it me. Had I a glass, I would. What, you mean my face. Well aimed of such a young one. Now by S. George I am too young for you. Yet you are withered. 'Tis with cares. I care not. Nay hear you Kate. In soothe you scape not so. I chafe you if I tarry. Let me go. No, not a whit, I find you passing gentle: 'Twas told me you were rough, and coy, and sullen, And now I find report a very liar: For thou art pleasant, gamesome, passing courteous, But slow in speech: yet sweet as spring-time flowers. Thou canst not frown, thou canst not look a sconce, Nor bite the lip, as angry wenches will, Nor hast thou pleasure to be cross in talk: But thou with mildness entertainest thy wooers, With gentle conference, soft, and affable. Why does the world report that Kate doth limp? Oh slanderous world: Kate like the hazle twig Is strait, and slender, and as brown in hue As hazle nuts, and sweeter than the kernels: Oh let me see thee walk, thou dost not halt. Go fool, and whom thou keep'st command.
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)
Mou'd in good time, let him that mou'd you hither Remoue you hence: I Knew you at the firſt You were a moueable. Why, what's a moueable? A ioyn'd ſtoole. Thou haſt hit it: come ſit on me. Aſſes are made to beare, and ſo are you, Women are made to beare, and ſo are you No ſuch Iade as you, if me you meane Alas good Kate, I will not burden thee, For knowing thee to be but yong and light. Too light for ſuch a ſwaine as you to catch, And yet as heauie as my waight ſhould be. Shold be, ſhould: buzze. Well tane, and like a buzzard. Oh ſlow-wing'd Turtle ſhall a buzzard take thee? I for a Turtle as he takes a buzzard. Come, come you waſpe, y'ſaith you are too angrie. If I be waſpiſh, beſt beware my ſting. My remedy is then to plucke it out. I, If the foole could finde it where it lies. Who knowes not where a Waſpe does weare his ſting? In his taile. In his tongue? Whoſe tongue. Yours if you talke of tailes, and ſo farewell. What with my tongue in your taile. Nay, come againe, good Kate, I am a Gentleman, That Ile trie. I ſweare Ile cuffe you, if you ſtrike againe. So may you looſe your armes. If you ſtrike me, you are no Gentleman, And if no Gentleman, why then no armes. A Herald Kate? Oh put me in thy bookes. What is your Creſt, a Coxcombe? A combeleſſe Cocke, ſo Kate will be my Hen. No Cocke of mine you crow too like a crauen. Nay come Kate come: you muſt not looke ſo ſowre. It is my faſhion when I ſee a Crab. Why heere's no crab, and therefore looke not ſowre. There is, there is. Then ſhew it mee. Had I a glaſſe, I would. What, you meane my face. Well aym'd of ſuch a yong one. Now by S. George I am too yong for you. Yet you are wither'd. 'Tis with cares. I care not. Nay heare you Kate. In ſooth you ſcape not ſo. I chafe you if I tarrie. Let me go. No, not a whit, I find you paſſing gentle: 'Twas told me you were rough, and coy, and ſullen, And now I finde report a very lyar: For thou art pleaſant, gameſome, paſſing courteous, But ſlow in ſpeech: yet ſweete as ſpring-time flowers. Thou canſt not frowne, thou canſt not looke a ſconce, Nor bite the lip, as angrie wenches will, Nor haſt thou pleaſure to be croſſe in talke: But thou with mildneſſe entertain'ſt thy wooers, With gentle conference, ſoft, and affable. Why does the world report that Kate doth limpe? Oh ſland'rous world: Kate like the hazle twig Is ſtraight, and ſlender, and as browne in hue As hazle nuts, and ſweeter then the kernels: Oh let me ſee thee walke, thou doſt not halt. Go foole, and whom thou keep'ſt command.