Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1595 (Annals) tragedy; history · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men unassigned nearest T52 Prodigals, portions and poor kin · 516 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T52: brother, father, uncle, cousin, son, poor, bread, old, given, master.
His answer was: he would unto the Stews, And from the commonest creature pluck a Glove And wear it as a favour, and with that He would unhorsed the lustiest Challenger. As dissolute as desperate, yet through both, I see some sparks of better hope: which elder days May happily bring forth. But who comes here? Where is the King? What means our Cousin, that he stairs And looks so wildly? God save your Grace. I do beseech your Majesty To have some conference with your Grace alone. Withdraw yourselves, and leave us here alone: What is the matter with our Cousin now? For ever may my knees grow to the earth, My tongue cleave to my roof within my mouth, Unless a Pardon, ere I rise, or speak. Intended, or committed was this fault? If on the first, how heinous ere it be, To win thy after love, I pardon thee. Then give me leave, that I may turn the key, That no man enter, till my tale me done. Have thy desire. My Liege beware, look to thyself, Thou hast a Traitor in thy presence there. Villain, I'll make thee safe. Stay thy revengeful hand, thou hast no cause to fear. Open the door, secure foolhardy King: Shall I for love speak treason to thy face? Open the door, or I will break it open. What is the matter (Uncle) speak, recover breath, Tell us how near is danger, That we may arm us to encounter it. Peruse this writing here, and thou shalt know The reason that my haste forbids me show. Remember as thou readest, thy promise past: I do repent me, read not my name there, My heart is not confederate with my hand. It was (villain) ere thy hand did set it down. I tore it from the Traitor's bosom, King. Fear, and not Love, begets his penitence; Forget to pity him, lest thy pity prove A Serpent, that will sting thee to the heart. Oh heinous, strong, and bold Conspiracy, O loyal Father of a treacherous Son: Thou sheer, immaculate, and silver fountain, From whence this stream, through muddy passages Hath had his current, and defiled himself. Thy overflow of good, converts to bad, And thy abundant goodness shall excuse This deadly blot, in thy digressing son. So shall my Virtue be his Vice's bawd, And he shall spend mine Honour, with his Shame; As thriftless Sons, their scraping Fathers Gold. Mine honour lives, when his dishonour dies, Or my shamed life, in his dishonour lies: Thou killest me in his life, giving him breath, The Traitor lives, the true man's put to death. What hoa (my Liege) for heaven's sake let me in. What shrill-voiced Suppliant, makes this eager cry? A woman, and thine Aunt (great King) 'tis I Speak with me, pity me, open the door, A Beggar begs, that never begged before. Our Scene is altered from a serious thing, And now changed to the Beggar, and the King. My dangerous Cousin, let your Mother in, I know she's come, to pray for your foul sin.
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)
His anſwer was: he would vnto the Stewes, And from the common'ſt creature plucke a Gloue And weare it as a fauour, and with that He would vnhorſe the luſtieſt Challenger. As diſſolute as deſp'rate, yet through both, I ſee ſome ſparkes of better hope: which elder dayes May happily bring forth. But who comes heere? Where is the King? What meanes our Coſin, that hee ſtares And lookes ſo wildely? God ſaue your Grace. I do beſeech your Maieſty To haue ſome conference with your Grace alone. Withdraw your ſelues, and leaue vs here alone: What is the matter with our Coſin now? For euer may my knees grow to the earth, My tongue cleaue to my roofe within my mouth, Vnleſſe a Pardon, ere I riſe, or ſpeake. Intended, or committed was this fault? If on the firſt, how heynous ere it bee, To win thy after loue, I pardon thee. Then giue me leaue, that I may turne the key, That no man enter, till my tale me done. Haue thy deſire. My Liege beware, looke to thy ſelfe, Thou haſt a Traitor in thy preſence there. Villaine, Ile make thee ſafe. Stay thy reuengefull hand, thou haſt no cauſe to feare. Open the doore, ſecure foole-hardy King: Shall I for loue ſpeake treaſon to thy face? Open the doore, or I will breake it open. What is the matter (Vnkle) ſpeak, recouer breath, Tell vs how neere is danger, That we may arme vs to encounter it. Peruſe this writing heere, and thou ſhalt know The reaſon that my haſte forbids me ſhow. Remember as thou read'ſt, thy promiſe paſt: I do repent me, reade not my name there, My heart is not confederate with my hand. It was (villaine) ere thy hand did ſet it downe. I tore it from the Traitors boſome, King. Feare, and not Loue, begets his penitence; Forget to pitty him, leaſt thy pitty proue A Serpent, that will ſting thee to the heart. Oh heinous, ſtrong, and bold Conſpiracie, O loyall Father of a treacherous Sonne: Thou ſheere, immaculate, and ſiluer fountaine, From whence this ſtreame, through muddy paſſages Hath had his current, and defil'd himſelfe. Thy ouerflow of good, conuerts to bad, And thy abundant goodneſſe ſhall excuſe This deadly blot, in thy digreſſing ſonne. So ſhall my Vertue be his Vices bawd, And he ſhall ſpend mine Honour, with his Shame; As thriftleſſe Sonnes, their ſcraping Fathers Gold. Mine honor liues, when his diſhonor dies, Or my ſham'd life, in his diſhonor lies: Thou kill'ſt me in his life, giuing him breath, The Traitor liues, the true man's put to death. What hoa (my Liege) for heauens ſake let me in. What ſhrill-voic'd Suppliant, makes this eager cry? A woman, and thine Aunt (great King) 'tis I. Speake with me, pitty me, open the dore, A Begger begs, that neuer begg'd before. Our Scene is alter'd from a ſerious thing, And now chang'd to the Begger, and the King. My dangerous Coſin, let your Mother in, I know ſhe's come, to pray for your foule ſin.