Shakespeare, William · published 1597 · first performed or written 1592 [1591-1592] (Annals) tragedy; history · Derby's (Strange's) Men (?) unassigned nearest T38 Death, parting and grief at court · 513 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T38: queen, king, death, dead, heart, life, die, lord, royal, news.
And leave out the stay dog for thou shalt hear me If heaven have any grievous plague in store, Exceeding those that I can wish upon thee: O let them keep it till thy sins be ripe, And then hurl down their indignation On thee the troubler of the poor world's peace: The worm of conscience still begnaw thy soul, Thy friends suspect for traitors while thou livest, And take deep traitors for thy dearest friends: No sleep, close up that deadly eye of thine, Unless it be whilst some tormenting dream Affrights thee with a hell of ugly devils. Thou elvish marked abortive rooting hog, Thou that wast sealed in thy nativity The slave of nature, and the son of hell. Thou slander of thy mother's heavy womb, Thou loathed issue of thy father's loins, Thou rag of honour, thou detested, etc. Margaret. Richard. Ha. I call thee not. Then I cry thee mercy, for I had thought That thou hadst called me all these bitter names. Why so I did, but looked for no reply, O Let me make the period to my curse. 'tis done by me, and ends in Margaret. Thus have you breathed your curse against yourself. Poor painted Queen, vain flourish of my fortune Why strewst thou sugar on that bottled spider, Whose deadly web ensnareth thee about? Fool fool, thou whetst a knife to kill thyself, The time will come that thou shalt wish for me, To help thee curse that poisenous bunchbackt toad. False boding woman, end thy frantic curse, Lest to thy harm thou move our patience. Fowl shame upon you, you have all moved mine, Were you well served you would be taught your duty. To serve me well, you all should do me duty, Teach me to be your Queen, and you my subjects: O serve me well, and teach yourselves that duty. Dispute not with her, she is lunatic. Peace Master Marquis you are malapert, Your firenew stamp of honour is scarce currant: O that your young nobility could judge, What ttwere to lose it and be miserable: They that stand high have many blast to shake them▪ And if they fall they dash themselves to pieces. Good counsel marry, learn it learn it Marquis. It toucheth you my Lo: as much as me. Yea and much more▪ but I was borne so high, Our airy buildeth in the Cedar's top, And dallies with the wind, and scorns the sun. And turns the sun to shade, alas, Witness my son, now in the shade of death, Whose bright out shining beams, thy cloudy wrath Hath in eternal darkness folded up: Your airy buildeth in our aieries' nest, O God that seest it, do not suffer it: As it was won with blood, lost be it so. Have done for shame, if not for charity. Urge neither charity nor shame to me, Uncharitably with me have you dealt, And shamefully by you my hopes are butchered, My charity is outrage, life my shame, And in my shame, still live my sorrows rage.
seed 43: T44 · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
And leaue out the stay dog for thou shalt hear me If heauen haue any grieuous plague in store, Exceeding those that I can wish vpon thee: O let them keepe it till thy sinnes be ripe, And then hurle downe their indignation On thee the troubler of the poore worlds peace: The worme of conscience still begnaw thy soule, Thy friends suspect for traitors while thou liuest, And take deepe traitors for thy dearest friends: No sleepe, close vp that deadly eye of thine, Vnlesse it be whilest some tormenting dreame Affrights thee with a hel of vgly duels. Thou eluish markt abortiue rooting hog, Thou that wast seald in thy natiuity The slaue of nature, and the sonne of hell. Thou slaunder of thy mothers heauy wombe, Thou lothed issue of thy fathers loynes, Thou rag of honour, thou detested, &c. Margaret. Richard. Ha. I call thee not. Then I crie thee mercy, for I had thought That thou hadst cald me all these bitter names. Why so I did, but ookt for no reply, O Let me make the period to my curse. Tis done by me, and ends in Margaret. Thus haue you breathed your curse against your selfe. Poore painted Queene, vaine flourish of my fortune Why strewst thou suger on that bottled spider, Whose deadly web ensareth thee about? Foole foole, thou whetst a knife to kill thy selfe, The time will come that thou shalt wish for me, To helpe thee curse that poisenous bunchbackt oade. False boading woman, end thy frantike curse, Lest to thy harme thou moue our patience. Foule shame vpon you, you haue all mou'd mine, Were you well seru'd you would be taught your duty. To serue me well, you all should doe me duty, Teach me to be your Queene, and you my subiects: O serue me well, and teach your selues that duty. Dispute not with her, she is lunatique. Peace Master Marques you are malapert, Your fire-new stampe of honour is scarse currant: O that your young nobility could iudge, What twere to loose it and be miserable: They that stand high haue many blast to shake them▪ And if they fall they dash themselues to pieces. Good counsell mary, learne it learne it Marques. It toucheth you my Lo: asmuch as me. Yea and much more▪ but I was borne so high, Our aiery buildeth in the Cedars top, And dallies with the winde, and scornes the sunne. And turnes the sun to shade, ala, alas, Witnes my son, now in the shade of death, Whose bright out shining beames, thy cloudy wrath Hath in eternall darkenes foulded vp: Your aiey buildeth in our aieries nest, O God that seest it, doe not suffer it: As it was wonne with bloud, lost be it so. Haue done for shame, if not for charity. Vrge neither charity nor shame to me, Vncharitably with me haue you dealt, And shamefully by you my hopes are butcherd, My charity is outrage, life my shame, And in my shame, still liue my sorrowes rage.