Shakespeare, William · published 1597 · first performed or written 1592 [1591-1592] (Annals) tragedy; history · Derby's (Strange's) Men (?) unassigned nearest T40 Sin, guilt and violent loss within famil · 495 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T40: brother, death, life, die, heaven, sin, live, father, blood, soul.
I say without characters fame lives long: Thus like the formal vice iniquity, I moralize two meanings in one word. That Iulius Cesar was a famous man, With what his valour did enrich his wit, His wit set down to make his valour live: Death makes no conquest of this conqueror, For now he lives in fame though not in life: I'll tell you what my cozen Buckingham. What my gracious Lord? And if I li●e until I be a man, I'll win our ancient right in France again, Or die a soldier as I lived a King. Short summers lightly have a forward spring. Now in good time here comes the Duke of York. Rich. of York how fares our loving brother? Well my dread Lo: so must I call you now. I brother to our grief as it is yours: Too late he died that might have kept that title, Which by his death hath lost much majesty. How fares our cozen noble Lo: of York▪ I thank you gentle Uncle. O my Lo: You said that idle weeds are fast in growth: The Prince my brother hath outgrowen me far. He hath my Lo: And therefore is he idle? Oh my fair cozen, I must not say so. Then he is more beholding to you then I. He may command me as my sovereign, But you have power in me as in a kinsman. I pray you Uncle give me this dagger. My dagger little cozen, withal my heart. A beggar brother? Of my kind Uncle that I know will give, And being but a toy, which is no grief to give. A greater gift than that, I'll give my cozen. A greater gift, O that's the sword to it. I gentle cozen, were it light enough. O than I see you will part but with light gifts, In weightier things you'll say a beggar nay. It is too heavy for your Grace to wear. I weigh it lightly were it heavier. What would you have my weapon little Lord? I would, that I might thank you as you call me. How? Little. My Lo: of York will still be cross in talk: your grace knows how to bear with him. You mean to bear me, not to bear with 〈◊〉 Uncle, my brother mocks both you and me, Because that I am little like an Ape, He thinks that you should bear me on your shoulders. With what a sharp provided wit he reasons, To mitigate the scorn he gives his Uncle: He prettily and aptly taunts himself, So cunning and so young is wonderful. My Lo: wilt please you pass along, Myself and my good Cousin Buckingham▪ Will to your mother, to entreat of her, To meet you at the tower, and welcome you. What will you go unto the tower my Lo.▪ My Lo: protector needs will have it so. I shall not sleep in quiet at the tower.
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)
I say without characters fame liues long: Thus like the formall vice iniquity, I morallize two meanings in one word. That Iulius Cesar was a famous man, With what his valour did enrich his wit, His wit set downe to make his valure liue: Death makes no conquest of this conquerour, For now he lues in fame though not in life: Ile tell you what my Cosen Buckingham. What my gratious Lord? And if I lie vntill I be a man, Ile winne our auncint right in France againe, Or die a souldier as I liude a King. Short summers lightly haue a forward spring. Now in good time here comes the Duke of Yorke. Rich. of Yorke how fares our louing brother? Well my dread Lo: so must I call you now. I brother to our griefe as it is yours: Too late he died that might haue kept that title, Which by his death hath lost much maiesty. How fares our Cosen noble Lo: of Yorke▪ I thanke you gentle Vnckle. O my Lo: You said that idle weedes are fast in growth: The Prince my brother hath outgrowen me farre. He hath my Lo: And therfore is he idle? Oh my faire Cosen, I must not say so. Then he is more beholding to you then I. He may command me as my soueraigne, But you haue power in me as in a kinseman. I pray you Vnckle gie me this dagger. My dagger little Cosen, withall my heart. A begger brother? Of my kind Vnckle that I know will giue, And being but a toy, which is no griefe to giue. A greater git then that, Ile giue my Cosen. A greater gift, O thats the sword to it. I gentle Cosen, were it light enough. O then I see you will part but with light gifts, In weightier things youle say a begger nay. It is too heauy for your Grace to weare. I weigh it lightly were it heauier. What would you haue my weapon little Lord? I would, that I might thanke you as you call me. How? Little. My Lo: of Yorke will still be crosse in talke: your grace knowes how to beare with him. You meane to beare me, not to beare with Vnckle, my brother mockes both you and me, Because that I am little like an Ape, He thinkes that you should beare me on your shoulders. With what a sharpe prouided wit he reasons, To mittigate the scorne he giues his Vnckle: He pretely and aptly taunts himselfe, So cunning and so young is wonderfull. My Lo: wilt please you passe along, My selfe and my good Coosen Buckingham▪ Will to your mother, to entreate of her, To meete you at the tower, and welcome you. What will you go vnto the tower my Lo▪ My Lo: protector needes will haue it so. I shall not sleepe in quiet at the tower.