Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1592 [1591-1592] (Annals) tragedy; history · Derby's (Strange's) Men (?) unassigned nearest T1 Death, grief and revenge · 506 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
Forbear to sleep the night, and fast the day: Compare dead happiness, with living woe: Think that thy Babes were sweeter than they were, And he that slew them fouler than he is: Bett'ring thy loss, makes the bad causer worse, Revolving this, will teach thee how to Curse. My words are dull, O quicken them with thine. Thy woes will make them sharp, And pierce like mine. Why should calamity be full of words? Windy Attorneys to their Clients Woes, Eyrie succeeders of intestine joys, Poor breathing Orators of miseries, Let them have scope, though what they will impart, Help nothing else, yet do they ease the hart. If so then, be not Tongue-tied: go with me, And in the breath of bitter words, let's smother My damned Son, that thy two sweet Sons smothered. The Trumpet sounds, be copious in exclaims. Who intercepts me in my Expedition? O she, that might have intercepted thee By strangling thee in her accursed womb, From all the slaughters (Wretch) that thou hast done. Hidest thou that Forehead with a Golden Crown Where't should be branded, if that right were right? The slaughter of the Prince that owed that Crown, And the dire death of my poor Sons, and Brothers. Tell me thou Villaine-slaue, where are my Children? Thou Toad, thou Toad, Where is thy Brother Clarence? And little Ned Plantagenet his Son? Where is the gentle Rivers, Vaughan, Gray? Where is kind Hastings? A flourish Trumpet's, strike Alarm Drums: Let not the Heavens hear these Tell-tale women Rail on the Lords Anointed. Strike I say. Either be patiented, and entreat me fair, Or with the clamorous report of War, Thus will I drown your exclamations. Art thou my Son? I, I thank God, my Father, and yourself. Then patiently hear my impatience. Madam, I have a touch of your condition, That cannot brook the accent of reproof. O let me speak. Do then, but I'll not hear. I will be mild, and gentle in my words. And brief (good Mother) for I am in haste. Art thou so hasty? I have stayed for thee (God knows) in torment and in agony. And came I not at last to comfort you? No by the holy Rood, thou knowst it well, Thou cam'st on earth, to make the earth my Hell. A grievous burden was thy Birth to me, Tetchy and wayward was thy Infancy. Thy School-days frightful, desperate, wild, and furious, Thy prime of Manhood, daring, bold, and venturous: Thy Age confirmed, proud, subtle, sly, and bloody, More mild, but yet more harmful; Kind in hatred: What comfortable hour canst thou name, That ever graced me with thy company? Faith none, but Humphrey Hour, That called your Grace To Breakfast once, forth of my company. If I be so disgracious in your eye, Let me march on, and not offend you Madam. Strike up the Drum. I prithee hear me speak. You speak too bitterly. Hear me a word: For I shall never speak to thee again. So.
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)
Forbeare to ſleepe the night, and faſt the day: Compare dead happineſſe, with liuing woe: Thinke that thy Babes were ſweeter then they were, And he that ſlew them fowler then he is: Bett'ring thy loſſe, makes the bad cauſer worſe, Reuoluing this, will teach thee how to Curſe. My words are dull, O quicken them with thine. Thy woes will make them ſharpe, And pierce like mine. Why ſhould calamity be full of words? Windy Atturnies to their Clients Woes, Ayery ſucceeders of inteſtine ioyes, Poore breathing Orators of miſeries, Let them haue ſcope, though what they will impart, Helpe nothing els, yet do they eaſe the hart. If ſo then, be not Tongue-ty'd: go with me, And in the breath of bitter words, let's ſmother My damned Son, that thy two ſweet Sonnes ſmother'd. The Trumpet ſounds, be copious in exclaimes. Who intercepts me in my Expedition? O ſhe, that might haue intercepted thee By ſtrangling thee in her accurſed wombe, From all the ſlaughters (Wretch) that thou haſt done. Hid'ſt thou that Forhead with a Golden Crowne Where't ſhould be branded, if that right were right? The ſlaughter of the Prince that ow'd that Crowne, And the dyre death of my poore Sonnes, and Brothers. Tell me thou Villaine-flaue, where are my Children? Thou Toad, thou Toade, Where is thy Brother Clarence? And little Ned Plantagenet his Sonne? Where is the gentle Riuers, Ʋaughan, Gray? Where is kinde Haſtings? A flouriſh Trumpets, ſtrike Alarum Drummes: Let not the Heauens heare theſe Tell-tale women Raile on the Lords Annointed. Strike I ſay. Either be patient, and intreat me fayre, Or with the clamorous report of Warre, Thus will I drowne your exclamations. Art thou my Sonne? I, I thanke God, my Father, and your ſelfe. Then patiently heare my impatience. Madam, I haue a touch of your condition, That cannot brooke the accent of reproofe. O let me ſpeake. Do then, but Ile not heare. I will be milde, and gentle in my words. And breefe (good Mother) for I am in haſt. Art thou ſo haſty? I haue ſtaid for thee (God knowes) in torment and in agony. And came I not at laſt to comfort you? No by the holy Rood, thou know'ſt it well, Thou cam'ſt on earth, to make the earth my Hell. A greeuous burthen was thy Birth to me, Tetchy and wayward was thy Infancie. Thy School-daies frightfull, deſp'rate, wilde, and furious, Thy prime of Manhood, daring, bold, and venturous: Thy Age confirm'd, proud, ſubtle, ſlye, and bloody, More milde, but yet more harmfull; Kinde in hatred: What comfortable houre canſt thou name, That euer grac'd me with thy company? Faith none, but Humfrey Hower, That call'd your Grace To Breakefaſt once, forth of my company. If I be ſo diſgracious in your eye, Let me march on, and not offend you Madam. Strike vp the Drumme. I prythee heare me ſpeake. You ſpeake too bitterly. Heare me a word: For I ſhall neuer ſpeake to thee againe. So.