Shakespeare, William · published 1597 · first performed or written 1596 [1594-1596] (Annals) tragedy · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men unassigned nearest T15 Friars and holy orders in plot · 492 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T15: friar, lord, holy, friars, robin, peggy, lacie, angelo, love, nun.
Bid her get leave to morrow morning To come to shrift to Friar Laurence cell: And stay thou Nurse behind the Abbey wall, My man shall come to thee, and bring along The cords, made like a tackled stair, Which to the high top-gallant of my joy Must be my conduct in the secret night. Hold, take that for thy pains. No, not a penny truly. I say you shall not choose. Well, to morrow morning she shall not fail. Farewell, be trusty, and I'll quite thy pain. Peter, take my fan, and go before. The clock struck nine when I did send my Nurse In half an hour she promised to return. Perhaps she cannot find him. That's not so. Oh she is lazy, loves heralds should be thoughts, And run more swift, than hasty powder fired, Doth hurry from the fearful Cannon's mouth. Oh now she comes. Tell me gentle Nurse, What says my Love? Oh I am weary, let me rest a while. Lord how my bones ache. Oh where's my man? Give me some aqua vitae. I would thou hadst my bones, and I thy news. Fie, what a jaunt have I had: and my back a other side. Lord, Lord, what a case am I in. But tell me sweet Nurse, what says Romeo? Romeo, nay, alas you cannot choose a man. he's no body, he is not the Flower of courtesy, he is not a proper man: and for a hand, and a foot, and a bawdy, well go thy way wench, thou hast it i'faith. Lord, Lord, how my head beats? What of all this? tell me what says he to our marriage? Marry he says like an honest Gentleman, and a kind, and I warrant a virtuous: where's your Mother? Lord, Lord, how oddly thou repliest? He says like a kind Gentleman, and an honest, and a virtuous; where's your mother? Marry come up, cannot you stay a while? is this the poultice for mine a king bones? next arrant you'll have done, even do't yourself. Nay stay sweet Nurse, I do entreat thee now, What says my Love, my Lord, my Romeo? Go, high you strait to Friar Laurence Cell, And frame a excuse that you must go to shrift: There stays a Bridegroom to make you a Bride. Now comes the wanton blood up in your cheeks, I must provide a ladder made of cords, With which your Lord must climb a bride's nest soon. I must take pains to further your delight, But you must bear the burden soon at night. Doth this news please you now? How doth her latter words revive my heart. Thanks gentle Nurse, dispatch thy business, And I'll not fail to meet my Romeo. Now Father Laurence, in thy holy grant Consists the good of me and Iuliet. Without more words I will do all I may, To make you happy if in me it lie.
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)
Bid her get leaue to morrow morning To come to shrift to Frier Laurence cell: And stay thou Nurse behinde the Abbey wall, My man shall come to thee, and bring along The cordes, made like a tackled staire, Which to the high top-gallant of my ioy Must be my conduct in the secret night. Hold, take that for thy paines. No, not a penie truly. I say you shall not chuse. Well, to morrow morning she shall not faile. Farewell, be trustie, and Ile quite thy paine. Peter, take my fanne, and goe before. The clocke stroke nine when I did send my Nursse In halfe an houre she promist to returne. Perhaps she cannot finde him. Thats not so. Oh she is lazie, Loues heralds should be thoughts, And runne more swift, than hastie powder fierd, Doth huie from the fearfull Cannons mouth. Oh now she comes. Tell me gentle Nurse, What sayes my Loue? Oh I am wearie, let mee rest a while. Lord how my bones ake. Oh wheres my man? Giue me some aqua vitae. I would thou hadst my bones, and I thy newes. Fie, what a iaunt haue I had: and my backe a tother side. Lord, Lord, what a case am I in. But tell me sweet Nurse, what sayes Romeo? Romeo, nay, alas you cannot chuse a man. Hees no bodie, he is not the Flower of curesie, he is not a proper man: and for a hand, and a foote, and a baudie, wel go thy way wench, thou hast it ifaith. Lord, Lord, how my head beates? What of all this? tell me what sayes e to our mariage? Marry he sayes like an honest Gentleman, and a kinde, and I warrant a vertuous: wheres your Mother? Lord, Lord, how odly thou repliest? He saies like a kinde Gentleman, and an honest, and a vertuous; wheres your mother? Marry come vp, cannot you stay a while? is this the poultsse for mine a king boanes? next arrant youl haue done, euen doot your selfe. Nay stay sweet Nurse, I doo intreate thee now, What sayes my Loue, my Lord, my Romeo? Goe, hye you straight to Friar Laurence Cell, And frame a scuse that you must goe to shrift: There stayes a Bridegroome to make you a Bride. Now comes the wanton blood vp in your cheekes, I must prouide a ladder made of cordes, With which your Lord must clime a brides nest soone. I must take paines to further your delight, But you must beare the burden soone at night. Doth this newes please you now? How doth her latter words reuiue my hart. Thankes gentle Nurse, dispatch thy busines, And Ile not faile to meete my Romeo. Now Father Laurence, in thy holy grant Consists the good of me and Iuliet. Without more words I will doo all I may, To make you happie if in me it lye.