Shakespeare, William · published 1597 · first performed or written 1596 [1594-1596] (Annals) tragedy · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men T15 Friars and holy orders in plot typicality 0.91 · 524 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T15: friar, lord, holy, friars, robin, peggy, lacie, angelo, love, nun.
Tell me not Friar that thou hearst of it, Unless thou tellme me how we may prevent it. Give me some sudden counsel: else behold Twixt my extremes and me, this bloody Knife Shall play the Vmpeere, arbitrating that Which the Commission of thy years and art Can to no issue of true honour bring. Speak not, be brief: for I desire to die, If what thou speak'st, speak not of remedy. Stay Iuliet, I do spy a kind of hope, Which craves as desperate an execution, As that is desperate we would prevent. If rather than to marry County Paris Thou hast the strength or will to slay thyself, 'tis not unlike that thou wilt undertake A thing like death to chide away this shame, That coapst with death itself to fly from blame. And if thou dost, I'll give thee remedy. Oh bid me leap (rather than marry Paris) From off the battlements of yonder tower: Or chain me to some steepy mountains top, Where roaring Bears and savage Lions are: Or shut me nightly in a Charnell-house, With reekie shanks, and yellow chapless skulls: Or lay me in tomb with one new dead: Things that to hear them named have made me tremble; And I will do it without fear or doubt, To keep myself a faithful unstained Wife To my dear Lord, my dearest Romeo. Hold Iuliet, hie thee home, get thee to bed, Let not thy Nurse lie with thee in thy Chamber: And when thou art alone, take thou this Viol, And this distilled Liquor drink thou off: When presently through all thy veins shall run A dull and heavy slumber, which shall seize Each vital spirit: for no Pulse shall keep His natural progress, but surcease to beat: No sign of breath shall testify thou liv'sst. And in this borrowed likeness of shrunk death, Thou shalt remain full two and forty hours. And when thou art laid in thy Kindred's Vault, He send in haste to Mantua to thy Lord, And he shall come and take thee from thy grave. Friar I go, be sure thou send for my dear Romeo. Where are you sirrah? Hear forsooth. Go, provide me twenty cunning Cooks. I warrant you Sir, let me alone for that, I'll know them by licking their fingers. How canst thou know them so? Ah Sir, 'tis an ill Cook cannot lick his own fingers. Well get you gone. But where's this Headstrong? she's gone (my Lord) to Friar Laurence Cell To be confessed. Ah, he may hap to do some good of her, A headstrong selfewild harlotry it is. See here she cometh from Confession, How now my Headstrong, where have you been gadding? Where I have learned to repent the sin Of froward wilful opposition 'Gainst you and your behests, and am enjoined By holy Laurence to fall prostrate here, And crave remission of so foul a fact. Why that's well said. Now before God this holy reverent Friar All our whole City is much bound unto. Go tell the County presently of this, For I will have this knot knit up to morrow.
Other edition — placed after the fit, excluded from the main statistics
Position
nodes 1459–1526 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 28 of 35 in this edition
Length
524 words · 691 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T15 — Friars and holy orders in plotcross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.908 (cosine to the topic centroid) · placed after the fit (approximate_predict), not counted in the topic statistics
Other seeds
seed 43: T19 · seed 44: T20 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Tell me not Frier that thou hearst of it, Vnlesse thou tell-me how we may preuent it. Giue me some sudden counsell: els behold Twixt my extreames and me, this bloodie Knife Shall play the Vmpeere, arbitrating that Which the Commission of thy yeares and arte Could to no issue of true honour bring. Speake not, be briefe: sor I desire to die, If what thou speakst, speake not of remedie. Stay Iuliet, I doo spie a kinde of hope, VVhich craues as desperate an execution, As that is desperate we would preuent. If rather than to marrie Countie Paris Thou hast the strength or will to slay thy selfe, Tis not vnlike that thou wilt vndertake A thing like death to chyde away this shame, That coapst with death it selfe to flye from blame. And if thou doost, Ile giue thee remedie. Oh bid me leape (rather than marrie Paris) From off the battlements of yonder tower: Or chaine me to some steepie mountaines top, VVhere roaring Beares and sauage Lions are: Or shut me nightly in a Charnell-house, VVith reekie shankes, and yeolow chaples sculls: Or lay me in tombe with one new dead: Things that to heare them namde haue made me tremble; And I will doo it without feae or doubt, To keep my selfe a faithfull vnstaind VVife To my deere Lord, my deerest Romeo. Hold Iuliet, hie thee home, get thee to bed, Let not thy Nurse lye with thee in thy Chamber: And when thou art alone, take thou this Violl, And this distilled Liquor drinke thou off: VVhen presently through all thy veynes shall run A dull and heauie slumber, which shall seaze Each vitall spirit: for no Pulse shall keepe His naturall progresse, but surcease to beate: No signe of breath shall testifie thou list. And in this borrowed likenes of shrunke death, Thou shalt remaine full two and fortie houres. And when thou art laid in thy Kindreds Vault, He send in hast to Mantua to thy Lord, And he shall come and take thee from thy graue. Frier I goe, be sure thou send for my deare Romeo. Where are you sirra? Heere forsooth. Goe, prouide me twentie cunning Cookes. I warrant you Sir, let me alone for that, Ile knowe them by liking their fingers. How canst thou know them so? Ah Sir, tis an ill Cooke cannot licke his owne fingers. Well get you gone. But wheres this Head-strong? Shees gone (my Lord) to Frier Laurence Cell To be confest. Ah, he may hap to doo some good of her, A headrong selfewild harlotrie it is. See here she commeth from Confession, How now my Head-strong, where haue you bin gadding? Where I haue learned to repent the sin Of froward wilfull opposition Gainst you and your behests, and am enioynd By holy Laurence to fall prostrate here, And craue remission of so oule a fact. Why thats well said. Now before God this holy reuerent Frier All our whole Citie is much bound vnto. Goe tell the Countie presently of this, For I will haue this knot knit vp to morrow.