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 0.87 · 518 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.
Such drugs I have I must of force confess, But yet the law is death to those that sell them. Art thou so bare and full of poverty▪ And dost thou fear to violate the Law? The Law is not thy friend, nor the laws friend, And therefore make no conscience of the law: Upon thy back hangs ragged misery, starved Famine dwelleth in thy cheeks. My poverty but not my will consents, I pay thy poverty, but not thy will. Hold take you this, and put it in any liquid thing you will, and it will serve had you the lives of twenty men. Hold, take this gold, worse poison to men's souls Than this which thou hast given me. Go high thee hence, Go buy the clothes, and get thee▪ into flesh. Come cordial and not poison, go with me To Iuliets Grave: for there must I use thee. What Friar Laurence, Brother, ho? This same should be the voice of Friar Iohn. What news from Mantua, what will Romeo come? Going to seek a barefoot Brother out, One of our order to associate me, Here in this City visiting the sick, Whereas the infectious pestilence remained: And being by the Searchers of the Town Found and examined, we were both shut up. Who bore my letters then to Romeo? I have them still, and here they are. Now by my holy Order, The letters were not nice, but of great weight. Go get thee hence, and get me presently. A spade and mattock. Well I will presently go fetch thee them. Now must I to the Monument alone, Lest that the Lady should before I come Be wakde from sleep. I will high To free her from that Tomb of misery. Put out the torch, and lie thee all along Under this Ew-tree, keeping thine ear close to the hollow ground. And if thou hear one tread within this Churchyard, Straight give me notice. I will my Lord. Sweet Flower, with flowers I strew thy Bridal bed: Sweet Tomb that in thy circuit dost contain, The perfect model of eternity: Fair Iuliet that with Angels dost remain, Accept this latest favour at my hands, That living honoured thee, and being dead With funeral praises do adorn thy Tomb. My Lord. The boy gives warning, something doth approach. What cursed foot wanders this was to night, To stay my obsequies and true loves rites? What with a torch, muffle me night a while. Give me this mattooke, and this wrenching Iron. And take these letters▪ early in the morning, See thou deliver them to my Lord and Father. So get thee gone and trouble me no more. Why I descend into this bed of death, Is partly to behold my ladys face. But chief to take from her dead finger, A precious ring which I must use In dear employment but if thou wilt stay, Further to pry in what I undertake, By heaven I'll tear thee joint by joint, And strew this hungry churchyard with thy limbs. The time and my intents are savage, wild.
Other edition — placed after the fit, excluded from the main statistics
Position
nodes 1707–1772 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 32 of 35 in this edition
Length
518 words · 650 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T15 — Friars and holy orders in plotcross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.871 (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)
Such drugs I haue I must of force confesse, But yet the law is death to those that sell them. Art thou so bare and full of pouertie▪ And doost thou feare to violate the Law? The Law is not thy frend, nor the Lawes frend, And therefore make no conscience of the law: Vpon thy backe hangs ragged Misrie, Ad staued Famine dwelleth in thy cheekes. My pouertie but not my will consents, I pay thy pouertie, but not thy will. Hold take you this, and put it in anie liquid thing you will, and it will serue had you the liues of twenty men. Hold, take this gold, worse poyson to mens soules Than this which thou hast giuen me. Goe hye thee hence, Goe buy the cloathes, and get thee▪ into flesh. Come cordiall and not poyson, goe with mee To Iuliets Graue: for there must I vse thee. VVhat Frier Laurence, Brother, ho? This same should be the voyce of Frier Iohn. VVhat newes from Mantua, what will Romeo come? Going to seeke a barefoote Brother out, One of our order to associate mee, Here in this Cittie visiting th sick, VVhereas the infectious pestilence remaind: And being by the Searchers of the Towne Found and examinde, we were both shut vp. VVho bare my letters then to Romeo? I haue them still, and here they are. Now by my holy Order, The letters were not nice, but of great weight. Goe get thee hence, and get me presently. A spade and mattocke. Well I will presently go fetch thee them. Now must I to the Monument alone, Least that the Ladie should before I come Be wakde from sleepe. I will hye To free her from that Tombe of miserie. Put out the torch, and lye thee all along Vnder this Ew-tree, keeping thine eare close to the hollow ground. And if thou heare one tread within this Churchyard, Staight giue me notice. I will my Lord. Sweete Flower, with flowers I strew thy Bridale bed: Sweete Tombe that in thy circuite dost containe, The perfect modell of eternitie: aire Iuliet that with Angells dost remaine, Accept this latest fauour at my hands, That liuing honourd thee, and being dead With funerall praises doo adorne thy Tombe. My Lord. The boy giues warning, something doth approach. What cursed foote wanders this was to night, To stay my obsequies and true loues rites? What with a torch, muffle me night a while. Giue mee this mattooke, and this wrtching Iron. And take these letters▪ early in the morning, See thou deliuer them to my Lord and Father. So get thee gone and trouble me o more. Why I descend into this bed of death, Is partly to behold my adies face. But chiefly to take from her dead finger, A precious ring which I must vse In deare imployment but if thou wilt stay, Further to prie in what I vndertake, By heauen Ile teare thee ioynt by ioynt, And strewe thys hungry churchyard with thy lims. The time and my inens are sauage, ilde.