Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1596 [1594-1596] (Annals) tragedy · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men unassigned nearest T41 Household service: masters, doors and po · 520 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T41: master, house, door, iohn, old, mistress, basket, lord, gentleman, ick.
And too soon marred are those so early made: Earth hath swallowed all my hopes but she, she's the hopeful Lady of my earth: But woo her gentle Paris, get her heart, My will to her consent, is but a part, And she agree, within her scope of choice, Lies my consent, and fair according voice: This night I hold an old accustomed Feast, Whereto I have invited many a Guest, Such as I love, and you among the store, One more, most welcome makes my number more: At my poor house, look to behold this night, Earth-treading stars, that make dark heaven light, Such comfort as do lusty young men feel, When well apparelled April on the heel Of limping Winter treads, even such delight Among fresh Fennell buds shall you this night Inherit at my house: hear all, all see: And like her most, whose merit most shall be: Which one more view, of many, mine being one, May stand in number, though in reckoning none. Come, go with me: go sirrah trudge about, Through fair Verona, find those persons out, Whose names are written there, and to them say, My house and welcome, on their pleasure stay. Find them out whose names are written. here it is written, that the Shoemaker should meddle with his Yard, and the Tailor with his Last, the Fisher with his Pencil, and the Painter with his Nets. But I am sent to find those persons whose names are writ, & can never find what names the writing person hath here writ (I must to the learned) in good time. Tut man, one fire burns out another's burning, One pain is lessened by another's anguish: Turn giddy, and be holp by backward turning: One desperate grief, cures with another's languish: Take thou some new infection to the eye, And the rank poison of the old will die. Your Plantain leaf is excellent for that. For what I pray thee? For your broken shin. Why Romeo art thou mad? Not mad, but bound more than a mad man is: Shut up in prison, kept without my food, Whipped and tormented: and God-den good fellow, Godgigoden, I pray sir can you read? I mine own fortune in my misery. Perhaps you have learned it without book: But I pray can you read any thing you see? I, if I know the Letters and the Language. Ye say honestly, rest you merry. Stay fellow, I can read. A fair assembly, whither should they come? Vp. Whither? to supper? To our house. Whose house? My Masters. Indeed I should have asked you that before. Now I'll tell you without ask. My master is the great rich Capulet, and if you be not of the house of Mountagues I pray come and crush a cup of wine. Rest you merry. At this same ancient Feast of Capulets Sups the fair Rosaline, whom thou so loves: With all the admired Beauties of Verona, Go thither and with unattainted eye, Compare her face with some that I shall show, And I will make thee think thy Swan a Crow.
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)
And too ſoone mar'd are thoſe ſo early made: Earth hath ſwallowed all my hopes but ſhe, Shee's the hopefull Lady of my earth: But wooe her gentle Paris, get her heart, My will to her conſent, is but a part, And ſhee agree, within her ſcope of choiſe, Lyes my conſent, and faire according voice: This night I hold an old accuſtom'd Feaſt, Whereto I haue inuited many a Gueſt, Such as I loue, and you among the ſtore, One more, moſt welcome makes my number more: At my poore houſe, looke to behold this night, Earth-treading ſtarres, that make darke heauen light, Such comfort as do luſty young men feele, When well apparrel'd Aprill on the heele Of limping Winter treads, euen ſuch delight Among freſh Fennell buds ſhall you this night Inherit at my houſe: heare all, all ſee: And like her moſt, whoſe merit moſt ſhall be: Which one more veiw, of many, mine being one, May ſtand in number, though in reckning none. Come, goe with me: goe ſirrah trudge about, Through faire Verona, find thoſe perſons out, Whoſe names are written there, and to them ſay, My houſe and welcome, on their pleaſure ſtay. Find them out whoſe names are written. Heere it is written, that the Shoo-maker ſhould meddle with his Yard, and the Tayler with his Laſt, the Fiſher with his Penſill, and the Painter with his Nets. But I am ſent to find thoſe perſons whoſe names are writ, & can neuer find what names the writing perſon hath here writ (I muſt to the learned) in good time. Tut man, one fire burnes out anothers burning, One paie is leſned by anothers anguiſh: Turne giddie, and be holpe by backward turning: One deſparate greefe, cures with anothers languiſh: Take thou ſome new infection to the eye, And the rank poyſon of the old wil die. Your Plantan leafe is excellent for that. For what I pray thee? For your broken ſhin. Why Romeo art thou mad? Not mad, but bound more then a mad man is: Shut vp in priſon, kept without my foode, Whipt and tormented: and Godden good fellow, Godgigoden, I pray ſir can you read? I mine owne fortune in my miſerie. Perhaps you haue learn'd it without booke: But I pray can you read any thing you ſee? I, if I know the Letters and the Language. Ye ſay honeſtly, reſt you merry. Stay fellow, I can read. A faire aſſembly, whither ſhould they come? Vp. Whither? to ſupper? To our houſe. Whoſe houſe? My Maiſters. Indeed I ſhould haue askt you that before. Now Ile tell you without asking. My maiſter is the great rich Capulet, and if you be not of the houſe of Mountagues I pray come and cruſh a cup of wine. Reſt you merry. At this ſame auncient Feaſt of Capulets Sups the faire Roſaline, whom thou ſo loues: With all the admired Beauties of Verona, Go thither and with vnattainted eye, Compare her face with ſome that I ſhall ſhow, And I will make thee thinke thy Swan a Crow.