Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1596 [1594-1596] (Annals) tragedy · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men unassigned nearest T4 Love-longing and the lover's complaint · 507 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T4: love, heart, sweet, loves, fair, phillis, eyes, beauty, amyntas, lovers.
The clock struck nine, when I did send the Nurse, In half an hour she promised to return, Perchance she cannot meet him: that's not so: Oh she is lame, Love's Herald should be thoughts, Which ten times faster glides than the Sun's beams, Driving back shadows over lowering hills. Therefore do nimble Pinioned Doves draw Love, And therefore hath the windswift Cupid wings: Now is the Sun upon the highmost hill Of this day's journey, and from nine till twelve, I three long hours, yet she is not come. Had she affections and warm youthful blood, She would be as swift in motion as a ball, My words would bandy her to my sweet Love, And his to me, but old folks, Many fain as they were dead, Vnwieldie, slow, heavy, and pale as lead. O God she comes, O honey Nurse what news? Hast thou met with him? send thy man away. Peter stay at the gate. Now good sweet Nurse: O Lord, why lookest thou sad? Though news, be sad, yet tell them merrily. If good thou sham'st the music of sweet news, By playing it to me, with so sour a face. I am a weary, give me leave awhile, Fie how my bones ache, what a jaunt have I had? I would thou hadst my bones, and I thy news: Nay come I pray thee speak, good good Nurse speak. Iesu what hast? can you not stay a while? Do you not see that I am out of breath? How art thou out of breath, when thou hast breath To say to me, that thou art out of breath? The excuse that thou dost make in this delay, Is longer than the tale thou dost excuse. Is thy news good or bad? answer to that, Say either, and I'll stay the circustance: Let me be satisfied, is't good or bad? Well, you have made a simple choice, you know not how to choose a man: Romeo, no not he though his face be better than any man's, yet his legs excels all men's, and for a hand, and a foot, and a body, though they be not to be talked on, yet they are past compare: he is not the flower of courtesy, but I'll warrant him as gentle a Lamb: go thy ways wench, serve God. What have you dined at home? No no: but all this this did I know before What says he of our marriage? what of that? Lord how my head aches, what a head have I? It beats as it would fall in twenty pieces. My back at other side: o my back, my back: Beshrew your heart for sending me about To catch my death with jaunting up and down. I'faith: I am sorry that that thou art so well. Sweet sweet, sweet Nurse, tell me what says my Love? Your Love says like an honest Gentleman, And a courteous, and a kind, and a handsome, And I warrant a virtuous: where is your Mother?
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)
The clocke ſtrook nine, when I did ſend the Nurſe, In halfe an houre ſhe promiſed to returne, Perchance ſhe cannot meete him: that's not ſo: Oh ſhe is lame, Loues Herauld ſhould be thoughts, Which ten times faſter glides then the Sunnes beames, Driuing backe ſhadowes ouer lowring hils. Therefore do nimble Pinion'd Doues draw Loue, And therefore hath the wind-ſwift Cupid wings: Now is the Sun vpon the highmoſt hill Of this daies iourney, and from nine till twelue, I three long houres, yet ſhe is not come. Had ſhe affections and warme youthfull blood, She would be as ſwift in motion as a ball, My words would bandy her to my ſweete Loue, And his to me, but old folkes, Many faine as they were dead, Vnwieldie, ſlow, heauy, and pale as lead. O God ſhe comes, O hony Nurſe what newes? Haſt thou met with him? ſend thy man away. Peter ſtay at the gate. Now good ſweet Nurſe: O Lord, why lookeſt thou ſad? Though newes, be ſad, yet tell them merrily. If good thou ſham'ſt the muſicke of ſweet newes, By playing it to me, with ſo ſower a face. I am a weary, giue me leaue awhile, Fie how my bones ake, what a iaunt haue I had? I would thou had'ſt my bones, and I thy newes: Nay come I pray thee ſpeake, good good Nurſe ſpeake. Ieſu what haſt? can you not ſtay a while? Do you not ſee that I am out of breath? How art thou out of breath, when thou haſt breth To ſay to me, that thou art out of breath? The excuſe that thou doſt make in this delay, Is longer then the tale thou doſt excuſe. Is thy newes good or bad? anſwere to that, Say either, and Ile ſtay the circuſtance: Let me be ſatisfied, iſt good or bad? Well, you haue made a ſimple choice, you know not how to chuſe a man: Romeo, no not he though his face be better then any mans, yet his legs excels all mens, and for a hand, and a foote, and a body, though they be not to be talkt on, yet they are paſt compare: he is not the flower of curteſie, but Ile warrant him as gentle a Lambe: go thy waies wench, ſerue God. What haue you din'd at home? No no: but all this this did I know before What ſaies he of our marriage? what of that? Lord how my head akes, what a head haue I? It beates as it would fall in twenty peeces. My backe at other ſide: o my backe, my backe: Beſhrew your heart for ſending me about To catch my death with iaunting vp and downe. Ifaith: I am ſorrie that that thou art ſo well. Sweet ſweet, ſweet Nurſe, tell me what ſaies my Loue? Your Loue ſaies like an honeſt Gentleman, And a courteous, and a kind, and a handſome, And I warrant a vertuous: where is your Mother?