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 · 508 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T4: love, heart, sweet, loves, fair, phillis, eyes, beauty, amyntas, lovers.
Gallop apace, you fiery footed fleedes, Towards Phoebus' lodging, such a Wagoner As Phaeton would whip you to the west, And bring in Cloudy night immediately. Spread thy close Curtain Love-performing night, That runaways eyes may wink and Romeo Leap to these arms, untalkt of and unseen, Lovers can see to do their Amorous rights, And by their own Beauties: or if Love be blind, It best agrees with night: come civil night, Thou sober suited Matron all in black, And learn me how to lose a winning match, Played for a pair of stainless Maidenhoods, Hood my unmanned blood baiting in my Cheeks, With thy Black mantle, till strange Love grow bold, Think true Love acted simple modesty: Come night, come Romeo, come thou day in night, For thou wilt lie upon the wings of night Whiter than new Snow upon a Raven's back: Come gentle night, come loving blackebrowed night. Give me my Romeo, and when I shall die, Take him and cut him out in little stars, And he will make the Face of heaven so fine, That all the world will be in Love with night, And pay no worship to the Garish Sun. O I have bought the Mansion of a Love, But not possessed it, and though I am sold, Not yet enjoyed, so tedious is this day, As is the night before some Festival, To an impatient child that hath new robes And may not wear them, O here comes my Nurse: And she brings news and every tongue that speaks But Romeos, name, speaks heavenly eloquence: Now Nurse, what news? what hast thou there? The Cords that Romeo bid thee fetch? I, I, the Cords. Ay me, what news? Why dost thou wring thy hands. A welady, he's dead, he's dead, We are undone Lady, we are undone. Alack the day, he's gone, he's killed, he's dead. Can heaven be so envious? Romeo can, Though heaven cannot. O Romeo, Romeo. Who ever would have thought it Romeo. What devil art thou, That dost torment me thus? This torture should be roared in dismal hell, Hath Romeo slain himself? say thou but I, And that bare vowel I shall poison more Than the death-darting eye of Cockatrice, I am not I, if there be such an I. Or those eyes shot, that makes thee answer I: If he be slain say I, or if not, no. Brief, sounds, determine of my weal or wo. I saw the wound, I saw it with mine eyes, God save the mark, here on his manly breast, A piteous Coarse, a bloody piteous Coarse: Pale, pale as ashes, all bedaubed in blood, All in gore blood, I sounded at the sight- O break my heart, Poor Bankrupt break at once, To prison eyes, ne'er look on liberty. Vile earth to earth resign, end motion here, And thou and Romeo press on heavy beer. O Tybalt, Tybalt, the best Friend I had: O courteous Tybalt honest Gentleman, That ever I should live to see thee dead.
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)
Gallop apace, you fiery footed fleedes, Towards Phaebus lodging, ſuch a Wagoner As Phaeton would whip you to the weſt, And bring in Cloudie night immediately. Spred thy cloſe Curtaine Loue-performing night, That run-awayes eyes may wincke and Romeo Leape to theſe armes, vntalkt of and vnſeene, Louers can ſee to doe their Amorous rights, And by their owne Beauties: or if Loue be blind, It beſt agrees with night: come ciuill night, Thou ſober ſuted Matron all in blacke, And learne me how to looſe a winning match, Plaid for a paire of ſtainleſſe Maidenhoods, Hood my vnman'd blood bayting in my Cheekes, With thy Blacke mantle, till ſtrange Loue grow bold, Thinke true Loue acted ſimple modeſtie: Come night, come Romeo, come thou day in night, For thou wilt lie vpon the wings of night Whiter then new Snow vpon a Rauens backe: Come gentle night, come louing blackebrow'd night. Giue me my Romeo, and when I ſhall die, Take him and cut him out in little ſtarres, And he will make the Face of heauen ſo fine, That all the world will be in Loue with night, And pay no worſhip to the Gariſh Sun. O I haue bought the Manſion of a Loue, But not poſſeſt it, and though I am ſold, Not yet enioy'd, ſo tedious is this day, As is the night before ſome Feſtiuall, To an impatient child that hath new robes And may not weare them, O here comes my Nurſe: And ſhe brings newes and euery tongue that ſpeaks But Romeos, name, ſpeakes heauenly eloquence: Now Nurſe, what newes? what haſt thou there? The Cords that Romeo bid thee fetch? I, I, the Cords. Ay me, what newes? Why doſt thou wring thy hands. A welady, hee's dead, hee's dead, We are vndone Lady, we are vndone. Alacke the day, hee's gone, hee's kil'd, he's dead. Can heauen be ſo enuious? Romeo can, Though heauen cannot. O Romeo, Romeo. Who euer would haue thought it Romeo. What diuell art thou, That doſt torment me thus? This torture ſhould be roar'd in diſmall hell, Hath Romeo ſlaine himſelfe? ſay thou but I, And that bare vowell I ſhall poyſon more Then the death-darting eye of Cockatrice, I am not I, if there be ſuch an I. Or thoſe eyes ſhot, that makes thee anſwere I: If he be ſlaine ſay I, or if not, no. Briefe, ſounds, determine of my weale or wo. I ſaw the wound, I ſaw it with mine eyes, God ſaue the marke, here on his manly breſt, A pitteous Coarſe, a bloody piteous Coarſe: Pale, pale as aſhes, all bedawb'd in blood, All in gore blood, I ſounded at the ſight- O breake my heart, Poore Banckrout breake at once, To priſon eyes, nere looke on libertie. Vile earth to earth reſigne, end motion here, And thou and Romeo preſſe on heauie beere. O Tybalt, Tybalt, the beſt Friend I had: O curteous Tybalt honeſt Gentleman, That euer I ſhould liue to ſee thee dead.