Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1596 [1594-1596] (Annals) tragedy · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men T15 Friars and holy orders in plot typicality 0.82 · 449 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T15: friar, lord, holy, friars, robin, peggy, lacie, angelo, love, nun.
Then fond Mad man, hear me speak. O thou wilt speak again of banishment. I'll give thee Armour to keep off that word, Adversities sweet milk, Philosophy, To comfort thee, though thou art banished. Yet banished? hang up Philosophy: Unless Philosohpie can make a Iuliet, Displant a Town, reverse a Prince's Doom, It helps not, it prevails not, talk no more. O than I see, that Mad men have no ears. How should they, When wisemen have no eyes? Let me despair with thee of thy estate, Thou canst not speak of that thou dost not feel, Wert thou as young as Iuliet my Love: An hour but married, Tybalt murdered, Doting like me, and like me banished, Then mightest thou speak, Then mightest thou tear thy hair, And fall upon the ground as I do now, Taking the measure of an unmade grave. Arise one knocks, Good Romeo hide thyself. Not I, Unless the breath of Hartsicke groans Mist-like enfold me from the search of eyes. Hark how they knock: (Who's there) Romeo arise, Thou wilt be taken, stay a while, stand up: Run to my study: by and by, God's will What simpleness is this: I come, I come. Who knocks so hard? Whence come you? what's your will? Let me come in, And you shall know my errand: I come from Lady Iuliet. Welcome then. O holy Friar, O tell me holy Friar, Where's my Lady's Lord? where's Romeo? There on the ground, With his own tears made drunk. O he is even in my Mistress case, Just in her case. O woeful sympathy: Piteous predicament, even so lies she, Blubbering and weeping, weeping and blubbering, Stand up, stand up, stand and you be a man, For juliets sake, for her sake rise and stand: Why should you fall into so deep an O. Nurse. Ah sir, ah sir, deaths the end of all. Speakest thou of Iuliet? how is it with her? Doth not she think me an old Murderer, Now I have stained the Childhood of our joy, With blood removed, but little from her own? Where is she? and how doth she? and what says My concealed Lady to our concealed Love? Oh she says nothing sir, but weeps and weeps, And now falls on her bed, and then starts up, And Tybalt calls, and then on Romeo cries, And then down falls again. As if that name shot from the dead level of a Gun, Did murder her, as that names cursed hand Murdered her kinsman. Oh tell me Friar, tell me, In what vile part of this Anatomy Doth my name lodge? Tell me, that I may sack The hateful Mansion.
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)
Then fond Mad man, heare me ſpeake. O thou wilt ſpeake againe of baniſhment. Ile giue thee Armour to keepe off that word, Aduerſities ſweete milke, Philoſophie, To comfort thee, though thou art baniſhed. Yet baniſhed? hang vp Philoſophie: Vnleſſe Philoſohpie can make a Iuliet, Diſplant a Towne, reuerſe a Princes Doome, It helpes not, it preuailes not, talke no more. O then I ſee, that Mad men haue no eares. How ſhould they, When wiſemen haue no eyes? Let me diſpaire with thee of thy eſtate, Thou can'ſt not ſpeake of that yu doſt not feele, Wert thou as young as Iuliet my Loue: An houre but married, Tybalt murdered, Doting like me, and like me baniſhed, Then mighteſt thou ſpeake, Then mighteſt thou teare thy hayre, And fall vpon the ground as I doe now, Taking the meaſure of an vnmade graue. Ariſe one knockes, Good Romeo hide thy ſelfe. Not I, Vnleſſe the breath of Hartſicke groanes Miſt-like infold me from the ſearch of eyes. Harke how they knocke: (Who's there) Romeo ariſe, Thou wilt be taken, ſtay a while, ſtand vp: Run to my ſtudy: by and by, Gods will What ſimpleneſſe is this: I come, I come. Who knocks ſo hard? Whence come you? what's your will? Let me come in, And you ſhall know my errand: I come from Lady Iuliet. Welcome then. O holy Frier, O tell me holy Frier, Where's my Ladies Lord? where's Romeo? There on the ground, With his owne teares made drunke. O he is euen in my Miſtreſſe caſe, Iuſt in her caſe. O wofull ſimpathy: Pittious predicament, euen ſo lies ſhe, Blubbring and weeping, weeping and blubbring, Stand vp, ſtand vp, ſtand and you be a man, For Iuliets ſake, for her ſake riſe and ſtand: Why ſhould you fall into ſo deepe an O. Nurſe. Ah ſir, ah ſir, deaths the end of all. Speak'ſt thou of Iuliet? how is it with her? Doth not ſhe thinke me an old Murtherer, Now I haue ſtain'd the Childhood of our ioy, With blood remoued, but little from her owne? Where is ſhe? and how doth ſhe? and what ſayes My conceal'd Lady to our conceal'd Loue? Oh ſhe ſayes nothing ſir, but weeps and weeps, And now fals on her bed, and then ſtarts vp, And Tybalt calls, and then on Romeo cries, And then downe falls againe. As if that name ſhot from the dead leuell of a Gun, Did murder her, as that names curſed hand Murdred her kinſman. Oh tell me Frier, tell me, In what vile part of this Anatomie Doth my name lodge? Tell me, that I may ſacke The hatefull Manſion.