Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1596 [1594-1596] (Annals) tragedy · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men T33 Fathers, daughters and marriage negotiat typicality 0.83 · 509 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T33: daughter, marriage, father, love, davus, matter, son, chremes, wife, mother.
Is there no pity sitting in the Clouds, That sees into the bottom of my grief? O sweet my Mother cast me not away, Delay this marriage, for a month, a week, Or if you do not, make the Bridal bed In that dim Monument where Tybalt lies. Talk not to me, for I'll not speak a word, Do as thou wilt, for I have done with thee. O God! O Nurse, how shall this be prevented? My Husband is on earth, my faith in heaven, How shall that faith return again to earth, Unless that Husband send it me from heaven, By leaving earth? Comfort me, counsel me: Alacke, alack, that heaven should practise stratagems Upon so soft a subject as myself. What sayst thou? hast thou not a word of joy? Some comfort Nurse. Faith here it is, Romeo is banished, and all the world to nothing, That he dares ne'er come back to challenge you: Or if he do, it needs must be by stealth. Then since the case so stands as now it doth, I think it best you married with the County, O he's a Lovely Gentleman: Romeos a dishclout to him: an Eagle Madam Hath not so green, so quick, so fair an eye As Paris hath, beshrew my very heart, I think you are happy in this second match, For it excels your first: or if it did not, Your first is dead, or 'twere as good he were, As living here and you no use of him. Speakest thou from thy heart? And from my soul too, Or else beshrew them both. Amen. What? Well, thou hast comforted me marue'lous much, Go in, and tell my Lady I am gone, Having displeased my Father, to Laurence Cell, To make confession, and to be absolved. Marry I will, and this is wisely done. Ancient damnation, O most wicked fiend! It is more sin to wish me thus forsworn, Or to dispraise my Lord with that same tongue Which she hath praised him with above compare, So many thousand times? Go Counsellor, Thou and my bosom henchforth shall be twain: I'll to the Friar to know his remedy, If all else fail, myself have power to die. On Thursday sir? the time is very short. My Father Capulet will have it so, And I am nothing slow to slack his haste. You say you do not know the Lady's mind? Vneven is the course, I like it not. Immoderately she weeps for Tybalis death, And therefore have I little talk of Love, For Venus smiles not in a house of tears. Now sir, her Father counts it dangerous That she doth give her sorrow so much sway: And in his wisdom, hasts our marriage, To stop the inundation of her tears, Which too much minded by herself alone, May be put from her by society. Now do you know the reason of this haste? I would I knew not why it should be flowed. Look sir, here comes the Lady towards my Cell.
seed 43: T6 · seed 44: T7 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Is there no pittie ſitting in the Cloudes, That ſees into the bottome of my griefe? O ſweet my Mother caſt me not away, Delay this marriage, for a month, a weeke, Or if you do not, make the Bridall bed In that dim Monument where Tybalt lies. Talke not to me, for Ile not ſpeake a word, Do as thou wilt, for I haue done with thee. O God! O Nurſe, how ſhall this be preuented? My Husband is on earth, my faith in heauen, How ſhall that faith returne againe to earth, Vnleſſe that Husband ſend it me from heauen, By leauing earth? Comfort me, counſaile me: Hlacke, alacke▪ that heauen ſhould practiſe ſtratagems Vpon ſo ſoft a ſubiect as my ſelfe. What ſaiſt thou? haſt thou not a word of ioy? Some comfort Nurſe. Faith here it is, Romeo is baniſhed, and all the world to nothing, That he dares nere come backe to challenge you: Or if he do, it needs muſt be by ſtealth. Then ſince the caſe ſo ſtands as now it doth, I thinke it beſt you married with the Countie, O hee's a Louely Gentleman: Romeos a diſh-clout to him: an Eagle Madam Hath not ſo greene, ſo quicke, ſo faire an eye As Paris hath, beſhrow my very heart, I thinke you are happy in this ſecond match, For it excels your firſt: or if it did not, Your firſt is dead, or 'twere as good he were, As liuing here and you no vſe of him. Speakeſt thou from thy heart? And from my ſoule too, Or elſe beſhrew them both. Amen. What? Well, thou haſt comforted me marue'lous much, Go in, and tell my Lady I am gone, Hauing diſpleaſ'd my Father, to Lawrence Cell, To make confeſſion, and to be abſolu'd. Marrie I will, and this is wiſely done. Auncient damnation, O moſt wicked fiend! It is more ſin to wiſh me thus forſworne, Or to diſpraiſe my Lord with that ſame tongue Which ſhe hath praiſ'd him with aboue compare, So many thouſand times? Go Counſellor, Thou and my boſome henchforth ſhall be twaine: Ile to the Frier to know his remedie, If all elſe faile, my ſelfe haue power to die. On Thurſday ſir? the time is very ſhort. My Father Capulet will haue it ſo, And I am nothing ſlow to ſlack his haſt. You ſay you do not know the Ladies mind? Vneuen is the courſe, I like it not. Immoderately ſhe weepes for Tybalis death, And therfore haue I little talke of Loue, For Venus ſmiles not in a houſe of teares. Now ſir, her Father counts it dangerous That ſhe doth giue her ſorrow ſo much ſway: And in his wiſedome, haſts our marriage, To ſtop the inundation of her teares, Which too much minded by her ſelfe alone, May be put from her by ſocietie. Now doe you know the reaſon of this haſt? I would I knew not why it ſhould be ſlow'd. Looke ſir, here comes the Lady towards my Cell.