Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1596 [1594-1596] (Annals) tragedy · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men unassigned nearest T28 Marriage-making: weddings, brides and ma · 495 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T28: married, marriage, wedding, day, bride, father, wife, luce, love, husband.
Lest in this marriage he should be dishonoured, Because he married me before to Romeo? I fear it is, and yet me thinks it should not, For he hath still been tried a holy man. How, if when I am laid into the Tomb, I wake before the time that Romeo Come to redeem me? There's a fearful point: Shall I not then be stifled in the Vault? To whose foul mouth no health some air breathes in, And there die strangled ere my Romeo comes. Or if I live, is it not very like, The horrible conceit of death and night, Together with the terror of the place, As in a Vault, an ancient receptacle, Where for these many hundred years the bones Of all my buried Ancestors are packed, Where bloody Tybalt, yet but green in earth, Lies festering in his shroud, where as they say, At some hours in the night, Spirits resort: Alack, alack, is it not like that I So early waking, what with loathsome smells, And shrieks like Mandrakes torn out of the earth, That living mortals hearing them, run mad. O if I walk, shall I not be distraught, Environed with all these hideous fears, And madly play with my forefather's joints? And pluck the mangled Tybalt from his shroud? And in this rage, with some great kinsman's bone, As (with a club) dash out my desperate brains. O look, me thinks I see my Cousins Ghost, Seeking out Romeo that did spit his body Upon my Rapier's point: stay Tybalt, stay; Romeo, Romeo, Romeo, here's drink: I drink to thee. Hold, Take these keys, and fetch more spices Nurse. They call for Dates and Quinces in the Pastry. Come, stir, stir, stir, The second Cock hath Crowed, The Curphew Bell hath rung, 'tis three a clocke: Look to the baked meats, good Angelica, Spare not for cost. Go you Cotquean, go, Get you to bed, faith you'll be sick to morrow For this nights watching. No not a whit: what? I have watched ere now All night for less cause, and ne'er been sick. I you have been a Mouse-hunt in your time, But I will watch you from such watching now. A jealous hood, a jealous hood, Now fellow, what there? Things for the Cook sir, but I know not what. Make haste, make haste, sirrah, fetch drier Logs. Call Peter, he will show thee where they are. I have a head sir, that will find out logs, And never trouble Peter for the matter. Mass and well said, a merry whoreson, ha', Thou shalt be loggerhead; good Father, 'tis day. The County will be here with Music strait, For so he said he would, I hear him near, Nurse, wife, what ho? what Nurse I say? Go waken Iuliet, go and trim her up, I'll go and chat with Paris: hie, make haste, Make haste, the Bridegroom, he is come already: Make hast I say.
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)
Leaſt in this marriage he ſhould be diſhonour'd, Becauſe he married me before to Romeo? I feare it is, and yet me thinkes it ſhould not, For he hath ſtill beene tried a holy man. How, if when I am laid into the Tombe, I wake before the time that Romeo Come to redeeme me? There's a fearefull point: Shall I not then be ſtifled in the Vault? To whoſe foule mouth no health ſome ayre breaths in, And there die ſtrangled ere my Romeo comes. Or if I liue, is it not very like, The horrible conceit of death and night, Together with the terror of the place, As in a Vaulte, an ancient receptacle, Where for theſe many hundred yeeres the bones Of all my buried Aunceſtors are packt, Where bloody Tybalt, yet but greene in earth, Lies feſtring in his ſhrow'd, where as they ſay, At ſome houres in the night, Spirits reſort: Alacke, alacke, is it not like that I So early waking, what with loathſome ſmels, And ſhrikes like Mandrakes torne out of the earth, That liuing mortalls hearing them, run mad. O if I walke, ſhall I not be diſtraught, Inuironed with all theſe hidious feares, And madly play with my forefathers ioynts? And plucke the mangled Tybalt from his ſhrow'd? And in this rage, with ſome great kinſmans bone, As (with a club) daſh out my deſperate braines. O looke, me thinks I ſee my Cozins Ghoſt, Seeking out Romeo that did ſpit his body Vpon my Rapiers point: ſtay Tybalt, ſtay; Romeo, Romeo, Romeo, here's drinke: I drinke to thee. Hold, Take theſe keies, and fetch more ſpices Nurſe. They call for Dates and Quinces in the Paſtrie. Come, ſtir, ſtir, ſtir, The ſecond Cocke hath Crow'd, The Curphew Bell hath rung, 'tis three a clocke: Looke to the bakte meates, good Angelica, Spare not for coſt. Go you Cot-queane, go, Get you to bed, faith youle be ſicke to morrow For this nights watching. No not a whit: what? I haue watcht ere now All night for leſſe cauſe, and nere beene ſicke. I you haue bin a Mouſe-hunt in your time, But I will watch you from ſuch watching now. A iealous hood, a iealous hood, Now fellow, what there? Things for the Cooke ſir, but I know not what. Make haſt, make haſt, ſirrah, fetch drier Logs. Call Peter, he will ſhew thee where they are. I haue a head ſir, that will find out logs, And neuer trouble Peter for the matter. Maſſe and well ſaid, a merrie horſon, ha, Thou ſhalt be loggerhead; good Father, 'tis day. The Countie will be here with Muſicke ſtraight, For ſo he ſaid he would, I heare him neere, Nurſe, wife, what ho? what Nurſe I ſay? Go waken Iuliet, go and trim her vp, Ile go and chat with Paris: hie, make haſt, Make haſt, the Bridegroome, he is come already: Make haſt I ſay.