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 0.83 · 486 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T15: friar, lord, holy, friars, robin, peggy, lacie, angelo, love, nun.
It doth so holy sir, And there's my Master, one that you love. Who is it? Romeo. How long hath he been there? Full half an hour. Go with me to the Vault. I dare not Sir. My Master knows not but I am gone hence, And fearfully did menace me with death, If I did stay to look on his intents. Stay, then I'll go alone, fears comes upon me. O much I fear some ill unlucky thing. As I did sleep under this young tree here, I dreamt my master and another fought, And that my Master slew him. Romeo. Alack, alack, what blood is this which stains The stony entrance of this Sepulchre? What mean these Masterless, and gory Swords To lie discoloured by this place of peace? Romeo, oh pale: who else? what Paris too? And steeped in blood? Ah what an vnknd hour Is guilty of this lamentable chance? The Lady stirs. O comfortable Friar, where's my Lord? I do remember well where I should be: And there I am, where is my Romeo? I hear some noise Lady, come from that nest Of death, contagion, and unnatural sleep, A greater power than we can contradict Hath thwarted our intents, come, come away, Thy husband in thy bosom there lies dead: And Paris too: come I'll dispose of thee, Among a Sisterhood of holy Nuns: Stay not to question, for the watch is coming. Come, go good Iuliet, I dare no longer stay. Go get thee hence, for I will notuaway, What's here? A cup closed in my true loues hand? Poison I see hath been his timeless end O churl, drink all? and lest no friendly drop, To help me after, I will kiss thy lips, Happlie some poison yet doth hang on them, To make me die with a restorative. Thy lips are warm. Led Boy, which way? Yea noise? Then I'll be brief. O happy Dagger. 'Tis in thy sheath, there rust and let me die. This is the place, There where the Torch doth burn The ground is bloody, Search about the Churchyard. Go some of you, who ere you find attach. Pitiful sight, here lies the County slain, And Juliet bleeding, warm and newly dead Who here hath lain these two days buried. Go tell the Prince, run to the Capulets, Raise up the Mountagues, some others search, We see the ground whereon these woes do lie, But the true ground of all these piteous woes, We cannot without circumstance descry. Here's Romeo'r man, We found him in the Churchyard. Hold him in safety, till the Prince come hither. Here is a Friar that trembles, sighs, and weeps We took this Mattocke and this Spade from him, As he was coming from this Churchyard side. A great suspicion, stay the Friar too. What misadventure is so early up, That calls our person from our morning's rest?
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)
It doth ſo holy ſir, And there's my Maſter, one that you loue. Who is it? Romeo. How long hath he bin there? Full halfe an houre. Go with me to the Vault. I dare not Sir. My Maſter knowes not but I am gone hence, And fearefully did menace me with death, If I did ſtay to looke on his entents. Stay, then Ile go alone, feares comes vpon me. O much I feare ſome ill vnluckie thing. As I did ſleepe vnder this young tree here, I dreamt my maiſter and another fought, And that my Maiſter ſlew him. Romeo. Alacke, alacke, what blood is this which ſtaines The ſtony entrance of this Sepulcher? What meane theſe Maſterleſſe, and goarie Swords To lie diſcolour'd by this place of peace? Romeo, oh pale: who elſe? what Paris too? And ſteept in blood? Ah what an vnknd houre Is guiltie of this lamentable chance? The Lady ſtirs. O comfortable Frier, where's my Lord? I do remember well where I ſhould be: And there I am, where is my Romeo? I heare ſome noyſe Lady, come from that neſt Of death, contagion, and vnnaturall ſleepe, A greater power then we can contradict Hath thwarted our entents, come, come away, Thy husband in thy boſome there lies dead: And Paris too: come Ile diſpoſe of thee, Among a Siſterhood of holy Nunnes: Stay not to queſtion, for the watch is comming. Come, go good Iuliet, I dare no longer ſtay. Go get thee hence, for I will notuaway, What's here? A cup clos'd in my true loes hand? Poyſon I ſee hath bin his timeleſſe end O churle, drinke all? and leſt no friendly drop, To helpe me after, I will kiſſe thy lips, Happlie ſome poyſon yet doth hang on them, To make me die wth a reſtoratiue. Thy lips are warme. Lead Boy, which way? Yea noiſe? Then Ile be briefe. O happy Dagger. 'Tis in thy ſheath, there ruſt and let me die. This is the place, There where the Torch doth burne The ground is bloody, Search about the Churchyard. Go ſome of you, who ere you find attach▪ Pittifull ſight, here lies the Countie ſlaine, And Iuliet bleeding, warme and newly dead Who here hath laine theſe two dayes buried. Go tell the Prince, runne to the Capulets, Raiſe vp the Mountagues, ſome others ſearch, We ſee the ground whereon theſe woes do lye, But the true ground of all theſe piteous woes, We cannot without circumſtance deſcry. Here's Romeo'r man, We found him in the Churchyard. Hold him in ſafety, till the Prince come hither. Here is a Frier that trembles, ſighes, and weepes We tooke this Mattocke and this Spade from him, As he was comming from this Church-yard ſide. A great ſuſpition, ſtay the Frier too. What miſaduenture is ſo earely vp, That calls our perſon from our mornings reſt?