Shakespeare, William · published 1598 · first performed or written 1597 [c.1596-1597] (Annals) history · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men unassigned nearest T42 English historical figures: a mixed clus · 485 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T42: harry, percy, lord, king, god, falstalffe, frances, mowbray, life, mortimer.
Of sallies, and retires of trenches tents, Of pailsadoes, frontiers, parapets, Of basilisks, of canon, culverin, Of prisoner's ransom, and of soldiers slain, And all the currents of a heady fight. Thy spirit within thee hath been so at war, And thus hath so bestirred thee in thy sleeepe, That beads of sweat have stood upon thy brow Like bubbles in a late disturbed stream And in thy face strange motions have appeared, Such as we see when men restrain their breath, On some great sudden hest. O what portents are these? Some heavy business hath my Lord in hand, And I must know it else he loves me not. What ho, is Gilliams with the packet gone? He is my Lord, an hour ago. Hath Butler brought those horses from the Sheriff? One horse my Lord he brought even now. What horse Roan? a cropeate is it not? It is my Lord. That roane shall be my throne. Well, I will back him strait: O Esperance, bid Butler lead him forth into the park. But hear you my Lord. What sayst thou my Lady? What is it carries you away? Why, my horse (my love) my horse. Out you madhedded ape, a weazel hath not such a deal of spleen as you are tossed with. In faith i'll know your business Harry that I will, I fear my brother Mortimer doth stir about his title, and hath sent for you to line his enterprise, but if you go. So far a foot I shall be weary love. Come, come you Parakeet, answer me directly unto this question that I ask, in faith i'll break thy little finger Harry and if thou wilt not tell me all things true. Away, away you trifler, love, I love thee not, I care not for thee Kate, this is no world To play with mammets, and to tilt with lips, We must have bloody noses, and cracked crowns. And pass them currant too: gods me my horse: What sayst thou Kate? what wouldst thou have with me? Do you not love me? do you not indeed? Well, do not then, for since you love me not I will not love myself. Do you not love me? Nay tell me if you speak in jest or no? Come, wilt thou see me ride? And when I am a horseback I will swear I love thee infinitely. But hark you Kate, I must not have you henceforth question me Wither I go, nor reason where about, Wither I must, I must, and to conclude This evening must I leave you gentle Kate, I know you wise, but yet no farther wise Than Harry Percies wife, constant you are, But yet a woman, and for secrecy No Lady closer, for I well believe Thou wilt not utter what thou dost not know, And so far will I trust thee gentle Kate.
seed 43: T43 · seed 44: T38 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Of sallies, and retyres of trenches tents, Of palizadoes, frontiers, parapets, Of basilisks, of canon, culuerin, Of prisoners ransome, and of soldiors slaine, And all the currents of a heddy figh ▪ Thy spirit within thee hath bin so at war, And thus hath so bestird thee in thy sleeepe, That beads of sweat haue stood vpon thy brow Like bubbles in a late disturbed streame And in thy face strange motions haue appeard, Such as we see when men restraine their breath, On some great suddain hest. O what portents are these? Some heauy businesse hath my Lord in hand, And I must know it else he loues me not. What ho, is Gilliams with the packet gone? He is my Lord, an houre ago. Hath Butler brought those horses from the Sherfe One horse my Lord he brought euen now. What horse Roane? a cropeate is it not? It is my Lord. That roane shall be my throne. Wel, I will backe him straight: O Esperance, bid Butler lead him forth into the parke. But heare you my Lord. What saist thou my Lady? What is it carries you away? Why, my horse (my loue) my horse. Out you madhedded ape, a weazel hath not such a deale of spleene as you are tost with. In faith ile knowe your businesse Harry that I will, I feare my brother Mortimer doth stir about his title, and hath sent for you to line his enterprise, but if you go. So far a foot I shal be weary loue. Come, come you Paraquito, answere me directly vnto this question that I aske, in faith ile breake thy little finger Harry and if thou wilt not tel me all things true. Away, away you trifler, loue, I loue thee not, I care not for thee Kate, this is no world To play with mammets, and to tilt with lips, We must haue bloudy noses, and crackt crownes. And passe them currant too: gods me my horse: What saist thou Kate? what wouldst thou haue with me? Do you not loue me? do you not indeed? Wel, do not then, for since you loue me not I will not loue my selfe. Do you not loue me? Nay tel me if you speake in iest or no? Come, wilt thou see me ride? And when I am a horsebacke I will sweare I loue thee infinitely. But harke you Kate, I must not haue you henceforth question me Whither I go, nor reason where about, Whither I must, I must, and to conclude This euening must I leaue you gentle Kate, I know you wise, but yet no farther wise Then Harry Percies wife, constant you are, But yet a woman, and for secrecy No Lady closer, for I well beleeue Thou wilt not vtter what thou dost not know, And so far wil I trust thee gentle Kate.