Shakespeare, William · published 1598 · first performed or written 1597 [c.1596-1597] (Annals) history · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men T1 Death, grief and revenge typicality 0.75 · 510 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
For worms, brave Percy. Far thee well great heart Ill woven ambition, how much art thou shrunk, When that this body did contain a spirit, A kingdom for it was too small a bound, But now two paces of the vilest earth Is room enough, this earth that bears the dead Bears not alive so stout a gentleman, If thou wert sensible of courtesy I should not make so dear a show of zeal, But let my favours hide thy mangled face, And even in thy behalf i'll thank myself, For doing these fair rights of tenderness, Adieu and take thy praise with thee to heaven, Thy ignominy sleep with thee in the grave, But not remembered in thy Epitaph. What old acquaintance, could not all this flesh Keep in a little life? poor Iacke farewell, I could have better spared a better man: O I should have a heavy miss of thee, If I were much in love with vanity: Death hath not struck so fat a Deer to day, Though many dearer in this bloody fray, Inboweld will I see thee by and by, Till then in blood by noble Percy lie. Inboweld, if thou inbowel me to day, i'll give you leave to powder me and eat me too to morrow. 'Zblood ttwas time to counterfeit, or that hot termagant Scot had paid me scot and lot too. Counterfeit? I lie, I am no counterfeit, to die is to be a counterfeit, for he is but the counterfeit of a man, who hath not the life of a man: but to counterfeit dying when a man thereby liveth, is to be no counterfeit, but the true & perfect image of life indeed. The better part of valour is discretion, in the which better part I have saved my life. Zounds I am afraid of this gunpowder Percy, though he be dead, how if he should counterfeit too and rise? by my faith I am afraid he would prove the better counterfeit, therefore i'll make him sure, yea, and i'll swear I killed him. Why may not he rise aswell as I? nothing confutes me but eyes, and no body sees me: therefore sirrah, with a new wound in your thigh, come you along with me. Come brother Iohn, full bravely hast thou fleshed Thy maiden sword. But soft, whom have we here? Did you not tell me this fat man was dead? I did, I saw him dead, Breathless and bleeding on the ground. Art thou alive? Or is it fantasy that plays upon our eyesight? I prithee speak, we will not trust our eyes Without our ears, thou art not what thou seemest. No that's certain, I am not a double man: but if I be not Iacke Falstalffe, then am I a Iacke: there is Percy, if your father will do me any honour, so: if not, let him kill the next Percy himself: I look to be either Earl or Duke, I can assure you. Why Percy, I killed myself, and saw thee dead.
nodes 2054–2089 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 48 of 49 in this edition
Length
510 words · 651 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T1 — Death, grief and revengecross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.746 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: T1 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
For wormes, braue Percy. Fare thee wel great hart Ill weaud ambition, how much art thou shrunke, When that this body did containe a spirit, A kingdom for it was too small a bound, But now two paces of the vilest earth Is roome inough, this earth that beares the dead Beares not aliue so stout a gentleman, If thou wert sensible of curtesie I should not make so deare a shew of zeale, But let my fauors hide thy mangled face, And euen in thy behalfe ile thanke my selfe, For doing these faire rights of tendernesse, Adiew and take thy praise with thee to heauen, Thy ignominy sleepe with thee in the graue, But not remembred in thy Epitaph. What old acquaintance, could not all this flesh Keepe in a little life? poore Iacke farewell, I could haue better sparde a better man: O I should haue a heauy misse of thee, If I were much in loue with vanitie: Death hath not strooke so fat a Deere to day, Though many dearer in this bloudy fray, Inboweld will I see thee by and by, Til then in bloud by noble Percy lie. Inboweld, if thou inbowel me to day, ile giue you leaue to powder me and eate me too to morrowe. Zbloud twas time to counterfet, or that hot termagant Scot had paide me scot and lot too. Counterfet? I lie, I am no counterfet, to die is to bee a counterfet, for he is but the counterfet of a man, who hath not the life of a mā: but to coūterfet dying when a man therby liueth, is to be no counterfet, but the true & perfect image of life indeed. The better parte of valour is discretion, in the which better part I haue saued my life. Zounds I am afraid of this gunpowder Percy, though he be dead, how if he should counterfet too and rise? by my faith I am afraid hee woulde proue the better counterfet, therefore ile make him sure, yea, and ile sweare I kild him. Why may not he rise aswell as I? nothing confutes me but eies, and no body sees me: therefore sirrha, with a new wound in your thigh, come you along with me. Come brother Iohn, full brauely hast thou flesht Thy mayden sword. But soft, whom haue we heere? Did you not tell me this fat man was dead? I did, I saw him dead, Breathlesse and bleeding on the ground. Art thou aliue? Or is it fantasie that playes vpon our eiesight? I preethe speake, we will not trust our eies Without our eares, thou art not what thou seemst. No thats certaine, I am not a double man: but if I bee not Iacke Falstalffe, then am I a Iacke: there is Percy, if your father will doe me anie honour, so: if not, let him kill the next Percie himselfe: I looke to bee either Earle or Duke, I can assure you. Why Percy, I kild my selfe, and saw thee dead.