Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1597 [c.1596-1597] (Annals) history · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men T1 Death, grief and revenge typicality 0.77 · 499 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
For worms, brave Percy. Farewell great heart: Ill-weaued 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 were't sensible of courtesy, I should not make so great 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 Rites of Tenderness. Adieu, and take thy praise with thee to heaven, Thy ignomy sleep with thee in the grave, But not remembered in thy Epitaph. What? Old Acquaintance? Can 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: Embowelled will I see thee by and by, Till then, in blood, by Noble Percy lie. Embowelled? If thou embowel me to day, I'll give you leave to powder me, and eat me too to morrow. 'Twas time to counterfeit, or that hot Termagant Scot, had paid the scot and lot too, Counterfeit? I am no counterfeit; to dye, 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 and perfect image of life indeed. The better part of Valour, is Discretion; in the which better part, I have saved my life. I am afraid of this Gunpowder Percy though he be dead. How if he should counterfeit too, and rise? 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 as well as I: Nothing confutes me but eyes, and nobody sees me. Therefore sirrah, with a new wound in your thigh come you along me. Come Brother Iohn, full bravely hast thou fleshed thy Maiden sword. But soft, who 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 seem'st. No, that's certain: I am not a double man: but if I be not Iacke Falstaff, 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.
Other edition — placed after the fit, excluded from the main statistics
Position
nodes 2117–2151 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 47 of 48 in this edition
Length
499 words · 662 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T1 — Death, grief and revengecross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.768 (cosine to the topic centroid) · placed after the fit (approximate_predict), not counted in the topic statistics
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 Worme, braue Percy. Farewell great heart: Ill-weau'd Ambition, how much art thou ſhrunke? When that this bodie did containe a ſpirit, A Kingdome for it was too ſmall a bound: But now two paces of the vileſt Earth Is roome enough. This Earth that beares the dead, Beares not aliue ſo ſtout a Gentleman. If thou wer't ſenſible of curteſie, I ſhould not make ſo great a ſhew of Zeale. But let my fauours hide thy mangled face, And euen in thy behalfe, Ile thanke my ſelfe For doing theſe fayre Rites of Tenderneſſe. Adieu, and take thy praiſe with thee to heauen, Thy ignomy 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 ſpar'd a better man. O, I ſhould haue a heauy miſſe of thee, If I were much in loue with Vanity. Death hath not ſtrucke ſo fat a Deere to day, Though many dearer in this bloody Fray: Imbowell'd will I ſee thee by and by, Till then, in blood, by Noble Percie lye. Imbowell'd? If thou imbowell mee to day, Ile giue you leaue to powder me, and eat me too to morow. 'Twas time to counterfet, or that hotte Termagant Scot, had paid the ſcot and lot too, Counterfeit? I am no counterfeit; to dye, is to be a counterfeit, for hee is but the counterfeit of a man, who hath not the life of a man: But to counterfeit dying, when a man thereby liueth, is to be no counterfeit, but the true and perfect image of life indeede. The better part of Valour, is Diſcretion; in the which better part, I haue ſaued my life. I am affraide of this Gun-powder Percy though he be dead. How if hee ſhould counterfeit too, and riſe? I am afraid hee would proue the better counterfeit: therefore Ile make him ſure: yea, and Ile ſweare I kill'd him. Why may not hee riſe as well as I: Nothing confutes me but eyes, and no-bodie ſees me. Therefore ſirra, with a new wound in your thigh come you along me. Come Brother Iohn, full brauely haſt thou fleſht thy Maiden ſword. But ſoft, who 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 eye-ſight? I prethee ſpeake, we will not truſt our eyes Without our eares. Thou art not what thou ſeem'ſt. No, that's certaine: I am not a double man: but if I be not Iacke Falſtaffe, then am I a Iacke: There is Percy, if your Father will do me any Honor, ſo: if not, let him kill the next Percie himſelfe. I looke to be either Earle or Duke, I can aſſure you. Why, Percy I kill'd my ſelfe, and ſaw thee dead.