Shakespeare, William · published 1598 · first performed or written c.1595 (Annals) comedy · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men · before the Court T7 The Trojan war: conflict and its afterma typicality 0.72 · 495 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T7: hector, troy, achilles, greeks, aeneas, priam, ulysses, troilus, trojan, trojans.
This cannot be Hector. he's a God or a Painter: for he makes faces. The Armipotent Mars, of Lances the almighty, gave Hector a gift. A gift Nutmegg. A lemon. Stuck with Cloves. No cloven. Peace. The Armipotent Mars, of Lances the almighty, Gave Hector a gift, the heir of Illium, A man so breathed, that certain he would fight; yea, From morn till night out of his Pavilion. I am that Flower. That Mint. That Cullambine. Sweet Lord Longavill rain thy tongue. I must rather give it the rain: for it runs against Hector. I and Hector's a Greyhound. The sweet Warman is dead and rotten, Sweet chucks beat not the bones of the buried: When he breathed he was a man: But I will forward with my device; sweet royalty bestow on me the sense of hearing. Speak brave Hector, we are much delighted. I do adore thy sweet Grace's Slipper. loves her by the foot. He may not by the yard. This Hector far surmounted Hannibal, Fellow Hector, she is gone; she is two months on her way. What meanest thou? Faith unless you play the honest Trojan, the poor wench is cast away: she's quick, the child brags in her belly already: 'tis yours. Dost thou infamonize me among potentates: Thou shalt die. Then shall Hector be whipped for Iaquenetta that is quick by him, and hanged for Pompey that is dead by him. Most rare Pompey. Renowned Pompey. Greater than great, great, great, great Pompey: Pompey the huge. Hector trembles. Pompey is moved more Ate's more Atees stir them or stir them on. Hector will challenge him. I, if a'haue no more man's blood in his belly then w sup a Flea. By the North Pole I do challenge thee. I will not fight with a Pole like a Northern man; I'll slash, I'll do it by the Sword: I bepray you let me borrow my Arms again. Room for the incensed Worthies. I'll do it in my shirt. Most resolute Pompey. Master, let me take you a button hole lower. Do you not see, Pompey is uncasing for the Combat: What mean you? you will lose your reputation. Gentlemen and Soldiers, pardon me, I will not combat in my shirt. You may not deny it, Pompey hath made the challenge. Sweet bloods, I both may and will. What reason have you for't. The naked truth of it is, I have no Shirt. I go Woolward for penance. True, and it was enjoined him in Rome for want of Linen: since when, I'll be sworn he wore none, but a dish-cloute of Jaquenetta●s, and that a wears next his heart for a Favour. God save you Madam. Welcome Mercade, but that thou interrupptest our merriment. I am sorry Madam for the news I bring is heavy in my tongue. The King your father Dead for my life. Even so: my tale is told. Worthies away, the Scene begins to cloud.
seed 43: T12 · seed 44: T11 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
This cannot be Hector. Hee's a God or a Painter: for he makes faces. The Armipotent Mars, of Launces the almightie, gaue Hector a gift. A gift Nutmegg. A Lemmon. Stucke with Cloues. No clouen. Peace. The Armipotent Mars, of Launces the almighty, Gaue Hector a gift, the heir of Illion, A man ſo breathed, that certaine he would fight; yea, From morne till night out of his Pauilion. I am that Flower. That Mint. That Cullambine. Sweete Lord Longauill raine thy tongue. I muſt rather giue it the raine: for it runnes againſt Hector. I and Hector's a Greyhound. The ſweete War-man is dead and rotten, Sweete chucks beat not the bones of the buried: When he breathed he was a man: But I will forward with my deuice; ſweete royaltie beſtow on me the ſence of hearing. Speake braue Hector, we are much delighted. I do adore thy ſweete Graces Slipper. Loues her by the foote. He may not by the yarde. This Hector far ſurmounted Hanniball, Fellow Hector, ſhe is gone; ſhe is two months on her way. What meaneſt thou? Faith vnleſſe you play the honeſt Troyan, the poore wench is caſt away: ſhee's quicke, the childe bragges in her bellie already: tis yours. Doſt thou infamonize me among potentates: Thou ſhalt die. Then ſhall Hector be whipt for Iaquenetta that is quicke by him, and hangd for Pompey that is dead by him. Moſt rare Pompey. Renowned Pompey. Greater then great, great, great, great Pompey: Pompey the hudge. Hector trembles. Pompey is mooued more Ates more Atees ſtir them or ſtir them on. Hector will challenge him. I, if a'haue no more mans blood in his belly then w ſuppe a Flea. By the North Pole I do challenge thee. I will not fight with a Pole like a Northren man; Ile ſlaſh, Ile do it by the Sword: I bepray you let me borrow my Armes againe. Roome for the incenſed Worthies. Ile do it in my ſhyrt. Moſt reſolute Pompey. Maiſter, let me take you a button hole lower. Do you not ſee, Pompey is vncaſing for the Combat: What meane you? you will looſe your reputation. Gentlemen and Souldiers, pardon me, I will not combat in my ſhyrt. You may not deny it, Pompey hath made the challenge. Sweete bloodes, I both may and will. What reaſon haue you fort. The naked trueth of it is, I haue no Shirt. I goe Woolward for pennance. True, and it was inioyned him in Rome for want of Linnen: ſince when, Ile be ſworne he wore none, but a diſhcloute of Jaquenettas, and that a weares next his hart for a Fauour. God ſaue you Madame. Welcome Marcade, but that thou interruppteſt our merriment. I am ſorrie Madame for the newes I bring is heauie in my tongue. The King your father Dead for my life. Euen ſo: my tale is tolde. Worthies away, the Scaene begins to cloude.