Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written c.1595 (Annals) comedy · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men unassigned nearest T53 The crown: kingship claimed, resigned an · 494 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T53: crown, king, state, life, lord, lords, live, queen, tullia, prince.
Now step I forth to whip hypocrisy. Ah good my Liege, I pray thee pardon me. Good heart, What grace hast thou thus to reprove These worms for loving, that art most in love? Your eyes do make no couches in your tears. There is no certain Princess that appears. You'll not be perjured, 'tis a hateful thing: Tush, none but Minstrels like of Sonnetting. But are you not ashamed? nay, are you not All three of you, to be thus much ore'shot? You found his Moth, the King your Moth did see: But I a Beam do find in each of three. O what a Scene of fool'ry have I seen. Of sighs, of groans, of sorrow, and of teen: O me, with what strict patience have I sat, To see a King transformed to a Gnat? To see great Hercules whipping a Gig, And profound Solomon tuning a jygge? And Nestor play at push-pin with the boys, And Critic Timon laugh at idle toys. Where lies thy grief? O tell me good Dumain; And gentle Longavill, where lies thy pain? And where my Liedges? all about the breast: A Candle hoa! Too bitter is thy jest. Are we betrayed thus to thy overview? Not you by me, but I betrayed to you. I that am honest, I that hold it sin To break the vow I am engaged in. I am betrayed by keeping company With men, like men of inconstancy. When shall you see me write a thing in rhyme? Or groan for Ioane? or spend a minute's time, In pruning me, when shall you hear that I will praise a hand, a foot, a face, an eye: a gate, a state, a brow, a breast, a waste, a leg, a limb. Soft, Whither away so fast? A true man, or a thief, that gallops so. I post from Love, good Lover let me go. God bless the King. What Present hast thou there? Some certain treason. What makes treason here? Nay it makes nothing sir. If it mar nothing neither, The treason and you go in peace away together. I beseech your Grace let this Letter be read, Our person mis-doubts it: it was treason he said. Berowne, read it over. Where hadst thou it? Of Costard. Where hadst thou it? Of Dun Adramadio, Dun Adramadio. How now, what is in you? why dost thou tear it? A toy my Liege, a toy: your grace needs not fear it. It did move him to passion, and therefore let's hear it. It is Berowns writing, and here is his name. Ah you whoreson loggerhead, you were borne to do me shame. Guilty my Lord, guilty: I confess, I confess. What? That you three fools, lacked me fool, to make up the mess. He, he, and you: and you my Liege, and I, Are pickepurses in Love, and we deserve to die. O dismiss this audience, and I shall tell you more.
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Now ſtep I forth to whip hypocriſie. Ah good my Liedge, I pray thee pardon me. Good heart, What grace haſt thou thus to reproue Theſe wormes for louing, that art moſt in loue? Your eyes doe make no couches in your teares. There is no certaine Princeſſe that appeares. You'll not be periur'd, 'tis a hatefull thing: Tuſh, none but Minſtrels like of Sonnetting. But are you not aſham'd? nay, are you not All three of you, to be thus much ore'ſhot? You found his Moth, the King your Moth did ſee: But I a Beame doe finde in each of three. O what a Scene of fool'ry haue I ſeene. Of ſighes, of grones, of ſorrow, and of teene: O me, with what ſtrict patience haue I ſat, To ſee a King transformed to a Gnat? To ſee great Hercules whipping a Gigge, And profound Salomon tuning a Iygge? And Neſtor play at puſh-pin with the boyes, And Critticke Tymon laugh at idle toyes. Where lies thy griefe? O tell me good Dumaine; And gentle Longauill, where lies thy paine? And where my Liedges? all about the breſt: A Candle hoa! Too bitter is thy ieſt. Are wee betrayed thus to thy ouer-view? Not you by me, but I betrayed to you. I that am honeſt, I that hold it ſinne To breake the vow I am ingaged in. I am betrayed by keeping company With men, like men of inconſtancie. When ſhall you ſee me write a thing in rime? Or grone for Ioane? or ſpend a minutes time, In pruning mee, when ſhall you heare that I will praiſe a hand, a foot, a face, an eye: a gate, a ſtate, a brow, a breſt, a waſte, a legge, a limme. Soft, Whither a-way ſo faſt? A true man, or a theefe, that gallops ſo. I poſt from Loue, good Louer let me go. God bleſſe the King. What Preſent haſt thou there? Some certaine treaſon. What makes treaſon heere? Nay it makes nothing ſir. If it marre nothing neither, The treaſon and you goe in peace away together. I beſeech your Grace let this Letter be read, Our perſon miſ-doubts it: it was treaſon he ſaid. Berowne, read it ouer. Where hadſt thou it? Of Coſtard. Where hadſt thou it? Of Dun Adramadio, Dun Adramadio. How now, what is in you? why doſt thou tear it? A toy my Liedge, a toy: your grace needes not feare it. It did moue him to paſſion, and therefore let's heare it. It is Berowns writing, and heere is his name. Ah you whoreſon loggerhead, you were borne to doe me ſhame. Guilty my Lord, guilty: I confeſſe, I confeſſe. What? That you three fooles, lackt mee foole, to make vp the meſſe. He, he, and you: and you my Liedge, and I, Are picke-purſes in Loue, and we deſerue to die. O diſmiſſe this audience, and I ſhall tell you more.