Shakespeare, William · published 1600 · first performed or written 1597 [c.1597-1598] (Annals) history · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men T14 Royal love, favour and dynastic relation typicality 0.80 · 465 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T14: prince, princess, love, king, lord, queen, madam, grace, lady, life.
My lord. But since all is well, keep it so, wake not a sleeping wolf. To wake a wolf, is as bad as smell a fox. What you are as a candle, the better part, burnt out. A wassail candle my lord, all tallow, if I did say of wax, my growth would approve the truth. There is not a white hair in your face, but should have his effect of gravity. His effect of grauy, gravy, gravy. You follow the young prince up and down, like his ill angel. Not so my lord, your ill angel is light, but I hope he that looks upon me will take me without weighing, and yet in some respects I grant I cannot go. I cannot tell, virtue is of so little regard in these costermongers times, that true valour is turned herod, Pregnancy is made a Tapster, & his quick wit wasted in giving reckonings, all the other gifts appertinent to man, as the malice of his age shapes the one not worth a goosbery, you that are old consider not the capacities of us that are young, you do measure the heat of our livers with the bitterness of your galls, and we that are in the vaward of our youth, I must confess are wags too. Do you set down your name in the scroll of youth, that are written down▪ old with all the characters of age? have you not a moist eye, a dry hand, a yellow cheek, a white beard, a decreasing leg, an increasing belly? is not your voice broken, your wind short, your chin double, your wit single, and every part about you blasted with antiquity, and will you yet call yourself young? fie, fie, fie, sir Iohn. My Lord, I was borne about three of the clock in the afternoon, with a white head, and something a round belly, for my voice, I have lost it with hallowing, and singing of Anthems: to approve my youth further, I will not: the truth is, I am only old in judgement and understanding: and he that will caper with me for a thousand marks, let him lend me the money, and have at him for the box of the ●e●re that the Prince gave you, he gave it like a rude Prince, and you took it like a sensible Lord: I have checked him for it, and the young lion reputes, mary not in ashes and sackcloth, but in new silk, and old sack. Well, God send the prince a better companion. God send the companion a better prince, I cannot rid my hands of him. Well, the King hath severed you: I hear you are going with lord Iohn of Lancaster against the Archbishop and the Earl of Northumberland.
seed 43: T14 · seed 44: T9 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
My lord. But since all is well, keepe it so, wake not a sleeping wolfe. To wake a wolfe, is as bad as smell a fox. VVhat you are as a candle, the better part, burnt out. A wassel candle my lord, al tallow, if I did say of wax, my growth would approue the truth. There is not a white haire in your face, but should haue his effect of grauity. His effect of grauy, grauie, grauie. You ollow the yong prince vp and downe, like his ill angell. Not so my lord, your ill angell is light, but I hope he that lookes vpon me will take me without weighing, and yet in some respects I grant I cannot go. I cannot tell, vertue is of so little regard in these costar-mongers times, that true valour is turnd erod, Pregnancie is made a Tapster, & his quick wit wasted in giuing reckonings, all the other giftes appertinent to man, as the malice of his age shapes the one not worth a goosbery, you that are old consider not the capacities of vs that are yong, you doe measure the heate of our liuers with the bitternesse of your glles, and we that are in the vaward of our youth, I must confesse are wagges too. Do you set downe your name in the scroule of youth, that are written downe▪ old with all the characters of age? haue you not a moist eie, a dry hand, a yelow cheeke, a white beard, a decreasing leg, an increasing belly? is not your voice broken, your winde short, your chinne double, your wit single, and euery part about you blasted with antiquitie, and will you yet call your selfe yong? fie, fie, fie, sir Iohn. My Lorde, I was borne about three of the clocke in the afternoone, with a white head, and something a round bellie, for my voyce, I haue lost it with hallowing, and singing of Anthems: to approoue my youth further, I will not: the truth is, I am onely olde in iudgement and vnderstanding: and hee that wil caper with me for a thousand markes, let him lend me the money, and haue at him for the boxe of the ere that the Prince gaue you, he gaue it like a rude Prince, and you tooke it like a sensible Lord: I haue checkt him for it, and the yong lion repents, mary not in ashes and sackcloth, but in new silke, and olde sacke. Well, God send the prince a better companion. God send the companion a better prince, I cannot ridde my hands of him. Well, the King hath seuerd you: I heare you are going with lord Iohn of Lancaster against the Archbishop and the Earle of Northumberland.