Shakespeare, William · published 1600 · first performed or written 1596 [1594-1596] (Annals) comedy · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men unassigned nearest T33 Fathers, daughters and marriage negotiat · 473 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T33: daughter, marriage, father, love, davus, matter, son, chremes, wife, mother.
NOw fair Hippolita, our nuptial hour Draws on apace: four happy days bring in An other Moon: but oh, me thinks, how slow This old Moon waves! She lingers my desires, Like to a Stepdame, or a dowager, Long withering out a young man's revenue. Four days will quickly steep themselves in night: Four nights will quickly dream away the time: And then the Moon, like to a silver bow, Now bend in heaven, shall behold the night Of our solemnities. Go Philostrate, Stir up the Athenian youth to merriments, Awake the pert and nimble spirit of mirth, Turn melancholy forth to funerals: The pale companion is not for our pomp. Hyppolita, I wooed thee with my sword, And won thy love, doing thee injuries: But I will wed thee in another key, With pomp, with triumph, and with reveling. Happy be Theseus, our renowned duke. Thanks good Egeus. What's the news with thee? Full of vexation, come I, with complaint Against my child, my daughter Hermia. My noble Lord, This man hath my consent to marry her. And my gracious Duke, This man hath bewitched the bosom of my child. Thou, thou Lysander, thou hast given her rhymes, And interchanged love tokens with my child: Thou hast, by moonlight, at her window sung, With feigning voice, verses of feigning love, And stolen the impression of her fantasy: With bracelets of thy hair, rings, gauds, conceits, Knacks, trifles, nosegays, sweet meats (messengers Of strong prevailement in unhardened youth) With cunning hast thou filched my daughter's heart, Turned her obedience (which is due to me) To stubborn harshness. And, my gracious Duke, Be it so, she will not here, before your Grace, Consent to marry with Demetrius, I beg the ancient privilege of Athens: As she is mine, I may dispose of her: Which shall be, either to this gentleman, Or to her death; according to our law, Immediately provided, in that case. What say you, Hermia? Be advised, fair maid. To you, your father should be as a God: One that composed your beauties: yea and one, To whom you are but as a form in wax, By him imprinted, and within his power, To leave the figure, or disfigure it: Demetrius is a worthy gentleman. So is Lisander. In himself he is: But in this kind, wanting your father's voice, The other must be held the worthier. I would my father looked but with my eyes. Rather your eyes must, with his judgement, look, I do entreat your grace, to pardon me. I know not by what power, I am made bold; Nor how it may concern my modesty, In such a presence, here to plead my thoughts: But I beseech your Grace, that I may know The worst that may befall me in this case, If I refuse to wed Demetrius.
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 faire Hippolita, our nuptiall hower Draws on apase: fower happy daies bring in An other Moone: but oh, me thinks, how slow This old Moone waues! She lingers my desires, Like to a Stepdame, or a dowager, Long withering out a yong mans reuenewe. Fower daies will quickly steepe themselues in night: Fower nights will quickly dreame away the time: And then the Moone, like to a siluer bowe, Now bent in heauen, shall beholde the night Of our solemnities. Goe Philostrate, Stirre vp the Athenian youth to merriments, Awake the peart and nimble spirit of mirth, Turne melancholy foorth to funerals: The pale companion is not for our pomp. Hyppolita, I woo'd thee with my sword, And wonne thy loue, doing thee iniuries: But I will wed thee in another key, With pompe, with triumph, and with reueling. Happy be Theseus, our renowned duke. Thankes good Egeus. Whats the newes with thee? Full of vexation, come I, with complaint Against my childe, my daughter Hermia. My noble Lord, This man hath my consent to marry her. And my gratious Duke, This man hath bewitcht the bosome of my childe. Thou, thou Lysander, thou hast giuen her rimes, And interchang'd loue tokens with my childe: Thou hast, by moone-light, at her windowe sung, With faining voice, verses of faining loue, And stolne the impression of her phantasie: With bracelets of thy haire, rings, gawdes, conceites, Knackes, trifles, nosegaies, sweete meates (messengers Of strong preuailement in vnhardened youth) With cunning hast thou filcht my daughters heart, Turnd her obedience (which is due to mee) To stubborne harshnesse. And, my gratious Duke, Be it so, she will not here, before your Grace, Consent to marry with Demetrius, I beg the auncient priuiledge of Athens: As she is mine, I may dispose of her: Which shall be, either to this gentleman, Or to her death; according to our lawe, Immediatly prouided, in that case. What say you, Hermia? Be aduis'd, faire maid. To you, your father should be as a God: One that compos'd your beauties: yea and one, To whome you are but as a forme in wax, By him imprinted, and within his power, To leaue the figure, or disfigure it: Demetrius is a worthy gentleman. So is Lisander. In himselfe he is: But in this kinde, wanting your fathers voice, The other must be held the worthier. I would my father lookt but with my eyes. Rather your eyes must, with his iudgement, looke, I doe intreat your grace, to pardon mee. I know not by what power, I am made bould; Nor how it may concerne my modesty, In such a presence, here to plead my thoughts: But I beseech your Grace, that I may knowe The worst that may befall mee in this case, If I refuse to wed Demetrius.