Shakespeare, William · published 1600 · first performed or written 1596 [1594-1596] (Annals) comedy · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men unassigned nearest T55 Fairies, fairy queens and enchanted desi · 513 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T55: fairy, fairies, oberon, mopsus, queen, land, grace, babylon, mab, thestylis.
No Epilogue, I pray you. For your Play needs no excuse. Never excuse: For when the Players are all dead, there need none to be blamed. Mary, if he that writ it, had played Pyramus, and hanged himself in Thisbe's garter, it would have been a fine Tragedy: and so it is truly, and very notably discharged. But come your Burgomaske: let your Epilogue alone. The iron tongue of midnight hath told twelve. Lovers to bed, 'tis almost Fairy time. I fear we shall outsleepe the coming morn, As much as we this night have ouerwatcht. This palpable gross Play hath well beguiled The heavy gate of night. Sweet friends, to bed. A fortnight hold we this solemnity, In nightly Revels, and new jollity. Now the hungry Lions roars. And the wolf beholds the Moon; Whilst the heavy ploughman snores, All with weary task foredoone. Now the wasted brands do glow, Whilst the screech-owl, scrieching loud, Puts the wretch, that lies in woe, In remembrance of a shroud. Now it is the time of night, That the graves, all gaping wide, Every one lets forth his sprite, In the Church way paths to glide. And we Fairies, that do run, By the triple Hecate's team, From the presence of the Sun, Following darkness like a dream, Now are frolic: not a mouse Shall disturb this hallowed house. I am sent, with broom, before, To sweep the dust, behind the door. Through the house give glimmering light, By the dead and drowsy fire, Every Elf and Fairy sprite, Hop as light as bird from brier, And this ditty after me, Sing, and dance it trippingly. First rehearse your song by rote, To each word a warbling note. Hand in hand, with Fairy grace, Will we sing and bless this place. Now, until the break of day, Through this house, each Fairy stray. To the best bride bed will we: Which by us shall blessed be: And the issue, there create, Ever shall be fortunate: So shall all the couples three Ever true in loving be: And the blots of nature's hand Shall not in their issue stand. Never mole, hare-lippe, nor scar, Nor mark prodigious, such as are Despised in nativity, Shall upon their children be. With this field dew consecrate, Every Fairy take his gate, And each several chamber bless, Through this palace, with sweet peace, Ever shall in safety rest, And the owner of it blessed. Trippe away: make no stay: Meet me all, by break of day. If we shadows have offended, Think but this (and all is mended) That you have but slumbered here, While these visions did appear. And this weak and idle theme, No more yielding but a dream, Gentles, do not reprehend. If you pardon, we will mend, And, as I am an honest Puck, If we have unearned luck, Now to scape the Serpent's tongue, We will make amends, ere long: Else, the Puck a liar call. So, good night unto you all. Give me your hands, if we be friends: And Robin shall restore amends.
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)
No Epilogue, I pray you. For your Play needs no excuse. Neuer excuse: For when the Players are all deade, there neede none to be blamed. Mary, if hee that writ it, had played Pyramus, and hangd himselfe in Thisbies garter, it would haue beene a fine Tragedy: and so it is truely, and very notably discharg'd. But come your Burgomaske: let your Epilogue alone. The iron tongue of midnight hath tolde twelue. Louers to bed, tis almost Fairy time. I feare we shall outsleepe the comming morne, As much as wee this night haue ouerwatcht. This palpable grosse Play hath well beguil'd The heauie gate of night. Sweete friends, to bed. A fortnight holde we this solemnitie, In nightly Reuels, and new iollity. Now the hungry Lyons roares. And the wolfe beholds the Moone; Whilst the heauie ploughman snores, All with weary taske foredoone. Now the wasted brands doe glowe, Whilst the scriech-owle, scrieching lowd, Puts the wretch, that lyes in woe, In remembrance of a shrowde. Now it is the time of night, That the graues, all gaping wide, Euery one lets forth his spright, In the Church way paths to glide. And wee Fairies, that doe runne, By the triple Hecates teame, From the presence of the Sunne, Following darkenesse like a dreame, Now are frollick: not a mouse Shall disturbe this hallowed house. I am sent, with broome, before, To sweepe the dust, behinde the dore. Through the house giue glimmering light, By the dead and drowsie fier, Euery Elfe and Fairy spright, Hop as light as birde from brier, And this dittie after mee, Sing, and daunce it trippingly. First rehearse your song by rote, To each word a warbling note. Hand in hand, with Fairy grace, Will we sing and blesse this place. Now, vntill the breake of day, Through this house, each Fairy stray. To the best bride bed will wee: Which by vs shall blessed be: And the issue, there create, Euer shall be fortunate: So shall all the couples three Euer true in louing be: And the blots of natures hand Shall not in their issue stand. Neuer mole, hare-lippe, nor scarre, Nor marke prodigious, such as are Despised in natiuitie, Shall vpon their children be. With this field deaw consecrate, Euery Fairy take his gate, And each seuerall chamber blesse, Through this palace, with sweete peace, Euer shall in safety rest, And the owner of it blest. Trippe away: make no stay: Meete me all, by breake of day. If we shadowes haue offended, Thinke but this (and all is mended) That you haue but slumbred here, While these visions did appeare. And this weake and idle theame, No more yielding but a dreame, Gentles, doe not reprehend. If you pardon, wee will mend, And, as I am an honest Puck, If we haue vnearned luck, Now to scape the Serpents tongue, We will make amends, ere long: Else, the Puck a lyer call. So, good night vnto you all. Giue me your hands, if we be friends: And Robin shall restore amends.