Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1596 [1594-1596] (Annals) comedy · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men T4 Love-longing and the lover's complaint typicality 0.85 · 467 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T4: love, heart, sweet, loves, fair, phillis, eyes, beauty, amyntas, lovers.
Have you not set Lysander, as in scorn To follow me, and praise my eyes and face? And made your other love, Demetrius (Who even but now did spurn me with his foot) To call me goddess, nymph, divine, and rare, Precious, celestial? Wherefore speaks he this To her he hates? And wherefore doth Lysander Deny your love (so rich within his soul) And tender me (forsooth) affection, But by your setting on, by your consent? What though I be not so in grace as you, So hung upon with love, so fortunate? (But miserable most, to love vnlou'd) This you should pity, rather than despise. I understand not what you mean by this. I, do, persever, counterfeit sad looks, Make mouths upon me when I turn my back, Wink each at other, hold the sweet jest up: This sport well carried, shall be chronicled. If you have any pity, grace, or manners, You would not make me such an argument: But far ye well, 'tis partly mine own fault, Which death or absence soon shall remedy. Stay gentle Helena, hear my excuse, My love, my life, my soul, fair Helena. O excellent! Sweet, do not scorn her so. If she cannot entreat, I can compel. Thou canst compel, no more than she entreat. Thy threats have no more strength than her weak praise. Helen, I love thee, by my life I do; I swear by that which I will lose for thee, To prove him false, that says I love thee not. I say, I love thee more than he can do. If thou say so, withdraw and prove it too. Quick, come. Lysander, whereto tends all this? Away, you Ethiope. No, no, Sir, seem to break lose; Take on as you would follow, But yet come not: you are a tame man, go. Hang off thou cat, thou but: vile thing let lose, Or I will shake thee from me like a serpent. Why are you grown so rude? What change is this sweet Love? Thy love? out tawny Tartar, out; Out loathed medicine; O hated poison hence. Do you not jest? Yes sooth, and so do you. Demetrius: I will keep my word with thee. I would I had your bond for I perceive A weak bond holds you; I'll not trust your word. What, should I hit her, strike her, kill her dead? Although I hate her, I'll not harm her so. What, can you do me greater harm than hate? Hate me, wherefore? O me, what news my Love? Am not I Hermia? Are not you Lysander? I am as fair now, as I was ere while. Since night you loved me; yet since night you left me. Why then you left me (O the gods forbidden In earnest, shall I say?
Other edition — placed after the fit, excluded from the main statistics
Position
nodes 1057–1117 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 20 of 33 in this edition
Length
467 words · 634 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T4 — Love-longing and the lover's complaintcross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.853 (cosine to the topic centroid) · placed after the fit (approximate_predict), not counted in the topic statistics
Other seeds
seed 43: T2 · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Haue you not ſet Lyſander, as in ſcorne To follow me, and praiſe my eies and face? And made your other loue, Demetrius (Who euen but now did ſpurne me with his foote) To call me goddeſſe, nimph, diuine, and rare, Precious, celeſtiall? Wherefore ſpeakes he this To her he hates? And wherefore doth Lyſander Denie your loue (ſo rich within his ſoule) And tender me (forſooth) affection, But by your ſetting on, by your conſent? What though I be not ſo in grace as you, So hung vpon with loue, ſo fortunate? (But miſerable moſt, to loue vnlou'd) This you ſhould pittie, rather then deſpiſe. I vnderſtand not what you meane by this. I, doe, perſeuer, counterfeit ſad lookes, Make mouthes vpon me when I turne my backe, Winke each at other, hold the ſweete ieſt vp: This ſport well carried, ſhall be chronicled. If you haue any pittie, grace, or manners, You would not make me ſuch an argument: But fare ye well, 'tis partly mine owne fault, Which death or abſence ſoone ſhall remedie. Stay gentle Helena, heare my excuſe, My loue, my life, my ſoule, faire Helena. O excellent! Sweete, do not ſcorne her ſo. If ſhe cannot entreate, I can compell. Thou canſt compell, no more then ſhe entreate. Thy threats haue no more ſtrength then her weak praiſe. Helen, I loue thee, by my life I doe; I ſweare by that which I will loſe for thee, To proue him falſe, tha ſaies I loue thee not. I ſay, I loue thee more then he can do. If thou ſay ſo, with-draw and proue it too. Quick, come. Lyſander, whereto tends all this? Away, you Ethiope. No, no, Sir, ſeeme to breake looſe; Take on as you would follow, But yet come not: you are a tame man, go. Hang off thou cat, thou but: vile thing let looſe, Or I will ſhake thee from me like a ſerpent. Why are you growne ſo rude? What change is this ſweete Loue? Thy loue? out tawny Tartar, out; Out loathed medicine; O hated poiſon hence. Do you not ieſt? Yes ſooth, and ſo do you. Demetrius: I will keepe my word with thee. I would I had your bond for I perceiue A weake bond▪ holds you; Ile not truſt your word. What, ſhould I ht her, ſtrike her, kill her dead▪ Although I hate her, Ile not harme her ſo. What, can you do me greater harme then hate? Hate me, wherefore? O me, what newes my Loue? Am not I Hermia? Are not you Lyſander? I am as faire now, as I was ere while. Since night you lou'd me; yet ſince night you left me. Why then you left me (O the gods forbid In earneſt, ſhall I ſay?