Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1596 [1594-1596] (Annals) comedy · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men unassigned nearest T36 Hell, Furies and the language of punishm · 487 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T36: hell, earth, gods, death, ghosts, blood, bloody, heaven, night, ghost.
Where art thou, proud Demetrius? Speak thou now. Here villain, drawn & ready. Where art thou? I will be with thee strait. Fellow me then to plainer ground. Lysander, speak again; Thou runaway, thou coward, art thou fled? Speak in some bush: Where dost thou hide thy head? Thou coward, art thou bragging to the stars, Telling the bushes that thou look'st for wars, And wilt not come? Come recreant, come thou child, I'll whip thee with a rod. He is defiled That draws a sword on thee. Yea, art thou there? Fellow my voice, we'll try no manhood here. He goes before me, and still dares me on, When I come where he calls, then he's gone. The villain is much lighter heeled than I: I followed fast, but faster he did fly; That fallen am I in dark uneven way, And here will rest me. Come thou gentle day: For if but once thou show me thy grey light, I'll find Demetrius, and revenge this spite. Ho, ho, ho; coward, why comest thou not? Abide me, if thou darest. For well I wots, Thou run'st before me, shifting every place, And darest not stand, nor look me in the face. Where art thou? Come hither, I am here. Nay then thou mockest me; thou shalt buy this dear, If ever I thy face by daylight see. Now go thy way: faintness constraineth me, To measure out my length on this cold bed, By days approach look to be visited. O weary night, O long and tedious night, Abate thy hours, shine comforts from the East, That I may back to Athens by daylight, From these that my poor company detest; And sleep that sometime shuts up sorrow's eye, Steal me a while from mine own company. Yet but three? Come one more, Two of both kinds makes up four. Here she comes, cursed and sad, Cupid is a knavish lad, Thus to make poor females mad. Never so weary, never so in woe, Bedabbled with the dew, and torn with briers, I can no further crawl, no further go; My legs can keep no pace with my desires. Here will I rest me till the break of day, Heaven's shield Lysander, if they mean a fray. On the ground sleep sound, I'll apply your eye gentle lover, remedy. When thou wakest, thou tak'st True delight in the sight of thy former Lady's eye, And the Country Proverb known, That every man should take his own, In your waking shall be shown. Iacke shall have Iill, nought shall go ill, The man shall have his Mare again; and all shall be well. Come, sit thee down upon this flowery bed, While I thy amiable cheeks do coy, And stick musk roses in thy sleek smooth head, And kiss thy fair large ears, my gentle joy. Where's Pease blossom? Ready. Scratch my head, Pease-blossome. where's Mounsiever Cobweb.
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)
Where art thou, proud Demetrius? Speake thou now. Here villaine, drawne & readie. Where art thou? I will be with thee ſtraight. Follow me then to plainer ground. Lyſander, ſpeake againe; Thou runaway, thou coward, art thou fled? Speake in ſome buſh: Where doſt thou hide thy head? Thou coward, art thou bragging to the ſtars, Telling the buſhes that thou look'ſt for wars, And wilt not come? Come recreant, come thou childe, Ile whip thee with a rod. He is defil'd That drawes a ſword on thee. Yea, art thou there? Follow my voice, we'l try no manhood here. He goes before me, and ſtill dares me on, When I come where he cals, then he's gone. The villaine is much lighter heel'd then I: I followed faſt, but faſter he did flye; That fallen am I in darke vneuen way, And here wil reſt me. Come thou gentle day: For if but once thou ſhew me thy gray light, Ile finde Demetrius, and reuenge this ſpight. Ho, ho, ho; coward, why com'ſt thou not? Abide me, if thou dar'ſt. For well I wot, Thou runſt before me, ſhifting euery place, And dar'ſt not ſtand, nor looke me in the face. Where art thou? Come hither, I am here. Nay then thou mock'ſt me; thou ſhalt buy this deere, If euer I thy face by day-light ſee. Now goe thy way: faintneſſe conſtraineth me, To meaſure out my length on this cold bed, By daies approach looke to be viſited. O weary night, O long and tedious night, Abate thy houres, ſhine comforts from the Eaſt, That I may backe to Athens by day-light, From theſe that my poore companie deteſt; And ſleepe that ſometime ſhuts vp ſorrowes eie, Steale me a while from mine owne companie. Yet but three? Come one more, Two of both kindes makes vp foure. Here ſhe comes, curſt and ſad, Cupid is a knauiſh lad, Thus to make poore females mad. Neuer ſo wearie, neuer ſo in woe, Bedabbled with the dew, and torne with briars, I can no further crawle, no further goe; My legs can keepe no pace with my deſires. Here will I reſt me till the breake of day, Heauens ſhield Lyſander, if they meane a fray. On the ground ſleepe ſound, Ile apply your eie gentle louer, remedy. When thou wak'ſt, thou tak'ſt True delight in the ſight of thy former Ladies eye, And the Country Prouerb knowne, That euery man ſhould take his owne▪ In your waking ſhall be ſhowne. Iacke ſhall haue Iill, noght ſhall goe ill, The man ſhall haue his Mare againe; and all ſhall bee well. Come, ſit thee downe vpon this flowry bed, While I thy amiable cheekes doe coy, And ſticke muske roſes in thy ſleeke ſmoothe head, And kiſſe thy faire large eares, my gentle ioy. Where's Peaſe bloſſome? Ready. Scratch my head, Peaſe-bloſſome. Wher's Mounſieuer Cobweb.