Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1596 [1594-1596] (Annals) comedy · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men unassigned nearest T7 The Trojan war: conflict and its afterma · 507 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T7: hector, troy, achilles, greeks, aeneas, priam, ulysses, troilus, trojan, trojans.
Gentles, perchance you wonder at this show, But wonder on, till truth make all things plain. This man is Pyramus, if you would know; This beauteous Lady, Thisbe is certain. This man, with lime and rough-cast, doth present Wall, that vile wall, which did these lovers sunder: And through walls chink (poor souls) they are content To whisper. At the which, let no man wonder. This man, with Lantern, dog, and bush of thorn, Presenteth moonshine. For if you will know, By moonshine did these Lovers think no scorn To meet at Ninus tomb, there, there to woo: This grizy beast (which Lion hight by name) The trusty Thisbe, coming first by night, Did scar away, or rather did affright: And as she fled, her mantle she did fall; Which Lion vile with bloody mouth did stain. Anon comes Pyramus, sweet youth and tall, And finds his Thisbies Mantle slain; Whereat, with blade, with bloody blameful blade, He bravely broached his boiling bloody breast, And Thisbe, tarrying in Mulberry shade, His dagger drew, and died. For all the rest, Let Lion, Moonshine, Wall, and Lovers twain, At large discourse, while here they do remain. I wonder if the Lion be to speak. No wonder, my Lord: one Lion may, when many Asses do. In this same Interlude, it doth befall, That I, one Snowt (by name) present a wall: And such a wall, as I would have you think, That had in it a crannied hole or chink: Through which the Lovers, Pyramus and Thisbie Did whisper often, very secretly. This loam, this rough-cast, and this stone doth show, That I am that same Wall; the truth is so. And this the cranny is, right and sinister, Through which the fearful Lovers are to whisper. Would you desire Lime and Hair to speak better? It is the wittiest partition, that ever I heard discourse, my Lord. Pyramus draws near the Wall, silence. O grim looked night, o night with hue so black, O night, which ever art, when day is not: O night, o night, alack, alack, alack, I fear my Thisbies promise is forgot. And thou o wall, thou sweet and lovely wall, That stands between her father's ground and mine, Thou wall, o wall, o sweet and lovely wall, Show me thy chink, to blink through with mine eine. Thanks courteous wall. Ioue shield thee well for this. But what see I? No Thisbie do I see. O wicked wall, through whom I see no bliss, Cursed be thy stones for thus deceiving me. The wall methinks being sensible, should curse again. No in truth sir, he should not. Deceiving me, Is Thisbies cue; she is to enter, and I am to spy Her through the wall. You shall see it will fall. Pat as I told you; yonder she comes. O wall, full often hast thou heard my moans, For parting my fair Pyramus, and me. My cherry lips have often kissed thy stones; Thy stones with Lime and Hair knit up in thee.
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)
Gentles, perchance you wonder at this ſhow, But wonder on, till truth make all things plaine. This man is Piramus, if you would know; This beauteous Lady, Thisby is certaine. This man, with lyme and rough-caſt, doth preſent Wall, that vile wall, which did theſe louers ſunder: And through walls chink (poor ſoules) they are content To whiſper. At the which, let no man wonder. This man, with Lanthorne, dog, and buſh of thorne, Preſenteth moone-ſhine. For if you will know, By moone-ſhine did theſe Louers thinke no ſcorne To meet at Ninus toombe, there, there to wooe: This grizy beaſt (which Lyon hight by name) The truſty Thisby, comming firſt by night, Did ſcarre away, or rather did affright: And as ſhe fled, her mantle ſhe did fall; Which Lyon vile with bloody mouth did ſtaine. Anon comes Piramus, ſweet youth and tall, And findes his Thisbies Mantle ſlaine; Whereat, with blade, with bloody blamefull blade, He brauely broacht his boiling bloudy breaſt, And Thisby, tarrying in Mulberry ſhade, His dagger drew, and died. For all the reſt, Let Lyon, Moone-ſhine, Wall, and Louers twaine, At large diſcourſe, while here they doe remaine. I wonder if the Lion be to ſpeake. No wonder, my Lord: one Lion may, when many Aſſes doe. In this ſame Interlude, it doth befall, That I, one Snowt (by name) preſent a wall: And ſuch a wall, as I vvould haue you thinke, That had in it a crannied hole or chinke: Through which the Louers, Piramus and Thisbie Did whiſper often, very ſecretly. This loame, this rough-caſt, and this ſtone doth ſhew, That I am that ſame Wall; the truth is ſo. And this the cranny is, right and ſiniſter, Through which the fearefull Louers are to whiſper. Would you deſire Lime and Haire to ſpeake better? It is the vvittieſt partition, that euer I heard diſcourſe, my Lord. Pyramus drawes neere the Wall, ſilence. O grim lookt night, ô night with hue ſo blacke, O night, which euer art, when day is not: O night, ô night, alacke, alacke, alacke, I feare my Thisbies promiſe is forgot. And thou ô vvall, thou ſweet and louely vvall, That ſtands betweene her fathers ground and mine, Thou vvall, ô vvall, ô ſweet and louely vvall, Shew me thy chinke, to blinke through vvith mine eine. Thankes courteous vvall. Ioue ſhield thee vvell for this. But vvhat ſee I? No Thisbie doe I ſee. O vvicked vvall, through vvhom I ſee no bliſſe, Curſt be thy ſtones for thus deceiuing mee. The vvall me-thinkes being ſenſible, ſhould curſe againe. No in truth ſir, he ſhould not. Deceiuing me, Is Thisbies cue; ſhe is to enter, and I am to ſpy Her through the vvall. You ſhall ſee it vvill fall. Pat as I told you; yonder ſhe comes. O vvall, full often haſt thou heard my mones, For parting my faire Piramus, and me. My cherry lips haue often kiſt thy ſtones; Thy ſtones vvith Lime and Haire knit vp in thee.