Shakespeare, William · published 1603 · first performed or written 1601 [1600-1601] (Annals) tragedy · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men · at University T1 Death, grief and revenge typicality 0.86 · 508 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
O God. Revenge his foul, and most unnatural murder: Murder. Yea, murder in the highest degree, As in the least 'tis bad, But mine most foul, beastly, and unnatural. Haste me to know it, that with wings as swift as meditation, or the thought of it, may sweep to my revenge. O I find thee apt, and duller shouldst thou be Then the fat weed which roots itself in ease On Lethe wharf: brief let me be. 'tis given out, that sleeping in my orchard, A Serpent stung me; so the whole ear of Denmark Is with a forged Prosses of my death rankly abused: But know thou noble Youth: he that did sting Thy father's heart, now wears his Crown. O my prophetic soul, my uncle! my uncle! Yea he, that incestuous wretch, won to his will with gifts, O wicked will, and gifts! that have the power So to seduce my most seeming virtuous Queen, But vertne, as it never will be moved, Though Lewdness court it in a shape of heaven, So Lust, though to a radiant angle linked, Would fate itself from a celestial bed, And prey on garbage: but soft, me thinks I sent the morning's air, brief let me be, Sleeping within my Orchard, my custom always In the after noon, upon my secure hour Thy uncle came, with juice of Hebona In a vial, and through the porches of my ears Did power the leprous distilment, whose effect Hold such an enmity with blood of man, That swift as quicksilver, it posteth through The natural gates and allies of the body, And turns the thin and wholesome blood Like eager droppings into milk. And all my smooth body, barked, and tetterd over. Thus was I sleeping by a brother's hand Of Crown, of Queen, of life, of dignity At once deprived, no reckoning made of, But sent unto my grave, With all my accounts and sins upon my head, O horrible, most horrible! O God If thou hast nature in thee, bear it not, But howsoever, let not thy heart Conspire against thy mother aught, Leave her to heaven, And to the burden that her conscience bears. I must be gone, the Glow-worm shows the Mattin To be near, and 'gins to pale his uneffectual fire: Hamlet adieu, adieu, adieu: remember me. O all you host of heaven! O earth, what else? And shall I couple hell; remember thee? Yes thou poor Ghost; from the tables Of my memory, i'll wipe away all saws of Books, All trivial fond conceits That ever youth, or else observance noted, And thy remembrance, all alone shall sit. Yes, yes, by heaven, a damned pernicious villain, Murderons, bawdy, smiling damned villain, (My tables) meet it is I set it down, That one may smile, and smile, and be a villain; At least I am sure, it may be so in Denmark. So uncle, there you are, there you are. Now to the words; it is adieu adieu: remember me, So 'tis enough I have sworn.
Other edition — placed after the fit, excluded from the main statistics
Position
nodes 474–539 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 8 of 32 in this edition
Length
508 words · 696 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T1 — Death, grief and revengecross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.859 (cosine to the topic centroid) · placed after the fit (approximate_predict), not counted in the topic statistics
Other seeds
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: T1 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
O God. Reuenge his foule, and most vnnaturall murder: Murder. Yea, murder in the highest degree, As in the least tis bad, But mine most foule, beastly, and vnnaturall. Haste me to knowe it, that with wings as swift as meditation, or the thought of it, may sweepe to my reuenge. O I finde thee apt, and duller shouldst thou be Then the fat weede which rootes it selfe in ease On Lethe wharffe: briefe let me be. Tis giuen out, that sleeping in my orchard, A Serpent stung me; so the whole eare of Denmarke Is with a forged Prosses of my death rankely abusde: But know thou noble Youth: he that did sting Thy fathers heart, now weares his Crowne. O my prophetike soule, my vncle! my vncle! Yea he, that incestuous wretch, wonne to his will with gifts, O wicked will, and gifts! that haue the power So to seduce my most seeming vertuous Queene, But vertne, as it neuer will be moued, Though Lewdnesse court it in a shape of heauen, So Lust, though to a radiant angle linckt, Would fate it selfe from a celestiall bedde, And prey on garbage: but soft, me thinkes I sent the mornings ayre, briefe let me be, Sleeping within my Orchard, my custome alwayes In the after noone, vpon my secure houre Thy vncle came, with iuyce of Hebona In a viall, and through the porches of my eares Did powre the leaprous distilment, whose effect Hold such an enmitie with blood of man, That swift as quickesiluer, it posteth through The naturall gates and allies of the body, And turnes the thinne and wholesome blood Like eager dropings into milke. And all my smoothe body, barked, and tetterd ouer. Thus was I sleeping by a brothers hand Of Crowne, of Queene, of life, of dignitie At once depriued, no reckoning made of, But sent vnto my graue, With all my accompts and sinnes vpon my head, O horrible, most horrible! O God! If thou hast nature in thee, beare it not, But howsoeuer, let not thy heart Conspire against thy mother aught, Leaue her to heauen, And to the burthen that her conscience beares. I must be gone, the Glo-worme shewes the Mattin To be neere, and gin's to pale his vneffectuall fire: Hamlet adue, adue, adue: remember me. O all you hoste of heauen! O earth, what else? And shall I couple hell; remember thee? Yes thou poore Ghost; from the tables Of my memorie, ile wipe away all sawes of Bookes, All triuiall fond conceites That euer youth, or else obseruance noted, And thy remembrance, all alone shall sit. Yes, yes, by heauen, a damnd pernitious villaine, Murderons, bawdy, smiling damned villaine, (My tables) meet it is I set it downe, That one may smile, and smile, and be a villayne; Atleast I am sure, it may be so in Denmarke. So vncle, there you are, there you are. Now to the words; it is adue adue: remember me, Soe t'is enough I haue sworne.