Shakespeare, William · published 1603 · first performed or written 1601 [1600-1601] (Annals) tragedy · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men · at University unassigned nearest T1 Death, grief and revenge · 503 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
Well my Lord we'll take our leave. Farewell, farewell, God bless you. My lord, the Queen would speak with you. Do you see yonder cloud in the shape of a camel? 'tis like a camel in deed. Now me thinks it's like a weasel. 'tis backed like a weasel. Or like a whale. Very like a whale. Why then tell my mother i'll come by and by. Good night Horatio. Good night unto your Lordship. My mother she hath sent to speak with me: O God, let ne'er the heart of Nero enter This soft bosom. Let me be cruel, not unnatural. I will speak daggers▪ those sharp words being spent, To do her wrong my soul shall ne'er consent. O that this wet that falls upon my face Would wash the crime clear from my conscience! When I look up to heaven, I see my trespass, The earth doth still cry out upon my fact, Pay me the murder of a brother and a king, And the adulterous fault I have committed: O these are sins that are unpardonable: Why say thy sins were blacker then is jet, Yet may contrition make them as white as snow: I but still to persever in a sin, It is an act 'gainst the universal power, Most wretched man, stoop, bend thee to thy prayer, Ask grace of heaven to keep thee from despair. I so, come forth and work thy last, And thus he dies: and so am I revenged: No, not so: he took my father sleeping, his sins brim full, And how his soul stood to the state of heaven Who knows, save the immortal powers, And shall I kill him now, When he is purging of his soul? Making his way for heaven this is a benefit, And not revenge: no, get thee up again, When he's at game swaring, taking his carouse, drinking drunk, Or in the incestuous pleasure of his bed, Or at some act that hath no relish Of salvation in't, then trip him That his heels may kick at heaven, And fall as low as hell: my mother stays, This physic but prolongs thy weary days. My words fly up, my sins remain below. No King on earth is safe, if Gods his foe. Madame, I hear young Hamlet coming, I'll shroud myself behind the Arras. Do so my Lord. Mother, mother, O are you here? How is't with you mother? How is't with you? I'll tell you, but first we'll make all safe. Hamlet, thou hast thy father much offended. Mother, you have my father much offended. How now boy? How now mother! come here, sit down, for you shall hear me speak. What wilt thou do? thou wilt not murder me: Help ho. Help for the Queen. I a Rat, dead for a Ducat. Rash intruding fool, farewell, I took thee for thy better. Hamlet, what hast thou done? Not so much harm, good mother, As to kill a king, and marry with his brother.
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)
Wel my Lord wee'le take our leaue. Farewell, farewell, God blesse you. My lord, the Queene would speake with you. Do you see yonder clowd in the shape of a camell? T'is like a camell in deed. Now me thinkes it's like a weasel. T'is back't like a weasell. Or like a whale. Very like a whale. Why then tell my mother i'le come by and by. Good night Horatio. Good night vnto your Lordship. My mother she hath sent to speake with me: O God, let ne're the heart of Nero enter This soft bosome. Let me be cruell, not vnnaturall. I will speake daggers▪ those sharpe wordes being spent, To doe her wrong my soule shall ne're consent. O that this wet that falles vpon my face Would wash the crime cleere from my conscience! When I looke vp to heauen, I see my trespasse, The earth doth still crie out vpon my fact, Pay me the murder of a brother and a king, And the adulterous fault I haue committed: O these are sinnes that are vnpardonable: Why say thy sinnes were blacker then is ieat, Yet may contrition make them as white as snowe: I but still to perseuer in a sinne, It is an act gainst the vniuersall power, Most wretched man, stoope, bend thee to thy prayer, Aske grace of heauen to keepe thee from despaire. I so, come forth and worke thy last, And thus hee dies: and so am I reuenged: No, not so: he tooke my father sleeping, his sins brim full, And how his soule stoode to the state of heauen Who knowes, saue the immortall powres, And shall I kill him now, When he is purging of his soule? Making his way for heauen this is a benefit, And not reuenge: no, get thee vp agen, When hee's at game swaring, taking his carowse, drinking drunke, Or in the incestuous pleasure of his bed, Or at some act that hath no relish Of saluation in't, then trip him That his heeles may kicke at heauen, And fall as lowe as hel: my mother stayes, This phisicke but prolongs thy weary dayes. My wordes fly vp, my sinnes remaine below. No King on earth is safe, if Gods his foe. Madame, I heare yong Hamlet comming, I'le shrowde my selfe behinde the Arras. Do so my Lord. Mother, mother, O are you here? How i'st with you mother? How i'st with you? I'le tell you, but first weele make all safe. Hamlet, thou hast thy father much offended. Mother, you haue my father much offended. How now boy? How now mother! come here, sit downe, for you shall heare me speake. What wilt thou doe? thou wilt not murder me: Helpe hoe. Helpe for the Queene. I a Rat, dead for a Duckat. Rash intruding foole, farewell, I tooke thee for thy better. Hamlet, what hast thou done? Not so much harme, good mother, As to kill a king, and marry with his brother.