Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1601 [1600-1601] (Annals) tragedy · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men unassigned nearest T38 Death, parting and grief at court · 493 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T38: queen, king, death, dead, heart, life, die, lord, royal, news.
WHo's there? Nay answer me: Stand & unfold yourself. Long live the King. Bernardo? He. You come most carefully upon your hour. 'Tis now struck twelve, get thee to bed Francisco. For this relief much thankes: 'Tis bitter cold, And I am sick at heart. Have you had quiet Guard? Not a Mouse stirring. Well, good-night. If you do meet Horatio and Marcellus, the Rivals of my Watch, bid them make haste. I think I hear them. Stand: who's there? Friends to this ground. And Liegemen to the Dane. Give you good night. O farewell honest Soldier, who hath relieved you? Bernardo has my place: give you goodnight. Holla Bernardo. Say, what is Horatio there? A piece of him. Welcome Horatio, welcome good Marcellus. What, has this thing appeared again to night. I have seen nothing. Horatio says, 'tis but our Fantasy, And will not let belief take hold of him Touching this dreaded sight, twice seen of us, Therefore I have entreated him along With us, to watch the minutes of this Night, That if again this Apparition come, He may approve our eyes, and speak to it. Tush, tush, 'twill not appear. Sat down awhile, And let us once again assail your ears, That are so fortified against our Story, What we two Nights have seen. Well, sit we down, And let us hear Bernardo speak of this. Last night of all, When yond same Star that's Westward from the Pole Had made his course t' illume that part of Heaven Where now it burns, Marcellus and myself, The Bell then beating one. Peace, break thee of: Look where it comes again. In the same figure, like the King that's dead. Thou art a Scholar; speak to it Horatio. Looks it not like the King? Mark it Horatio. Most like: It harrows me with fear & wonder It would be spoke too. Question it Horatio. What art thou that usurpest this time of night, Together with that Fair and Warlike form In which the Majesty of buried Denmark Did sometimes march: By Heaven I charge thee speak. It is offended. See, it stalks away. Stay: speak; speak: I Charge thee, speak. 'Tis gone, and will not answer. How now Horatio? You tremble & look pale: Is not this something more than Fantasy? What think you on't? Before my God, I might not this believe Without the sensible and true avouch Of mine own eyes. Is it not like the King? As thou art to thyself, Such was the very Armour he had on, When th' Ambitious Norwey combated: So frowned he once, when in an angry parley He smote the sledded Pole-axe on the Ice. 'Tis strange. Thus twice before, and just at this dead hour, With Martial stalk, hath he gone by our Watch. In what particular thought to work, I know not: But in the gross and scope of my Opinion, This bodes some strange eruption to our State.
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: T6 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
WHo's there? Nay anſwer me: Stand & vnfold your ſelfe. Long liue the King. Barnardo? He. You come moſt carefully vpon your houre. 'Tis now ſtrook twelue, get thee to bed Franciſco. For this releefe much thankes: 'Tis bitter cold, And I am ſicke at heart. Haue you had quiet Guard? Not a Mouſe ſtirring. Well, goodnight. If you do meet Horatio and Marcellus, the Riuals of my Watch, bid them make haſt. I thinke I heare them. Stand: who's there? Friends to this ground. And Leige-men to the Dane. Giue you good night. O farwel honeſt Soldier, who hath relieu'd you? Barnardo ha's my place: giue you goodnight. Holla Barnardo. Say, what is Horatio there? A peece of him. Welcome Horatio, welcome good Marcellus. What, ha's this thing appear'd againe to night. I haue ſeene nothing. Horatio ſaies, 'tis but our Fantaſie, And will not let beleefe take hold of him Touching this dreaded ſight, twice ſeene of vs, Therefore I haue intreated him along With vs, to watch the minutes of this Night, That if againe this Apparition come, He may approue our eyes, and ſpeake to it. Tuſh, tuſh, 'twill not appeare. Sit downe a-while, And let vs once againe aſſaile your eares, That are ſo fortified againſt our Story, What we two Nights haue ſeene. Well, ſit we downe, And let vs heare Barnardo ſpeake of this. Laſt night of all, When yond ſame Starre that's Weſtward from the Pole Had made his courſe t' illume that part of Heauen Where now it burnes, Marcellus and my ſelfe, The Bell then beating one. Peace, breake thee of: Looke where it comes againe. In the ſame figure, like the King that's dead. Thou art a Scholler; ſpeake to it Horatio. Lookes it not like the King? Marke it Horatio. Moſt like: It harrowes me with fear & wonder It would be ſpoke too. Queſtion it Horatio. What art thou that vſurp'ſt this time of night, Together with that Faire and Warlike forme In which the Maieſty of buried Denmarke Did ſometimes march: By Heauen I charge thee ſpeake. It is offended. See, it ſtalkes away. Stay: ſpeake; ſpeake: I Charge thee, ſpeake. 'Tis gone, and will not anſwer. How now Horatio? You tremble & look pale: Is not this ſomething more then Fantaſie? What thinke you on't? Before my God, I might not this beleeue Without the ſenſible and true auouch Of mine owne eyes. Is it not like the King? As thou art to thy ſelfe, Such was the very Armour he had on, When th' Ambitious Norwey combatted: So frown'd he once, when in an angry parle He ſmot the ſledded Pollax on the Ice. 'Tis ſtrange. Thus twice before, and iuſt at this dead houre, With Martiall ſtalke, hath he gone by our Watch. In what particular thought to work, I know not: But in the groſſe and ſcope of my Opinion, This boades ſome ſtrange erruption to our State.