Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1601 [1600-1601] (Annals) tragedy · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men unassigned nearest T40 Sin, guilt and violent loss within famil · 546 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T40: brother, death, life, die, heaven, sin, live, father, blood, soul.
It faded on the crowing of the Cock. Some says, that ever 'gainst that Season comes Wherein our Saviour's Birth is celebrated, The Bird of Dawning singeth all night long: And then (they say) no Spirit can walk abroad, The nights are wholesome, than no Planets strike, No Fairy talks, nor Witch hath power to Charm: So hallowed, and so gracious is the time. So have I heard, and do in part believe it. But look, the Morn in Russet mantle clad, Walks o'er the dew of you high Eastern Hill, Break we our Watch up, and by my advice Let us impart what we have seen to night Unto young Hamlet. For upon my life, This Spirit dumb to us, will speak to him: Do you consent we shall acquaint him with it, As needful in our Loves, fitting our Duty? Let do't I pray, and I this morning know Where we shall find him most conveniently. Though yet of Hamlet our dear Brother's death The memory be green: and that it us befitted To bear our hearts in grief, and our whole Kingdom To be contracted in one brow of woe: Yet so far hath Discretion fought with Nature, That we with wisest sorrow think on him, Together with remembrance of ourselves. Therefore our sometimes Sister, now our Queen, Th' Imperial joyntresse of this warlike State, Have we, as 'twere, with a defeated joy, With one Auspicious, and one Dropping eye, With mirth in Funeral, and with Dirge in Marriage, In equal Scale weighing Delight and Dole Taken to Wife; nor have we herein barred Your better Wisdoms, which have freely gone With this affair along, for all our Thanks. Now follows, that you know young Fortinbras, Holding a weak supposal of our worth; Or thinking by our late dear Brother's death, Our State to be disjoint, and out of Frame, Colleagued with the dream of his Advantage; He hath not failed to pester us with Message, Importing the surrender of those Lands Lost by his Father: with all Bonds of Law To our most valiant Brother. So much for him. Now for ourself, and for this time of meeting Thus much the business is. We have here writ To Norway, Uncle of young Fortinbras, Who Impotent and Bedrid, scarcely hears Of this his Nephew's purpose, to suppress His further gate herein. In that the Levies, The Lists, and full proportions are all made Out of his subject: and we here dispatch You good Cornelius, and you Voltimand, For bearing of this greeting to old Norway, Giving to you no further personal power To business with the King, more than the scope Of these dilated Articles allow: Farewell and let your haste commend your duty. In that, and all things, will we show our duty. We doubt it nothing, hearty farewell. And now Laertes, what's the news with you? You told us of some suit. What is't Laertes? You cannot speak of Reason to the Dane, And lose your voice. What wouldst thou beg Laertes, That shall not be my Offer, not thy Ask? The Head is not more Native to the Heart, The Hand more Instrumental to the Mouth, Then is the Throne of Denmark to thy Father. What wouldst thou have Laertes?
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)
It faded on the crowing of the Cocke. Some ſayes, that euer 'gainſt that Seaſon comes Wherein our Sauiours Birth is celebrated, The Bird of Dawning ſingeth all night long: And then (they ſay) no Spirit can walke abroad, The nights are wholſome, then no Planets ſtrike, No Faiery talkes, nor Witch hath power to Charme: So hallow'd, and ſo gracious is the time. So haue I heard, and do in part beleeue it. But looke, the Morne in Ruſſet mantle clad, Walkes o're the dew of you high Eaſterne Hill, Breake we our Watch vp, and by my aduice Let vs impart what we haue ſeene to night Vnto yong Hamlet. For vpon my life, This Spirit dumbe to vs, will ſpeake to him: Do you conſent we ſhall acquaint him with it, As needfull in our Loues, fitting our Duty? Let do't I pray, and I this morning know Where we ſhall finde him moſt conueniently. Though yet of Hamlet our deere Brothers death The memory be greene: and that it vs befitted To beare our hearts in greefe, and our whole Kingdome To be contracted in one brow of woe: Yet ſo farre hath Diſcretion fought with Nature, That we with wiſeſt ſorrow thinke on him, Together with remembrance of our ſelues. Therefore our ſometimes Siſter, now our Queen, Th' Imperiall Ioyntreſſe of this warlike State, Haue we, as 'twere, with a defeated ioy, With one Auſpicious, and one Dropping eye, With mirth in Funerall, and with Dirge in Marriage, In equall Scale weighing Delight and Dole Taken to Wife; nor haue we heerein barr'd Your better Wiſedomes, which haue freely gone With this affaire along, for all our Thankes. Now followes, that you know young Fortinbras, Holding a weake ſuppoſall of our worth; Or thinking by our late deere Brothers death, Our State to be diſioynt, and out of Frame, Colleagued with the dreame of his Aduantage; He hath not fayl'd to peſter vs with Meſſage, Importing the ſurrender of thoſe Lands Loſt by his Father: with all Bonds of Law To our moſt valiant Brother. So much for him. Now for our ſelfe, and for this time of meeting Thus much the buſineſſe is. We haue heere writ To Norway, Vncle of young Fortinbras, Who Impotent and Bedrid, ſcarſely heares Of this his Nephewes purpoſe, to ſuppreſſe His further gate heerein. In that the Leuies, The Liſts, and full proportions are all made Out of his ſubiect: and we heere diſpatch You good Cornelius, and you Voltemand, For bearing of this greeting to old Norway, Giuing to you no further perſonall power To buſineſſe with the King, more then the ſcope Of theſe dilated Articles allow: Farewell and let your haſt commend your duty. In that, and all things, will we ſhew our duty. We doubt it nothing, heartily farewell. And now Laertes, what's the newes with you? You told vs of ſome ſuite. What is't Laertes? You cannot ſpeake of Reaſon to the Dane, And looſe your voyce. What would'ſt thou beg Laertes, That ſhall not be my Offer, not thy Asking? The Head is not more Natiue to the Heart, The Hand more Inſtrumentall to the Mouth, Then is the Throne of Denmarke to thy Father. What would'ſt thou haue Laertes?