Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1601 [1600-1601] (Annals) tragedy · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men unassigned nearest T53 The crown: kingship claimed, resigned an · 488 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T53: crown, king, state, life, lord, lords, live, queen, tullia, prince.
My Lord, he hath importuned me with love, In honourable fashion. I, fashion you may call it, go too, go too. And hath given countenance to his speech, My Lord, with all the vows of Heaven. I, springs to catch Woodcocks. I do know When the Blood burns, how Prodigal the Soul Gives the tongue vows: these blazes, Daughter, Giving more light than heat; extinct in both, Even in their promise, as it is a making; You must not take for fire. For this time Daughter, Be somewhat scanter of your Maiden presence; Set your entreatments at a higher rate, Then a command to parley. For Lord Hamlet, Believe so much in him, that he is young, And with a larger tether may he walk, Then may be given you. In few, Ophelia, Do not believe his vows; for they are Brokers, Not of the eye, which their Inuestments show: But mere implorators of unholy Suits, Breathing like sanctified and pious bonds, The better to beguile. This is for all: I would not, in plain terms, from this time forth, Have you so slander any moment leisure, As to give words or talk with the Lord Hamlet: Look too't, I charge you; come your ways. I shall obey my Lord. The Air bites shrewdly: is it very cold? It is a nipping and an eager air. What hour now? I think it lacks of twelve. No, it is strooke. Indeed I heard it not: than it draws near the season, Wherein the Spirit held his wont to walk. What does this mean my Lord? The King doth wake to night, and takes his rouse, Keeps wassels and the swaggering upspring reels, And as he dreines his draughts of Rhenish down, The kettle Drum and Trumpet thus bray out The triumph of his Pledge. Is it a custom? I marry ist; And to my mind, though I am native here, And to the manner borne: It is a Custom More honoured in the breach, than the observance. Look my Lord, it comes. Angels and Ministers of Grace defend us: Be thou a Spirit of health, or Goblin damned, Bring with thee airs from Heaven, or blasts from Hell, Be thy events wicked or charitable, Thou comest in such a questionable shape That I will speak to thee. I'll call thee Hamlet, King, Father, Royal Dane: Oh, oh, answer me, Let me not burst in Ignorance; but tell Why thy Canonized bones Hearsed in death, Have burst their cerments, why the Sepulchre Wherein we saw thee quietly enurned, Hath oped his ponderous and Marble jaws, To cast thee up again? What may this mean? That thou dead Coarse again in complete steel, Revisits thus the glimpses of the Moon, Making Night hideous? And we fools of Nature, So horridly to shake our disposition, With thoughts beyond thee; reaches of our Souls, Say, why is this? wherefore? what should we do?
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)
My Lord, he hath importun'd me with loue, In honourable faſhion. I, faſhion you may call it, go too, go too. And hath giuen countenance to his ſpeech, My Lord, with all the vowes of Heauen. I, Springes to catch Woodcocks. I doe know When the Bloud burnes, how Prodigall the Soule Giues the tongue vowes: theſe blazes, Daughter, Giuing more light then heate; extinct in both, Euen in their promiſe, as it is a making; You muſt not take for fire. For this time Daughter, Be ſomewhat ſcanter of your Maiden preſence; Set your entreatments at a higher rate, Then a command to parley. For Lord Hamlet, Beleeue ſo much in him, that he is young, And with a larger tether may he walke, Then may be giuen you. In few, Ophelia, Doe not beleeue his vowes; for they are Broakers, Not of the eye, which their Inueſtments ſhow: But meere implorators of vnholy Sutes, Breathing like ſanctified and pious bonds, The better to beguile. This is for all: I would not, in plaine tearmes, from this time forth, Haue you ſo ſlander any moment leiſure, As to giue words or talke with the Lord Hamlet: Looke too't, I charge you; come your wayes. I ſhall obey my Lord. The Ayre bites ſhrewdly: is it very cold? It is a nipping and an eager ayre. What hower now? I thinke it lacks of twelue. No, it is ſtrooke. Indeed I heard it not: then it drawes neere the ſeaſon, Wherein the Spirit held his wont to walke. What does this meane my Lord? The King doth wake to night, and takes his rouſe, Keepes waſſels and the ſwaggering vpſpring reeles, And as he dreines his draughts of Reniſh downe, The kettle Drum and Trumpet thus bray out The triumph of his Pledge. Is it a cuſtome? I marry iſt; And to my mind, though I am natiue heere, And to the manner borne: It is a Cuſtome More honour'd in the breach, then the obſeruance. Looke my Lord, it comes. Angels and Miniſters of Grace defend vs: Be thou a Spirit of health, or Goblin damn'd, Bring with thee ayres from Heauen, or blaſts from Hell, Be thy euents wicked or charitable, Thou com'ſt in ſuch a queſtionable ſhape That I will ſpeake to thee. Ile call thee Hamlet, King, Father, Royall Dane: Oh, oh, anſwer me, Let me not burſt in Ignorance; but tell Why thy Canoniz'd bones Hearſed in death, Haue burſt their cerments, why the Sepulcher Wherein we ſaw thee quietly enurn'd▪ Hath op'd his ponderous and Marble iawes, To caſt thee vp againe? What may this meane? That thou dead Coarſe againe in compleat ſteele, Reuiſits thus the glimpſes of the Moone, Making Night hidious? And we fooles of Nature, So horridly to ſhake our diſpoſition, With thoughts beyond thee; reaches of our Soules, Say, why is this? wherefore? what ſhould we doe?