Shakespeare, William · published 1608 · first performed or written 1605 [1605-1606] (Annals) tragedy · King's Men · before the Court T1 Death, grief and revenge typicality 0.81 · 512 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
Gone sir, farewell, and yet I know not how conceit my rob the treasury of life, when life itself yealds to the theft, had he been where he thought by this had thought been past, alive or dead, ho you sir, hear you sir, speak, thus might he pass indeed, yet he revives, what are you sir? Away and let me die. Hadst thou been aught but gosmore feathers air, So many fathom down precipitating Thou hadst shiverd like an egg, but thou dost breathe Hast heavy substance, bleedst not, speakest, art sound, Ten masts at each, make not the altitude, Which thou hast perpendicularly fell, Thy life's a miracle, speak yet again. But have I fallen or no I From the dread summons of this chalky borne, Look up a height, the shrill gorged lark so far Cannot be seen or heard, do but look up? Alack I have no eyes Is wretchedness deprived, that benefit To end itself by death 'twas yet some comfort When misery could beguile the tyrant's rage And frustrate his proud will. Give me your arm? Up, so, how feel you your legs, you stand. Too well, too well. This is above all strangeness Upon the crown of the cliff what thing was that Which parted from you. A poor unfortunate bagger. As I stood here below me thoughts his eyes Were two full Moons, a had a thousand noses Horns, welk't and waved like the enridged sea, It was some fiend, therefore thou happy father Think that the clearest Gods, who made their honours Of men's impossibilities, have preserved thee. I do remember now henceforth i'll bear Affliction till it do cry out itself Enough, enough and die that thing you speak of, I took it for a man, often would it say The fiend the fiend, he led me to that place Bare free & patiented thoughts, but who comes here The safer sense will near accommodate his master thus. No they cannot touch me for coining, I am the king himself. O thou side piercing sight. Nature is above Art in that respect, there's your press money, that fellow handles his bow like a crow-keeper, draw me a clothiers yard, look, look a mouse, peace, peace, this toasted cheese will do it there's my gauntlet, i'll prove it on a giant, bring up the browne-billes, O well flown bird in the air, hagh, give the word? Sweet Margerum. Pass. I know that voice. Ha Goneril, ha Regan, they flattered me like a dog, and told me I had white hairs in my beard, ere the black ones were there, to say I and no, to every thing I said, I and no toe, was no good divinity, when the rain came to wet me once, and the wind to make me chatter, when the thunder would not peace at my bidding, there I found them, there I smelled them out, go toe, they are not men of their words, they told me I was every thing, 'tis a lie, I am not argue-proofe.
before the Court;Globe;Whitehall;Outdoor Professional
Genre (British Drama)
tragedy
Play type
Adult Professional;Professional
Edition / TCP / DEEP
edition 623 · TCP A11978 · DEEP 517
Edition role
Representative edition — used in the analysis
Position
nodes 1713–1757 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 38 of 49 in this edition
Length
512 words · 681 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T1 — Death, grief and revengecross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.807 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
seed 43: T10 · seed 44: T1 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Gon sir, farewell, and yet I know not how conceit my robbe the treasurie of life, when life it selfe yealds to the theft, had he beene where he thought by this had thought beene past, aliue or dead, ho you sir, heare you sir, speak, thus might he passe indeed, yet he reuiues, what are you sir? Away and let me die. Hadst thou beene ought but gosmore feathers ayre, So many fadome downe precipitating Thou hadst shiuerd like an egge, but thou dost breath Hast heauy substance, bleedst not, speakest, art sound, Ten masts at each, make not the altitude, VVhich thou hast perpendicularly fell, Thy lifes a miracle, speake yet againe. But haue I fallen or no I From the dread sommons of this chalkie borne, Looke vp a hight, the shrill gorg'd larke so farre Cannot bee seene or heard, doe but looke vp? Alack I haue no eyes Is wretchednes depriu'd, that benefit To end it selfe by death twas yet some comfort When misery could beguile the tyrants rage And frustrate his proud will. Giue me your arme? Vp, so, how feele you your legges, you stand. Too well, too well. This is aboue all strangenes Vpon the crowne of the cliffe what thing was that Which parted from you. A poore vnfortunate bagger. As I stood here below me thoughts his eyes VVere two full Moones, a had a thousand noses Hornes, welk't and waued like the enridged sea, It was some fiend, therefore thou happy father Thinke that the cleerest Gods, who made their honours Of mens impossibilities, haue preserued thee. I doe remember now henceforth ile beare Affliction till it doe crie out it selfe Enough, enough and die that thing you speake of, I tooke it for a man, often would it say The fiend the fiend, he led me to that place Bare free & patient thoughts, but who comes here The safer sence will neare accōmodate his maister thus. No they cannot touch mee for coyning, I am the king himselfe. O thou side pearcing sight. Nature is aboue Art in that respect, ther's your presse money, that fellow handles his bow like a crow-keeper, draw me a clothiers yard, looke, looke a mowse, peace, peace, this tosted cheese will do it ther's my gauntlet, ile proue it on a gyant, bring vp the browne-billes, O well flowne bird in the ayre, hagh, giue the word? Sweet Margerum. Passe. I know that voyce. Ha Gonorill, ha Regan, they flattered mee like a dogge, and tould me I had white haires in my beard, ere the black ones were there, to say I and no, to euery thing I saide, I and no toe, was no good diuinitie, when the raine came to wet me once, and the winde to make mee chatter, when the thunder would not peace at my bidding, there I found them, there I smelt them out, goe toe, they are not men of their words, they told mee I was euery thing, tis a lye, I am not argue-proofe.