Shakespeare, William · published 1608 · first performed or written 1605 [1605-1606] (Annals) tragedy · King's Men · before the Court unassigned nearest T14 Royal love, favour and dynastic relation · 484 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T14: prince, princess, love, king, lord, queen, madam, grace, lady, life.
Then beet so, my good Lord how does the king. Madam sleeps still. O you kind Gods cure this great breach in his abused nature, The untund and hurrying senses, O wind up Of this child changed father. So please your Majesty that we may wake the king, He hath slept long. Be governed by your knowledge and proceed, Ith' sway of your own will is he arrayed, I madam, in the heaviness of his sleep, We put fresh garments on him, Good madam be by, when we do awake him I doubt not of his temperance. Very well. Please you draw near, louder the music there, O my dear father restoration hang thy medicine on my lips, And let this kiss repair those violent harms that my two sisters Have in thy reverence made. Kind and dear Princess, Had you not been their father these white flakes, Had challengd pity of them, was this a face To be exposed against the warring winds, To stand against the deep dread bolted thunder, In the most terrible and nimble stroke Of quick cross lightning to watch poor Perdu, With this thin helm mine injurious dog, Though he had bit me, should have stood that night Against my fire, and wast thou feign poor father, To hovel thee with swine and rogues forlorn, In short and musty straw, alack, alack, 'tis wonder that thy life and wits at once Had not concluded all, he wakes speak to him. Madam do you, 'tis fittest. How does my royal Lord, how fares your majesty. You do me wrong to take me out ath grave, Thou art a soul in bliss, but I am bound Upon a wheel of fire, that mine own tears Do scald like molten lead. Sir know me. you're a spirit I know, where did you die. Still, still, far wide. he's scarce awake, let him alone a while. Where have I been, where am I fair day light, I am mightily abused, I should even die with pity, To see another thus, I know not what to say, I will not swear these are my hands, let's see, I feel this pin prick, would I were assured of my condition. O look upon me sir, and hold your hands in benediction o'er me, no sir you must not kneel. Pray do not mock, I am a very foolish fond old man, Fourscore and upward, and to deal plainly I fear I am not in my perfect mind, Me thinks I should know you, and know this man; Yet I am doubtful, for I am mainly ignorant What place this is, and all the skill I have Remembers not these garments, nor I know not Where I did lodge last night, do not laugh at me, For as I am a man, I think this Lady To be my child Cordelia. And so I am.
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)
Then beet so, my good Lord how does the king. Madame sleepes still. O you kind Gods cure this great breach in his abused nature, The vntund and hurrying sences, O wind vp Of this child changed father. So please your Maiestie that we may wake the king, He hath slept long. Be gouernd by your knowledge and proceed, Ith sway of your owne will is he arayd, I madam, in the heauinesse of his sleepe, We put fresh garments on him, Good madam be by, when we do awake him I doubt not of his temperance. Very well. Please you draw neere, louder the musicke there, O my deer father restoratiō hang thy medicin on my lips, And let this kis repaire those violent harmes that my two sisters Haue in thy reuerence made. Klnd and deere Princesse, Had you not bene their father these white flakes, Had challengd pitie of them, was this a face To be exposd against the warring winds, To stand against the deepe dread bolted thunder, In the most terrible and nimble stroke Of quick crosse lightning to watch poore Perdu, With this thin helme mine iniurious dogge, Though he had bit me, should haue stood that night Against my fire, and wast thou faine poore father, To houill thee with swine and rogues forlorne, In short and mustie straw, alack, alack, Tis wonder that thy life and wits at once Had not concluded all, he wakes speake to him. Madam do you, tis fittest. How does my royall Lord, how fares your maiestie. You do me wrong to take me out ath graue, Thou art a soule in blisse, but I am bound Vpon a wheele of fire, that mine owne teares Do scald like molten lead. Sir know me. Yar a spirit I know, where did you dye. Still, still, farre wide. Hees scarce awake, let him alone a while. Where haue I bene, where am I faire day light, I am mightily abusd, I should ene dye with pitie, To see another thus, I know not what to say, I will not sweare these are my hands, lets see, I feele this pin pricke, would I were assur'd of my condition. O looke vpon me sir, and hold your hands in benediction or'e me, no sir you must not kneele. Pray doe not mocke, I am a very foolish fond old man, Fourescore and vpward, and to deale plainly I feare I am not in my perfect mind, Mee thinks I should know you, and know this man; Yet I am doubtfull, for I am mainly ignorant What place this is, and all the skill I haue Remembers not these garments, nor I know not Where I did lodge last night, doe not laugh at me, For as I am a man, I thinke this Ladie To be my child Cordelia. And so I am.