Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1605 [1605-1606] (Annals) tragedy · King's Men unassigned nearest T0 Court life: dukes, favour and honour · 524 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T0: duke, lord, duchess, love, court, madam, prince, honour, grace, lady.
I Thought the King had more affected the Duke of Albany, than Cornwall. It did always seem so to us: But now in the division of the Kingdom, it appears not which of the Dukes he values most, for qualities are so weighed, that curiosity in neither, can make choice of either's moiety. Is not this your Son, my Lord? His breeding Sir, hath been at my charge. I have so often blushed to acknowledge him, that now I am brazed too't. I cannot conceive you. Sir, this young Fellow's mother could; whereupon she grew round wombed, and had indeed (Sir) a Son for her Cradle, ere she had a husband for her bed. Do you smell a fault? I cannot wish the fault undone, the issue of it, being so proper. But I have a Son, Sir, by order of Law, some year elder than this; who, yet is no dearer in my account, though this Knave came something saucily to the world before he was sent for: yet was his Mother fair, there was good sport at his making, and the whoreson must be acknowledged. Do you know this Noble Gentleman, Edmond? No, my Lord. My Lord of Kent: Remember him hereafter, as my Honourable Friend. My services to your Lordship. I must love you, and sue to know you better. Sir, I shall study deserving. He hath been out nine years, and away he shall again. The King is coming. Attend the Lords of France & Burgundy, Gloster. I shall, my Lord. Mean time we shall express our darker purpose. Give me the Map there. Know, that we have divided In three our Kingdom: and 'tis our fast intent, To shake all Cares and Business from our Age, Conferring them on younger strengths, while we Unburdened crawl toward death. Our son of Cornwall, And you our no less loving Son of Albany, We have this hour a constant will to publish Our daughters several Dowers, that future strife May be prevented now. The Princes, France & Burgundy, Great Rivals in our youngest daughters love, Long in our Court, have made their amorous sojourn, And here are to be answered. Tell me my daughters (Since now we will diuest us both of Rule, Interest of Territory, Cares of State) Which of you shall we say doth love us most, That we, our largest bounty may extend Where Nature doth with merit challenge. Our eldest borne, speak first. Sir, I love you more than word can wield the matter, Dearer than eyesight, space, and liberty, Beyond what can be valued, rich or rare, No less than life, with grace, health, beauty, honour: As much as Child ere loved, or Father found. A love that makes breath poor, and speech unable, Beyond all manner of so much I love you. What shall Cordelia speak? Love, and be silent. Of all these bounds even from this Line, to this, With shadowy Forests, and with Champains riched With plenteous Rivers, and wide-skirted Meads We make thee Lady. To thine and Albanies' issues Be this perpetual. What says our second Daughter? Our dearest Regan, wife of Cornwall?
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)
I Thought the King had more affected the Duke of Albany, then Cornwall. It did alwayes ſeeme ſo to vs: But now in the diuiſion of the Kingdome, it appeares not which of the Dukes hee valewes moſt, for qualities are ſo weigh'd, that curioſity in neither, can make choiſe of eithers moity. Is not this your Son, my Lord? His breeding Sir, hath bin at my charge. I haue ſo often bluſh'd to acknowledge him, that now I am braz'd too't. I cannot conceiue you. Sir, this yong Fellowes mother could; wherevpon ſhe grew round womb'd, and had indeede (Sir) a Sonne for her Cradle, ere ſhe had a husband for her bed. Do you ſmell a fault? I cannot wiſh the fault vndone, the iſſue of it, being ſo proper. But I haue a Sonne, Sir, by order of Law, ſome yeere elder then this; who, yet is no deerer in my account, though this Knaue came ſomthing ſawcily to the world before he was ſent for: yet was his Mother fayre, there was good ſport at his making, and the horſon muſt be acknowledged. Doe you know this Noble Gentleman, Edmond? No, my Lord. My Lord of Kent: Remember him heereafter, as my Honourable Friend. My ſeruices to your Lordſhip. I muſt loue you, and ſue to know you better. Sir, I ſhall ſtudy deſeruing. He hath bin out nine yeares, and away he ſhall againe. The King is comming. Attend the Lords of France & Burgundy, Gloſter. I ſhall, my Lord. Meane time we ſhal expreſſe our darker purpoſe. Giue me the Map there. Know, that we haue diuided In three our Kingdome: and 'tis our faſt intent, To ſhake all Cares and Buſineſſe from our Age, Conferring them on yonger ſtrengths, while we Vnburthen'd crawle toward death. Our ſon of Cornwal, And you our no leſſe louing Sonne of Albany, We haue this houre a conſtant will to publiſh Our daughters ſeuerall Dowers, that future ſtrife May be preuented now. The Princes, France & Burgundy, Great Riuals in our yongeſt daughters loue, Long in our Court, haue made their amorous ſoiourne, And heere are to be anſwer'd. Tell me my daughters (Since now we will diueſt vs both of Rule, Intereſt of Territory, Cares of State) Which of you ſhall we ſay doth loue vs moſt, That we, our largeſt bountie may extend Where Nature doth with merit challenge. Our eldeſt borne, ſpeake firſt. Sir, I loue you more then word can weild ye matter, Deerer then eye-ſight, ſpace, and libertie, Beyond what can be valewed, rich or rare, No leſſe then life, with grace, health, beauty, honor: As much as Childe ere lou'd, or Father found. A loue that makes breath poore, and ſpeech vnable, Beyond all manner of ſo much I loue you. What ſhall Cordelia ſpeake? Loue, and be ſilent. Of all theſe bounds euen from this Line, to this, With ſhadowie Forreſts, and with Champains rich'd With plenteous Riuers, and wide-skirted Meades We make thee Lady. To thine and Albanies iſſues Be this perpetuall. What ſayes our ſecond Daughter? Our deereſt Regan, wife of Cornwall?