Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1605 [1605-1606] (Annals) tragedy · King's Men unassigned nearest T40 Sin, guilt and violent loss within famil · 456 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T40: brother, death, life, die, heaven, sin, live, father, blood, soul.
Kent banished thus? and France in choler parted? And the King gone to night? Prescribed his power, Confined to exhibition? All this done Upon the gad? Edmond, how now? What news? So please your Lordship, none. Why so earnestly seek you to put up that Letter? I know no news, my Lord. What Paper were you reading? Nothing my Lord. No? what needed then that terrible dispatch of it into your Pocket? The quality of nothing, hath not such need to hide itself. Let's see: come, if it be nothing, I shall not need Spectacles. I beseech you Sir, pardon me; it is a Letter from my Brother, that I have not all oreread; and for so much as I have perused, I find it not fit for your ore-looking. Give me the Letter, Sir. I shall offend, either to detain, or give it: The Contents, as in part I understand them. Are too blame. Let's see, let's see. I hope for my Brother's justification, he wrote this but as an essay, or taste of my Virtue. This policie, and reuerence of Age, makes the world bitter to the best of our times: keepes our Fortunes from vs, till our oldnesse cannot rellish them. I begin to finde an idle and fond bondage, in the oppression of aged tyranny, who swayes not as it hath power, but as it is suffer'd. Come to me, that of this I may speake more. If our Father would sleepe till I wak'd him, you should enioy halfe his Reuennew for euer, and liue the beloued of your Brother. Edgar. Hum? Conspiracy? Sleep till I wake him, you should enjoy half his Revennew: my Son Edgar, had he a hand to write this? A heart and brain to breed it in? When came you to this? Who brought it? It was not brought me, my Lord; there's the cunning of it. I found it thrown in at the Casement of my Closet. You know the character to be your Brothers? If the matter were good my Lord, I durst swear it were his: but in respect of that, I would fain think it were not. It is his. It is his hand, my Lord: but I hope his heart is not in the Contents. Has he never before sounded you in this business? Never my Lord. But I have heard him oft maintain it to be fit, that Sons at perfect age, and Fathers declined, the Father should be as Ward to the Son, and the Son manage his Revennew. O Villain, villain: his very opinion in the Letter. Abhorred Villain, unnatural, detested, brutish Villain; worse than brutish: Go sirrah, seek him: I'll apprehend him. Abominable Villain, where is he?
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)
Kent baniſh'd thus? and France in choller parted? And the King gone to night? Preſcrib'd his powre, Confin'd to exhibition? All this done Vpon the gad? Edmond, how now? What newes? So pleaſe your Lordſhip, none. Why ſo earneſtly ſeeke you to put vp yt Letter? I know no newes, my Lord. What Paper were you reading? Nothing my Lord. No? what needed then that terrible diſpatch of it into your Pocket? The quality of nothing, hath not ſuch neede to hide it ſelfe. Let's ſee: come, if it bee nothing, I ſhall not neede Spectacles. I beſeech you Sir, pardon mee; it is a Letter from my Brother, that I haue not all ore-read; and for ſo much as I haue perus'd, I finde it not fit for your ore-looking. Giue me the Letter, Sir. I ſhall offend, either to detaine, or giue it: The Contents, as in part I vnderſtand them. Are too blame. Let's ſee, let's ſee. I hope for my Brothers iuſtification, hee wrote this but as an eſſay, or taſte of my Vertue. This policie, and reuerence of Age, makes the world bitter to the beſt of our times: keepes our Fortunes from vs, till our oldneſſe cannot relliſh them. I begin to finde an idle and fond bondage, in the oppreſſion of aged tyranny, who ſwayes not as it hath power, but as it is ſuffer'd. Come to me, that of this I may ſpeake more. If our Father would ſleepe till I wak'd him, you ſhould enioy halfe his Reuennew for euer, and liue the beloued of your Brother. Edgar. Hum? Conſpiracy? Sleepe till I wake him, you ſhould enioy halfe his Reuennew: my Sonne Edgar, had hee a hand to write this? A heart and braine to breede it in? When came you to this? Who brought it? It was not brought mee, my Lord; there's the cunning of it. I found it throwne in at the Caſement of my Cloſſet. You know the character to be your Brothers? If the matter were good my Lord, I durſt ſwear it were his: but in reſpect of that, I would faine thinke it were not. It is his. It is his hand, my Lord: but I hope his heart is not in the Contents. Has he neuer before ſounded you in this buſines? Neuer my Lord. But I haue heard him oft maintaine it to be fit, that Sonnes at perfect age, and Fathers declin'd, the Father ſhould bee as Ward to the Son, and the Sonne manage his Reuennew. O Villain, villain: his very opinion in the Letter. Abhorred Villaine, vnnaturall, deteſted, brutiſh Villaine; worſe then brutiſh: Go ſirrah, ſeeke him: Ile apprehend him. Abhominable Villaine, where is he?