Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1605 [1605-1606] (Annals) tragedy · King's Men unassigned nearest T35 Fools, wit and railing · 460 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T35: fool, wit, aristippus, achilles, wise, fools, patroclus, thersites, master, men.
Lears shadow. Your name, fair Gentlewoman? This admiration Sir, is much o' th' savour Of other your new pranks. I do beseech you To understand my purposes aright: As you are Old, and Reverend, should be Wise. here do you keep a hundred Knights and Squires, Men so disordered, so deboshed, and bold, That this our Court infected with their manners, Shows like a riotous Inn; Epicurisme and Lust Makes it more like a Tavern, or a Brothel, Then a graced Palace. The shame itself doth speak For instant remedy. Be then desired By her, that else will take the thing she begs, A little to disquantity your Train, And the remainders that shall still depend, To be such men as may besort your Age, Which know themselves, and you. Darkness, and Devils. Saddle my horses: call my Train together. Degenerate Bastard, I'll not trouble thee; Yet have I left a daughter. You strike my people, and your disordered rabble, make Servants of their Betters. Woe, that too late reputes: Is it your will, speak Sir? Prepare my Horses. Ingratitude! thou Marble-hearted Fiend, More hideous when thou show'st thee in a Child, Then the Sea-monster. Pray Sir be patiented. Detested Kite, thou liest. My Train are men of choice, and rarest parts, That all particulars of duty know, And in the most exact regard, support The worships of their name. O most small fault, How ugly didst thou in Cordelia show? Which like an Engine, wrenched my frame of Nature From the fixed place: drew from my heart all love, And added to the gall. O Lear, Lear, Lear! Beat at this gate that let thy Folly in, And thy dear judgement out. Go, go, my people. My Lord, I am guiltless, as I am ignorant Of what hath moved you. It may be so, my Lord. Hear Nature, hear dear Goddess, hear: Suspend thy purpose, if thou didst intent To make this Creature fruitful: Into her Womb convey stirrility, Dry up in her the Organs of increase, And from her derogate body, never spring A Babe to honour her. If she must teem, Create her child of Spleen, that it may live And be a thwart disnatur'd torment to her. Let it stamp wrinkles in her brow of youth, With cadent Tears fret Channels in her cheeks, Turn all her Mother's pains, and benefits To laughter, and contempt: That she may feel, How sharper than a Serpent's tooth it is, To have a thankless Child. Away, away. Now Gods that we adore, Whereof comes this? Never afflict yourself to know more of it: But let his disposition have that scope As dotage gives it. What fifty of my Followers at a clap? Within a fortnight? What's the matter, Sir?
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)
Lears ſhadow. Your name, faire Gentlewoman? This admiration Sir, is much o' th' ſauour Of other your new prankes. I do beſeech you To vnderſtand my purpoſes aright: As you are Old, and Reuerend, ſhould be Wiſe. Heere do you keepe a hundred Knights and Squires, Men ſo diſorder'd, ſo deboſh'd, and bold, That this our Court infected with their manners, Shewes like a riotous Inne; Epicuriſme and Luſt Makes it more like a Tauerne, or a Brothell, Then a grac'd Pallace. The ſhame it ſelfe doth ſpeake For inſtant remedy. Be then deſir'd By her, that elſe will take the thing ſhe begges, A little to diſquantity your Traine, And the remainders that ſhall ſtill depend, To be ſuch men as may beſort your Age, Which know themſelues, and you. Darkneſſe, and Diuels. Saddle my horſes: call my Traine together. Degenerate Baſtard, Ile not trouble thee; Yet haue I left a daughter. You ſtrike my people, and your diſorder'd rable, make Seruants of their Betters. Woe, that too late repents: Is it your will, ſpeake Sir? Prepare my Horſes. Ingratitude! thou Marble-hearted Fiend, More hideous when thou ſhew'ſt thee in a Child, Then the Sea-monſter. Pray Sir be patient. Deteſted Kite, thou lyeſt. My Traine are men of choice, and rareſt parts, That all particulars of dutie know, And in the moſt exact regard, ſupport The worſhips of their name. O moſt ſmall fault, How vgly did'ſt thou in Cordelia ſhew? Which like an Engine, wrencht my frame of Nature From the fixt place: drew from my heart all loue, And added to the gall. O Lear, Lear, Lear! Beate at this gate that let thy Folly in, And thy deere Iudgement out. Go, go, my people. My Lord, I am guiltleſſe, as I am ignorant Of what hath moued you. It may be ſo, my Lord. Heare Nature, heare deere Goddeſſe, heare: Suſpend thy purpoſe, if thou did'ſt intend To make this Creature fruitfull: Into her Wombe conuey ſtirrility, Drie vp in her the Organs of increaſe, And from her derogate body, neuer ſpring A Babe to honor her. If ſhe muſt teeme, Create her childe of Spleene, that it may liue And be a thwart diſnatur'd torment to her. Let it ſtampe wrinkles in her brow of youth, With cadent Teares fret Channels in her cheekes, Turne all her Mothers paines, and benefits To laughter, and contempt: That ſhe may feele, How ſharper then a Serpents tooth it is, To haue a thankleſſe Childe. Away, away. Now Gods that we adore, Whereof comes this? Neuer afflict your ſelfe to know more of it: But let his diſpoſition haue that ſcope As dotage giues it. What fiftie of my Followers at a clap? Within a fortnight? What's the matter, Sir?