Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1605 [1605-1606] (Annals) tragedy · King's Men T0 Court life: dukes, favour and honour typicality 0.75 · 508 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T0: duke, lord, duchess, love, court, madam, prince, honour, grace, lady.
What canst tell Boy? She will taste as like this as, a Crab does to a Crab: thou canst tell why one's nose stands i' th' middle on's face? No. Why to keep one's eyes of either side's nose, that what a man cannot smell out, he may spy into. I did her wrong. Canst tell how an Oyster makes his shell? No. Nor I neither; but I can tell why a Snail has a house. Why? Why to put's head in, not to give it away to his daughters, and leave his horns without a case. I will forget my Nature, so kind a Father? Be my Horses ready? Thy Asses are gone about 'em; the reason why the seven Stars are no more than seven, is a pretty reason. Because they are not eight. Yes indeed, thou wouldst make a good Foole. To take't again perforce; Monster Ingratitude! If thou wert my Fool Nuncle, I'd have thee beaten for being old before thy time. How's that? Thou shouldst not have been old, till thou hadst been wise. O let me not be mad, not mad sweet Heaven: keep me in temper, I would not be mad. How now are the Horses ready? Ready my Lord. Come Boy. She that's a Maid now, & laughs at my departure, Shall not be a Maid long, unless things be cut shorter. Save thee Curan. And your Sir, I have been With your Father, and given him notice That the Duke of Cornwall, and Regan his Duchess Will be here with him this night. How comes that? Nay I know not, you have heard of the news abroad, I mean the whispered ones, for they are yet but ear-kissing arguments. Not I: pray you what are they? Have you heard of no likely Wars toward, 'Twixt the Dukes of Cornwall, and Albany? Not a word. You may do then in time, Far you well Sir. The Duke be here to night? The better best, This weaves itself perforce into my business, My Father hath set guard to take my Brother, And I have one thing of a queasy question Which I must act, briefness, and Fortune work. Brother, a word, descend; Brother I say, My Father watches: O Sir, fly this place, Intelligence is given where you are hid; You have now the good advantage of the night, Have you not spoken 'gainst the Duke of Cornwall? he's coming hither, now i' th' night, i' th' haste, And Regan with him, have you nothing said Upon his party 'gainst the Duke of Albany? Advise yourself. I am sure on't, not a word. I hear my Father coming, pardon me: In cunning, I must draw my Sword upon you: Draw, seem to defend yourself, Now quit you well. Yield, come before my Father, light hoa, here, Fly Brother, Torch's, Torch's, so farewell. Some blood drawn on me, would beget opinion Of my more fierce endeavour. I have seen drunkards Do more than this in sport; Father, Father, Stop, stop, no help?
Other edition — placed after the fit, excluded from the main statistics
Position
nodes 655–715 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 14 of 46 in this edition
Length
508 words · 679 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T0 — Court life: dukes, favour and honourcross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.752 (cosine to the topic centroid) · placed after the fit (approximate_predict), not counted in the topic statistics
Other seeds
seed 43: T0 · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
What can'ſt tell Boy? She will taſte as like this as, a Crabbe do's to a Crab: thou canſt tell why ones noſe ſtands i' th' middle on's face? No. Why to keepe ones eyes of either ſide's noſe, that what a man cannot ſmell out, he may ſpy into. I did her wrong. Can'ſt tell how an Oyſter makes his ſhell? No. Nor I neither; but I can tell why a Snaile ha's a houſe. Why? Why to put's head in, not to giue it away to his daughters, and leaue his hornes without a caſe. I will forget my Nature, ſo kind a Father? Be my Horſſes ready? Thy Aſſes are gone about 'em; the reaſon why the ſeuen Starres are no mo then ſeuen, is a pretty reaſon. Becauſe they are not eight. Yes indeed, thou would'ſt make a good Foole. To tak't againe perforce; Monſter Ingratitude! If thou wert my Foole Nunckle, Il'd haue thee beaten for being old before thy time. How's that? Thou ſhouldſt not haue bin old, till thou hadſt bin wiſe. O let me not be mad, not mad ſweet Heauen▪ keepe me in temper, I would not be mad. How now are the Horſes ready? Ready my Lord. Come Boy. She that's a Maid now, & laughs at my departure, Shall not be a Maid long, vnleſſe things be cut ſhorter. Saue thee Curan. And your Sir, I haue bin With your Father, and giuen him notice That the Duke of Cornwall, and Regan his Ducheſſe Will be here with him this night. How comes that? Nay I know not, you haue heard of the newes abroad, I meane the whiſper'd ones, for they are yet but ear-kiſſing arguments. Not I: pray you what are they? Haue you heard of no likely Warres toward, 'Twixt the Dukes of Cornwall, and Albany? Not a word. You may do then in time, Fare you well Sir. The Duke be here to night? The better beſt, This weaues it ſelfe perforce into my buſineſſe, My Father hath ſet guard to take my Brother, And I haue one thing of a queazie queſtion Which I muſt act, Briefeneſſe, and Fortune worke. Brother, a word, diſcend; Brother I ſay, My Father watches: O Sir, fly this place, Intelligence is giuen where you are hid; You haue now the good aduantage of the night, Haue you not ſpoken 'gainſt the Duke of Cornewall? Hee's comming hither, now i' th' night, i' th' haſte, And Regan with him, haue you nothing ſaid Vpon his partie 'gainſt the Duke of Albany? Aduiſe your ſelfe. I am ſure on't, not a word. I heare my Father comming, pardon me: In cunning, I muſt draw my Sword vpon you: Draw, ſeeme to defend your ſelfe, Now quit you well. Yeeld, come before my Father, light hoa, here, Fly Brother, Torches, Torches, ſo farewell. Some blood drawne on me, would beget opinion Of my more fierce endeauour. I haue ſeene drunkards Do more then this in ſport▪ Father, Father, Stop, ſtop, no helpe?