Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1605 [1605-1606] (Annals) tragedy · King's Men unassigned nearest T52 Prodigals, portions and poor kin · 493 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T52: brother, father, uncle, cousin, son, poor, bread, old, given, master.
No marvel then, though he were ill affected, 'Tis they have put him on the old man's death, To have th' expense and waist of his Revenues: I have this present evening from my Sister Been well informed of them, and with such cautions, That if they come to sojourn at my house, I'll not be there. Nor I, assure thee Regan; Edmund, I hear that you have shown your Father A Childlike Office. It was my duty Sir. He did bewray his practice, and received This hurt you see, striving to apprehend him. Is he pursued? I my good Lord. If he be taken, he shall never more Be feared of doing harm, make your own purpose, How in my strength you please: for you Edmund, Whose virtue and obedience doth this instant So much commend itself, you shall be ours, Nature's of such deep trust, we shall much need: You we first seize on. I shall serve you Sir truly, how ever else. For him I thank your Grace. You know not why we came to visit you? Thus out of season, thredding dark eyed night, Occasions Noble Gloster of some prize, Wherein we must have use of your advice. Our Father he hath writ, so hath our Sister, Of differences, which I best though it fit To answer from our home: the several Messengers From hence attend dispatch, our good old Friend, Lay comforts to your bosom, and bestow Your needful counsel to our businesses, Which craves the instant use. I serve you Madam, Your Graces are right welcome. Good dawning to thee Friend, art of this house? I. Where may we set our horses? I' th' mire. Prithee, if thou lov'st me, tell me. I love thee not. Why then I care not for thee. If I had thee in Lipsbury Pinfold, I would make thee care for me. Why dost thou use me thus? I know thee not. Fellow I know thee. What dost thou know me for? A Knave, a Rascal, an eater of broken meats, a base, proud, shallow, beggarly, three-suited-hundred pound, filthy woostedstocking knave, a Lilly-liuered, action-taking, whoreson glasse-gazing super-seruiceable finical Rogue, one Trunke-inheriting slave, one that wouldst be a Bawd in way of good service, and art nothing but the composition of a Knave, Beggar, Coward, Pandarus, and the Son and Heir of a Mongrel Bitch, one whom I will beat into clamours whining, if thou deniest the least syllable of thy addition. Why, what a monstrous Fellow art thou, thus to rail on one, that is neither known of thee, nor knows thee? What a brazen-faced Varlet art thou, to deny thou knowest me? Is it two days since I tripped up thy heels, and beat thee before the King? Draw you rogue, for though it be night, yet the Moon shines, I'll make a sop o'th' Moonshine of you, you whoreson Cullyenly Barber-monger, draw. Away, I have nothing to do with thee.
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)
No maruaile then, though he were ill affected, 'Tis they haue put him on the old mans death, To haue th' expence and waſt of his Reuenues: I haue this preſent euening from my Siſter Beene well inform'd of them, and with ſuch cautions, That if they come to ſoiourne at my houſe, Ile not be there. Nor I, aſſure thee Regan; Edmund, I heare that you haue ſhewne your Father A Child-like Office. It was my duty Sir. He did bewray his practiſe, and receiu'd This hurt you ſee, ſtriuing to apprehend him. Is he purſued? I my good Lord. If he be taken, he ſhall neuer more Be fear'd of doing harme, make your owne purpoſe, How in my ſtrength you pleaſe: for you Edmund, Whoſe vertue and obedience doth this inſtant So much commend it ſelfe, you ſhall be ours, Nature's of ſuch deepe truſt, we ſhall much need: You we firſt ſeize on. I ſhall ſerue you Sir truely, how euer elſe. For him I thanke your Grace. You know not why we came to viſit you? Thus out of ſeaſon, thredding darke ey'd night, Occaſions Noble Gloſter of ſome prize, Wherein we muſt haue vſe of your aduiſe. Our Father he hath writ, ſo hath our Siſter, Of differences, which I beſt though it fit To anſwere from our home: the ſeuerall Meſſengers From hence attend diſpatch, our good old Friend, Lay comforts to your boſome, and beſtow Your needfull counſaile to our buſineſſes, Which craues the inſtant vſe. I ſerue you Madam, Your Graces are right welcome. Good dawning to thee Friend, art of this houſe? I. Where may we ſet our horſes? I' th' myre. Prythee, if thou lou'ſt me, tell me. I loue thee not. Why then I care not for thee. If I had thee in Lipsbury Pinfold, I would make thee care for me. Why do'ſt thou vſe me thus? I know thee not. Fellow I know thee. What do'ſt thou know me for? A Knaue, a Raſcall, an eater of broken meates, a baſe, proud, ſhallow, beggerly, three-ſuited-hundred pound, filthy wooſted-ſtocking knaue, a Lilly-liuered, action-taking, whoreſon glaſſe-gazing ſuper-ſeruiceable finicall Rogue, one Trunke-inheriting ſlaue, one that would'ſt be a Baud in way of good ſeruice, and art nothing but the compoſition of a Knaue, Begger, Coward, Pandar, and the Sonne and Heire of a Mungrill Bitch, one whom I will beate into clamours whining, if thou deny'ſt the leaſt ſillable of thy addition. Why, what a monſtrous Fellow art thou, thus to raile on one, that is neither knowne of thee, nor knowes thee? What a brazen-fac'd Varlet art thou, to deny thou knoweſt me? Is it two dayes ſince I tript vp thy heeles, and beate thee before the King? Draw you rogue, for though it be night, yet the Moone ſhines, Ile make a ſop oth' Moonſhine of you, you whoreſon Cullyenly Barber-monger, draw. Away, I haue nothing to do with thee.