Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1605 [1605-1606] (Annals) tragedy · King's Men T0 Court life: dukes, favour and honour typicality 0.84 · 496 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.
Oh how this Mother swells up toward my heart! Historica passio, down thou climbing sorrow, Thy Elements below where is this Daughter? With the Earl Sir, here within. Fellow me not, stay here. Made you no more offence, But what you speak of? None: How chance the the King comes with so small a number? And thou hadst been set i' th' Stocks for that question, thoud'st well deserved it. Why Fool? we'll set thee to school to an Ant, to teach thee there's no labouring i' th' winter. All that follow their noses, are led by their eyes, but blind men, and there's not a nose among twenty, but can smell him that's stinking; let go thy hold, when a great wheel runs down a hill, lest it break thy neck with following. But the great one that goes upward, let him draw thee after: when a wiseman gives thee better counsel give me mine again, I would house none but knaves follow it, since a Fool gives it. That Sir, which serves and seeks for gain, And follows but for form; Will pack, when it begins to rain, And leave thee in the storm, But I will tarry, the Fool will stay, And let the wiseman fly: The knave turns Fool that runs away, The Fool no knave perdie. Where learned you this Fool? Not i' th' Stocks Foole. Deny to speak with me? They are sick, they are weary, They have travailed all the night? mere fetches, The images of revolt and flying off. Fetch me a better answer. My dear Lord, You know the fiery quality of the Duke, How unremovable and fixed he is In his own course. Vengeance, Plague, Death, Confusion: Fiery? What quality? Why Gloster, Gloster, I'd speak with the Duke of Cornwall, and his wife. Well my good Lord, I have informed them so. Informed them? Dost thou understand me man. I my good Lord. The King would speak with Cornwall, The dear Father Would with his Daughter speak, commands, tends, service, Are they informed of this? My breath and blood: Fiery? The fiery Duke, tell the hot Duke that— No, but not yet, may be he is not well, Infirmity doth still neglect all office, Whereto our health is bound, we are not ourselves, When Nature being oppressed, commands the mind To suffer with the body; I'll forbear, And am fallen out with my more headier will, To take the indisposed and sickly fit, For the sound man. Death on my state: wherefore Should he sit here? This act persuades me, That this emotion of the Duke and her Is practise only. Give me my Servant forth; Go tell the Duke, and's wife, I'd speak with them: Now, presently: bid them come forth and hear me, Or at their Chamber door I'll beat the Drum, Till it cry sleep to death. I would have all well betwixt you. Oh me my heart! My rising heart! But down.
Other edition — placed after the fit, excluded from the main statistics
Position
nodes 1029–1087 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 20 of 46 in this edition
Length
496 words · 665 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T0 — Court life: dukes, favour and honourcross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.840 (cosine to the topic centroid) · placed after the fit (approximate_predict), not counted in the topic statistics
Other seeds
seed 43: T0 · seed 44: T0 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Oh how this Mother ſwels vp toward my heart! Hiſtorica paſſio, downe thou climing ſorrow, Thy Elements below where is this Daughter? Wirh the Earle Sir, here within. Follow me not, ſtay here. Made you no more offence, But what you ſpeake of? None: How chance the the King comes with ſo ſmall a number? And thou hadſt beene ſet i' th' Stockes for that queſtion, thoud'ſt well deſeru'd it. Why Foole? Wee'l ſet thee to ſchoole to an Ant, to teach thee ther's no labouring i' th' winter. All that follow their noſes, are led by their eyes, but blinde men, and there's not a noſe among twenty, but can ſmell him that's ſtinking; let go thy hold, when a great wheele runs downe a hill, leaſt it breake thy necke with following. But the great one that goes vpward, let him draw thee after: when a wiſeman giues thee better counſell giue me mine againe, I would hause none but knaues follow it, ſince a Foole giues it. That Sir, which ſerues and ſeekes for gaine, And followes but for forme; Will packe, when it begins to raine, And leaue thee in the ſtorme, But I will tarry, the Foole will ſtay, And let the wiſeman flie: The knaue turnes Foole that runnes away, The Foole no knaue perdie. Where learn'd you this Foole? Not i' th' Stocks Foole. Deny to ſpeake with me? They are ſicke, they are weary, They haue trauail'd all the night? meere fetches, The images of reuolt and flying off. Fetch me a better anſwer. My deere Lord, You know the fiery quality of the Duke, How vnremoueable and fixt he is In his owne courſe. Vengeance, Plague, Death, Confuſion: Fiery? What quality? Why Gloſter▪ Gloſter, I'ld ſpeake with the Duke of Cornewall, and his wife. Well my good Lord, I haue inform'd them ſo. Inform'd them? Do'ſt thou vnderſtand me man. I my good Lord. The King would ſpeake with Cornwall, The deere Father Would with his Daughter ſpeake, commands, tends, ſeruice, Are they inform'd of this? My breath and blood: Fiery? The fiery Duke, tell the hot Duke that — No, but not yet, may be he is not well, Infirmity doth ſtill neglect all office, Whereto our health is bound, we are not our ſelues, When Nature being oppreſt, commands the mind To ſuffer with the body; Ile forbeare, And am fallen out with my more headier will, To take the indiſpos'd and ſickly fit, For the ſound man. Death on my ſtate: wherefore Should he ſit heere? This act perſwades me, That this emotion of the Duke and her Is practiſe only. Giue me my Seruant forth; Goe tell the Duke, and's wife, Il'd ſpeake with them: Now, preſently: bid them come forth and heare me, Or at their Chamber doore Ile beate the Drum, Till it crie ſleepe to death. I would haue all well betwixt you. Oh me my heart! My riſing heart! But downe.