Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1605 [1605-1606] (Annals) tragedy · King's Men unassigned nearest T41 Household service: masters, doors and po · 497 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T41: master, house, door, iohn, old, mistress, basket, lord, gentleman, ick.
Why might not you my Lord, receive attendance From those that she calls Servants, or from mine? Why not my Lord? If then they chanced to slack ye, We could control them; if you will come to me, (For now I spie danger) I entreat you To bring but five and twenty, to no more Will I give place or notice. I gave you all. And in good time you gave it. Made you my Guardians, my Depositaries, But kept a reservation to be followed With such a number? What, must I come to you With five and twenty? Regan, said you so? And speak't again my Lord, no more with me. Those wicked Creatures yet do look well favoured When others are more wicked, not being the worst Stands in some rank of praise, I'll go with thee, Thy fifty yet doth double five and twenty, And thou art twice her Love.. Hear me my Lord; What need you five and twenty? Ten? Or five? To follow in a house, where twice so many Have a command to tend you? What need one? O reason not the need: our basest Beggars Are in the poorest thing superfluous, Allow not Nature, more than Nature needs: Man's life is cheap as Beasts. Thou art a Lady; If only to go warm were gorgeous, Why Nature needs not what thou gorgeous wear'st, Which scarcely keeps thee warm, but for true need: You Heavens, give me that patience, patience I need, You see me here (you Gods) a poor old man, As full of grief as age, wretched in both, If it be you that stirs these Daughter's hearts Against their Father, fool me not so much, To bear it tamely: touch me with Noble anger, And let not women's weapons, water drops, Stain my man's cheeks. No you unnatural Hags, I will have such revenges on you both, That all the world shall— I will do such things, What they are yet, I know not, but they shallbe The terrors of the earth? you think I'll weep, No, I'll not weep, I have full cause of weeping. But this heart shall break into a hundred thousand flaws Or ere I'll weep: O Fool, I shall go mad. Let us withdraw, 'twill be a Storm. This house is little, the old man an'ds people, Cannot be well bestowed. 'Tis his own blame hath put himself from rest, And must needs taste his folly. For his particular, I'll receive him gladly, But not one follower. So am I purposed, Where is my Lord of Gloster? Followed the old man forth, he is returned. The King is in high rage. Whether is he going? He calls to Horse, but will I know not whether. 'Tis best to give him way, he leads himself. My Lord, entreat him by no means to stay. Alack the night comes on, and the high winds Do sorely ruffle, for many Miles about There's scarce a Bush.
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)
Why might not you my Lord, receiue attendance From thoſe that ſhe cals Seruants, or from mine? Why not my Lord? If then they chanc'd to ſlacke ye, We could comptroll them; if you will come to me, (For now I ſpi danger) I entreate you To bring but fiue and twentie, to no more Will I giue place or notice. I gaue you all. And in good time you gaue it. Made you my Guardians, my Depoſitaries, But kept a reſeruation to be followed With ſuch a number? What, muſt I come to you With fiue and twenty? Regan, ſaid you ſo? And ſpeak't againe my Lord, no more with me. Thoſe wicked Creatures yet do look wel fauor'd When others are more wicked, not being the worſt Stands in ſome ranke of praiſe, Ile go with thee, Thy fifty yet doth double fiue and twenty, And thou art twice her Loue. Heare me my Lord; What need you fiue and twenty? Ten? Or fiue? To follow in a houſe, where twice ſo many Haue a command to tend you? What need one? O reaſon not the need: our baſeſt Beggers Are in the pooreſt thing ſuperfluous, Allow not Nature, more then Nature needs: Mans life is cheape as Beaſtes. Thou art a Lady; If onely to go warme were gorgeous, Why Nature needs not what thou gorgeous wear'ſt, Which ſcarcely keepes thee warme, but for true need: You Heauens, giue me that patience, patience I need, You ſee me heere (you Gods) a poore old man, As full of griefe as age, wretched in both, If it be you that ſtirres theſe Daughters hearts Againſt their Father, foole me not ſo much, To beare it tamely: touch me with Noble anger, And let not womens weapons, water drops, Staine my mans cheekes. No you vnnaturall Hags, I will haue ſuch reuenges on you both, That all the world ſhall — I will do ſuch things, What they are yet, I know not, but they ſhalbe The terrors of the earth? you thinke Ile weepe, No, Ile not weepe, I haue full cauſe of weeping. But this heart ſhal break into a hundred thouſand flawes Or ere Ile weepe: O Foole, I ſhall go mad. Let vs withdraw, 'twill be a Storme. This houſe is little, the old man an'ds people, Cannot be well beſtow'd. 'Tis his owne blame hath put himſelfe from reſt, And muſt needs taſte his folly. For his particular, Ile receiue him gladly, But not one follower. So am I purpos'd, Where is my Lord of Gloſter? Followed the old man forth, he is return'd. The King is in high rage. Whether is he going? He cals to Horſe, but will I know not whether. 'Tis beſt to giue him way, he leads himſelfe. My Lord, entreate him by no meanes to ſtay. Alacke the night comes on, and the high windes Do ſorely ruffle, for many Miles about There's ſcarce a Buſh.