Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1605 [1605-1606] (Annals) tragedy · King's Men unassigned nearest T11 Siblings, kin and confidants · 509 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T11: sister, brother, love, friend, heart, father, mother, woman, lord, hear.
Both, both, my Lord. This Letter Madam, craves a speedy answer: 'Tis from your Sister. One way I like this well. But being widow, and my Glouster with her, May all the building in my fancy pluck Upon my hateful life. Another way The News is not so tart. I'll read, and answer. Where was his Son, When they did take his eyes? Come with my Lady hither. He is not here. No my good Lord, I met him back again. Knows he the wickedness? I my good Lord: 'twas he informed against him And quit the house on purpose, that their punishment Might have the freer course. Glouster, I live To thank thee for the love thou showd'st the King, And to revenge thine eyes. Come hither Friend, Tell me what more thou knowst. Alack, 'tis he: why he was met even now As mad as the vexed Sea, singing aloud, Crowned with rank Fenitar, and furrow weeds, With Hardokes, Hemlock, Nettles, Cuckoo flowers, Darnell, and all the idle weeds that grow In our sustaining Corne. A Centery send forth; Search every Acre in the high-growne field, And bring him to our eye. What can man's wisdom In the restoring his bereaved Sense; he that helps him, Take all my outward worth. There is means Madam: Our foster Nurse of Nature, is repose, The which he lacks: that to provoke in him Are many Simples operative, whose power Will close the eye of Anguish. All blessed Secrets, All you vnpublish'd Virtues of the earth Spring with my tears; be aydant, and remediate In the Goodman's desires: seek, seek for him, Lest his ungoverned rage, dissolve the life That wants the means to lead it. News Madam, The British Powers are marching hitherward. 'Tis known before. Our preparation stands In expectation of them. O dear Father, It is thy business that I go about: Therefore great France My mourning, and importuned tears hath pitied: No blown Ambition doth our Arms incite, But love, dear love, and our aged Father's Rite: Soon may I hear, and see him. But are my Brother's Powers set forth? I Madam. Himself in person there? Madam with much ado: Your Sister is the better Soldier. Lord Edmund spoke not with your Lord at home? No Madam. What night import my Sister's Letter to him? I know not, Lady. Faith he is posted hence on serious matter: It was great ignorance, Glousters eyes being out To let him live. Where he arrives, he moves All hearts against us: Edmund, I think is gone In pity of his misery, to dispatch His nighted life: Moreover to descry The strength o' th' Enemy. I must needs after him, Madam, with my Letter. Our troops set forth to morrow, stay with us: The ways are dangerous. I may not Madam: My Lady charged my duty in this business. Why should she write to Edmund? Might not you transport her purposes by word? Belike, Some things, I know not what. I'll love thee much Let me unseal the Letter.
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)
Both, both, my Lord. This Leter Madam, craues a ſpeedy anſwer: 'Tis from your Siſter. One way I like this well. But being widdow, and my Glouſter with her, May all the building in my fancie plucke Vpon my hatefull life. Another way The Newes is not ſo tart. Ile read, and anſwer. Where was his Sonne, When they did take his eyes? Come with my Lady hither. He is not heere. No my good Lord, I met him backe againe. Knowes he the wickedneſſe? I my good Lord: 'twas he inform'd againſt him And quit the houſe on purpoſe, that their puniſhment Might haue the freer courſe. Glouſter, I liue To thanke thee for the loue thou ſhew'dſt the King, And to reuenge thine eyes. Come hither Friend, Tell me what more thou know'ſt. Alacke, 'tis he: why he was met euen now As mad as the vext Sea, ſinging alowd, Crown'd with ranke Fenitar, and furrow weeds, With Hardokes, Hemlocke, Nettles, Cuckoo flowres, Darnell, and all the idle weedes that grow In our ſuſtaining Corne. A Centery ſend forth; Search euery Acre in the high-growne field, And bring him to our eye. What can mans wiſedome In the reſtoring his bereaued Senſe; he that helpes him, Take all my outward worth. There is meanes Madam: Our foſter Nurſe of Nature, is repoſe, The which he lackes: that to prouoke in him Are many Simples operatiue, whoſe power Will cloſe the eye of Anguiſh. All bleſt Secrets, All you vnpubliſh'd Vertues of the earth Spring with my teares; be aydant, and remediate In the Goodmans deſires: ſeeke, ſeeke for him, Leaſt his vngouern'd rage, diſſolue the life That wants the meanes to leade it. Newes Madam, The Brittiſh Powres are marching hitherward. 'Tis knowne before. Our preparation ſtands In expectation of them. O deere Father, It is thy buſineſſe that I go about: Therfore great France My mourning, and importun'd teares hath pittied: No blowne Ambition doth our Armes incite, But loue, deere loue, and our ag'd Fathers Rite: Soone may I heare, and ſee him. But are my Brothers Powres ſet forth? I Madam▪ Himſelfe in perſon there? Madam with much ado: Your Siſter is the better Souldier. Lord Edmund ſpake not with your Lord at home? No Madam. What night import my Siſters Letter to him? I know not, Lady. Faith he is poaſted hence on ſerious matter: It was great ignorance, Glouſters eyes being out To let him liue. Where he arriues, he moues All hearts againſt vs: Edmund, I thinke is gone In pitty of his miſery, to diſpatch His nighted life: Moreouer to deſcry The ſtrength o' th' Enemy. I muſt needs after him, Madam, with my Letter. Our troopes ſet forth to morrow, ſtay with vs: The wayes are dangerous. I may not Madam: My Lady charg'd my dutie in this buſines. Why ſhould ſhe write to Edmund? Might not you tranſport her purpoſes by word? Belike, Some things, I know not what. Ile loue thee much Let me vnſeale the Letter.