Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1605 [1605-1606] (Annals) tragedy · King's Men unassigned nearest T48 Addressing a lady: love, desire and inti · 497 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T48: lady, love, heart, fair, eyes, la, lord, tears, fie, face.
Madam, I had rather— I know your Lady does not love her Husband, I am sure of that: and at her late being here, She gave strange Eliads, and most speaking looks To Noble Edmund. I know you are of her bosom. I, Madam? I speak in understanding: YE are: I know't, Therefore I do advise you take this note: My Lord is dead: Edmond, and I have talked, And more convenient is he for my hand Then for your Ladies: You may gather more: If you do find him, pray you give him this; And when your Mistress hears thus much from you, I pray desire her call her wisdom to her. So far you well: If you do chance to hear of that blind Traitor, Preferment falls on him, that cuts him off. Would I could meet Madam, I should show What party I do follow. Far thee well. When shall I come to th' top of that same hill? You do climb up it now. Look how we labour. Me thinks the ground is eeuen. Horrible steep. Hark, do you hear the Sea? No truly. Why then your other Senses grow imperfect By your eyes anguish. So may it be indeed. Me thinks thy voice is altered, and thou speakest In better phrase, and matter than thou didst. YE are much deceived: In nothing am I changed But in my Garments. Me thinks ye are better spoken. Come on Sir, here's the place: stand still: how fearful And dizzy 'tis, to cast one's eyes so low, The Crows and Choughes, that wing the midway air Show scarce so gross as Beetles. Half way down Hangs one that gathers Sampire: dreadful Trade: methinks he seems no bigger than his head. The Fishermen, that walked upon the beach Appear like Mice: and yond tall Anchoring Bark, Diminished to her Cock: her Cock, a Buoy Almost too small for sight. The murmuring Surge, That on th' unnumbered idle Pibble chafes Cannot be heard so high. I'll look no more, Lest my brain turn, and the deficient sight Topple down headlong. Set me where you stand. Give me your hand: You are now within a foot of th' extreme Verge: For all beneath the Moon would I not leap upright. Let go my hand: here Friend's another purse: in it, a jewel Well worth a poor man's taking. Fairies, and Gods Prosper it with thee. Go thou further off, Bid me farewell, and let me hear thee going. Now far ye well, good Sir. With all my heart. Why I do trifle thus with his despair, Is done to cure it. O you mighty Gods! This world I do renounce, and in your sights Shake patiently my great affliction off: If I could bear it longer, and not fall To quarrel with your great opposelesse wills, My snuff, and loathed part of Nature should Burn itself out. If Edgar live, O bless him: Now Fellow, far thee well.
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)
Madam, I had rather— I know your Lady do's not loue her Husband, I am ſure of that: and at her late being heere, She gaue ſtrange Eliads, and moſt ſpeaking lookes To Noble Edmund. I know you are of her boſome. I, Madam? I ſpeake in vnderſtanding: Y' are: I know't, Therefore I do aduiſe you take this note: My Lord is dead: Edmond, and I haue talk'd, And more conuenient is he for my hand Then for your Ladies: You may gather more: If you do finde him, pray you giue him this; And when your Miſtris heares thus much from you, I pray deſire her call her wiſedome to her. So fare you well: If you do chance to heare of that blinde Traitor, Preferment fals on him, that cuts him off. Would I could meet Madam, I ſhould ſhew What party I do follow. Fare thee well. When ſhall I come to th' top of that ſame hill? You do climbe vp it now. Look how we labor. Me thinkes the ground is eeuen. Horrible ſteepe. Hearke, do you heare the Sea? No truly. Why then your other Senſes grow imperfect By your eyes anguiſh. So may it be indeed. Me thinkes thy voyce is alter'd, and thou ſpeak'ſt In better phraſe, and matter then thou did'ſt. Y' are much deceiu'd: In nothing am I chang'd But in my Garments. Me thinkes y' are better ſpoken. Come on Sir, Heere's the place: ſtand ſtill: how fearefull And dizie 'tis, to caſt ones eyes ſo low, The Crowes and Choughes, that wing the midway ayre Shew ſcarſe ſo groſſe as Beetles. Halfe way downe Hangs one that gathers Sampire: dreadfull Trade: Me thinkes he ſeemes no bigger then his head. The Fiſhermen, that walk'd vpon the beach Appeare like Mice: and yond tall Anchoring Barke, Diminiſh'd to her Cocke: her Cocke, a Buoy Almoſt too ſmall for ſight. The murmuring Surge, That on th' vnnumbred idle Pebble chafes Cannot be heard ſo high. Ile looke no more, Leaſt my braine turne, and the deficient ſight Topple downe headlong. Set me where you ſtand. Giue me your hand: You are now within a foote of th' extreme Verge: For all beneath the Moone would I not leape vpright. Let go my hand: Heere Friend's another purſe: in it, a Iewell Well worth a poore mans taking. Fayries, and Gods Proſper it with thee. Go thou further off, Bid me farewell, and let me heare thee going. Now fare ye well, good Sir. With all my heart. Why I do trifle thus with his diſpaire, Is done to cure it. O you mighty Gods! This world I do renounce, and in your ſights Shake patiently my great affliction off: If I could beare it longer, and not fall To quarrell with your great oppoſeleſſe willes, My ſnuffe, and loathed part of Nature ſhould Burne it ſelfe out. If Edgar liue, O bleſſe him: Now Fellow, fare thee well.