Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1605 [1605-1606] (Annals) tragedy · King's Men unassigned nearest T14 Royal love, favour and dynastic relation · 506 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T14: prince, princess, love, king, lord, queen, madam, grace, lady, life.
So please your Majesty, That we may wake the King, he hath slept long? Be governed by your knowledge, and proceed I' th' sway of your own will: is he arrayed? I Madam: in the heaviness of sleep, We put fresh garments on him. Be by good Madam when we do awake him, I doubt of his Temperance. O my dear Father, restauratian hang Thy medicine on my lips, and let this kiss Repair those violent harms, that my two Sisters Have in thy Reverence made. Kind and dear Princess. Had you not been their Father, these white flakes Did challenge pity of them. Was this a face To be opposed against the jarring winds? Mine Enemy's dog, though he had bit me, Should have stood that night against my fire, And was't thou fain (poor Father) To hovel thee with Swine and Rogues forlorn, In short, and musty straw? Alack, alack, 'Tis wonder that thy life and wits, at once Had not concluded all. He wakes, speak to him. Madam do you, 'tis fittest. How does my Royal Lord? How fares your Majesty? You do me wrong to take me out o' th' grave, Thou art a Soul in bliss, but I am bound Upon a wheel of fire, that mine own tears Do scaled, like molten Lead. Sir, do you know me? You are a spirit I know, where did you dye? Still, still, far wide. He's scarce awake, Let him alone a while. Where have I been? Where am I? Fair day light? I am mightily abused; I should even dye with pity To see another thus. I know not what to say: I will not swear these are my hands: let's see, I feel this pin prick, would I were assured Of my condition. O look upon me Sir, And hold your hand in benediction o'er me, You must not kneel. Pray do not mock me: I am a very foolish fond old man, Fourscore and upward, Not an hour more, nor less: And to deal plainly, I fear I am not in my perfect mind. Me thinks I should know you, and know this man, Yet I am doubtful: For I am mainly ignorant What place this is: and all the skill I have Remembers not these garments: nor I know not Where I did lodge last night. Do not laugh at me, For (as I am a man) I think this Lady To be my child Cordelia. And so I am: I am. Be your tears wet? Yes faith: I pray weep not, If you have poison for me, I will drink it: I know you do not love me, for your Sisters Have (as I do remember) done me wrong. You have some cause, they have not. No cause, no cause. Am I in France? In your own kingdom Sir. Do not abuse me. Be comforted good Madam, the great rage You see is killed in him: desire him to go in, Trouble him no more till further settling.
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)
So pleaſe your Maieſty, That we may wake the King, he hath ſlept long? Be gouern'd by your knowledge, and proceede I' th' ſway of your owne will: is he array'd? I Madam: in the heauineſſe of ſleepe, We put freſh garments on him. Be by good Madam when we do awake him, I doubt of his Temperance. O my deere Father, reſtauratian hang Thy medicine on my lippes, and let this kiſſe Repaire thoſe violent harmes, that my two Siſters Haue in thy Reuerence made. Kind and deere Princeſſe. Had you not bin their Father, theſe white flkes Did challenge pitty of them. Was this a face To be oppos'd againſt the iarring windes? Mine Enemies dogge, though he had bit me, Should haue ſtood that night againſt my fire, And was't thou faine (poore Father) To houell thee with Swine and Rogues forlorne, In ſhort, and muſty ſtraw? Alacke, alacke, 'Tis wonder that thy life and wits, at once Had not concluded all. He wakes, ſpeake to him. Madam do you, 'tis fitteſt. How does my Royall Lord? How fares your Maieſty? You do me wrong to take me out o' th' graue, Thou art a Soule in bliſſe, but I am bound Vpon a wheele of fire, that mine owne teares Do ſcal'd, like molten Lead. Sir, do you know me? You are a ſpirit I know, where did you dye? Still, ſtill, farre wide. He's ſcarſe awake, Let him alone a while. Where haue I bin? Where am I? Faire day light? I am mightily abus'd; I ſhould eu'n dye with pitty To ſee another thus. I know not what to ſay: I will not ſweare theſe are my hands: let's ſee, I feele this pin pricke, would I were aſſur'd Of my condition. O looke vpon me Sir, And hold your hand in benediction o're me, You muſt not kneele. Pray do not mocke me: I am a very fooliſh fond old man, Foureſcore and vpward, Not an houre more, nor leſſe: And to deale plainely, I feare I am not in my perfect mind. Me thinkes I ſhould know you, and know this man, Yet I am doubtfull: For I am mainely ignorant What place this is▪ and all the skill I haue Remembers not theſe garments: nor I know not Where I did lodge laſt night. Do not laugh at me, For (as I am a man) I thinke this Lady To be my childe Cordelia. And ſo I am: I am. Be your teares wet? Yes faith: I pray weepe not, If you haue poyſon for me, I will drinke it: I know you do not loue me, for your Siſters Haue (as I do remember) done me wrong. You haue ſome cauſe, they haue not. No cauſe, no cauſe. Am I in France? In your owne kingdome Sir. Do not abuſe me. Be comforted good Madam, the great rage You ſee is kill'd in him: deſire him to go in, Trouble him no more till further ſetling.