Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1605 [1605-1606] (Annals) tragedy · King's Men unassigned nearest T1 Death, grief and revenge · 530 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
By nursing them my Lord. List a brief tale, And when 'tis told, O that my heart would burst. The bloody proclamation to escape That followed me so near, (O our life's sweetness, That we the pain of death would hourly dye, Rather than die at once) taught me to shift Into a madman's rags, t'assume a semblance That very Dogs disdained: and in this habit Met I my Father with his bleeding Rings, Their precious Stones new lost: became his guide, Led him, begged for him, saved him from despair. Never (O fault) revealed myself unto him, Until some half hour past when I was armed, Not sure, though hoping of this good success, I asked his blessing, and from first to last Told him our pilgrimage. But his flawed heart (Alack too weak the conflict to support) Twixt two extremes of passion, joy and grief, Burst smilingly. This speech of yours hath moved me, And shall perchance do good, but speak you on, You look as you had something more to say. If there be more, more woeful, hold it in, For I am almost ready to dissolve, Hearing of this. Help, help: O help. What kind of help? Speak man. What means this bloody Knife? 'Tis hot, it smokes, it came even from the heart of— O she's dead. Who dead? Speak man. Your Lady Sir, your Lady; and her Sister By her is poisoned: she confesses it. I was contracted to them both, all three Now marry in an instant. Here comes Kent. Produce the bodies, be they alive or dead; This judgement of the Heavens that makes us tremble. Touches us not with pity: O, is this he? The time will not allow the compliment Which very manners urges. I am come To bid my King and Master aye good night. Is he not here? Great thing of us forgot, Speak Edmund, where's the King? and where's Cordelia? Seest thou this object Kent? Alack, why thus? Yet Edmund was beloved: The one the other poisoned for my sake, And after slew herself. Even so: cover their faces. I pant for life: some good I mean to do Despite of mine own Nature. Quickly send, (Be brief in it) to ' th' Castle, for my Writ Is on the life of Lear, and on Cordelia: Nay, send in time. Run, run, O run. To who my Lord? Who has the Office? Send thy token of reprieve. Well thought on, take my Sword, Give it the Captain. Hast thee for thy life. He hath Commission from thy Wife and me, To hang Cordelia in the prison, and To lay the blame upon her own despair, That she fordid herself. The Gods defend her, bear him hence awhile. howl, howl, howl: O your are men of stones, Had I your tongues and eyes, I'd use them so, That Heaven's vault should crack: she's gone for ever. I know when one is dead, and when one lives, She's dead as earth: Lend me a Looking-glass, If that her breath will missed or stain the stone, Why then she lives. Is this the promised end? Or image of that horror.
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)
By nurſing them my Lord. Liſt a breefe tale, And when 'tis told, O that my heart would burſt. The bloody proclamation to eſcape That follow'd me ſo neere, (O our liues ſweetneſſe, That we the paine of death would hourely dye, Rather then die at once) taught me to ſhift Into a mad-mans rags, t'aſſume a ſemblance That very Dogges diſdain'd: and in this habit Met I my Father with his bleeding Rings, Their precious Stones new loſt: became his guide, Led him, begg'd for him, ſau'd him from diſpaire. Neuer (O fault) reueal'd my ſelfe vnto him, Vntill ſome halfe houre paſt when I was arm'd, Not ſue, though hoping of this good ſucceſſe, I ask'd his bleſſing, and from firſt to laſt Told him our pilgrimage. But his flaw'd heart (Alacke too weake the conflict to ſupport) Twixt two extremes of paſſion, ioy and greefe, Burſt ſmilingly. This ſpeech of yours hath mou'd me, And ſhall perchance do good, but ſpeake you on, You looke as you had ſomething more to ſay. If there be more, more wofull, hold it in, For I am almoſt ready to diſſolue, Hearing of this. Helpe, helpe: O helpe. What kinde of helpe? Speake man. What meanes this bloody Knife? 'Tis hot, it ſmoakes, it came euen from the heart of—O ſhe's dead. Who dead? Speake man. Your Lady Sir, your Lady; and her Siſter By her is poyſon'd: ſhe confeſſes it. I was contracted to them both, all three Now marry in an inſtant. Here comes Kent. Produce the bodies, be they aliue or dead; This iudgement of the Heauens that makes vs tremble. Touches vs not with pitty: O, is this he? The time will not allow the complement Which very manners vrges. I am come To bid my King and Maſter aye good night. Is he not here? Great thing of vs forgot, Speake Edmund, where's the King? and where's Cordelia? Seeſt thou this obiect Kent? Alacke, why thus? Yet Edmund was belou'd: The one the other poiſon'd for my ſake, And after ſlew herſelfe. Euen ſo: couer their faces. I pant for life: ſome good I meane to do Deſpight of mine owne Nature. Quickly ſend, (Be briefe in it) to' th' Caſtle, for my Writ Is on the life of Lear, and on Cordelia: Nay, ſend in time. Run, run, O run. To who my Lord? Who ha's the Office? Send thy token of repreeue. Well thought on, take my Sword, Giue it the Captaine. Haſt thee for thy life. He hath Commiſſion from thy Wife and me, To hang Cordelia in the priſon, and To lay the blame vpon her owne diſpaire, That ſhe for-did her ſelfe. The Gods defend her, beare him hence awhile. Howle, howle, howle: O your are men of ſtones, Had I your tongues and eyes, Il'd vſe them ſo, That Heauens vault ſhould crack: ſhe's gone for euer. I know when one is dead, and when one liues, She's dead as earth: Lend me a Looking-glaſſe, If that her breath will miſt or ſtaine the ſtone, Why then ſhe liues. Is this the promis'd end? Or image of that horror.