Shakespeare, William · published 1609 · first performed or written 1602 [1602-1603] (Annals) tragedy · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men · Globe unassigned nearest T7 The Trojan war: conflict and its afterma · 513 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T7: hector, troy, achilles, greeks, aeneas, priam, ulysses, troilus, trojan, trojans.
I will see you hanged like Clatpoles, ere I come any more to your tents, I will keep where there is wit stirring, and leave the faction of fools. A good riddance. Marry this sir is proclaimed through all our host, That Hector by the first hour of the Sun. Will with a trumpet twixt our Tents and Troy, To morrow morning call some Knight to arms, That hath a stomach, and such a one that dare, Maintain I know not what, ('tis rash) farewell— Farewell, who shall answer him. I know not, 'tis put to lottery, otherwise, He knew his man. O meaning you? I will go learn more of it. After so many hours, lives, speeches spent, Thus once again says Nestor from the Greekes: Deliver Helen, (and all damage else, As honour, loss of time, travel, expense, Wounds, friends and what els dere that is conim'd In hot digestion of this cormorant war) shallbe struck off, Hector what say you to't? Though no man lesser fears the Greekes than I As far as toucheth my particular yet dread Priam There is no Lady of more softer bowels, More spongy to suck in the sense of fear: More ready to cry out, who knows what follows Then Hector is: the wound of peace is surely Surely secure, but modest doubt is called, The beacon of the wise, the tent that searches, Too'th bottom of the worst let Helen go, Since the first sword was drawn about this question Every tith soul amongst many thousand dimes, Hath beene as deere as Hllen. I meane of os, If we have lost so many tenths of ours, To guard a thing not ours, not worth to us, (Had it our name) the value of one ten, What merits in that reason which denies, The yielding, of her up? Fie, fie, my brother, Way you the worth and honour of a King: So great as our dread fathers in a scale Of common ounces? will you with counters sum, The past proportion of his infinite And buckle in, a waste most fathomles, With spans and inches so diminutive: As fears and reasons: Fie for Godly shame? No marvel though you bite so sharp of reasons, You are so empty of them should not our father; Bear the great sway of his affairs with reason, Because your speech hath none that tell him so? You are for dreams and slumbers brother Priest, You fur your gloves with reason, here are your reasons You know an enemy intends you harm: You know a sword employed is perilous And reason flies the object of all harm. Who marvels then when Helenus beholds, A Grecian and his sword, if he do set The very wings of reason to his heels, And like chidden Merery from Ioe Or like a star disorbd? nay if we talk of reason, Sets shut our gates and sleep: manhood and honour, Should have hare hearts, would they but fat their thoughts With this crammed reason, reason and respect, Make livers pale, and lustihood deject.
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: T11 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
I will see you hang'd like Clatpoles, ere I come any more to your tents, I will keepe where there is wit stirring, and leaue the faction of fooles. A good riddance. Marry this sir is proclaim'd through all our hosle, That Hector by the first houre of the Sunne. Will with a trumpet twixt our Tents and Troy, To morrow morning call some Knight to armes, That hath a stomack, and such a one that dare, Maintaine I know not what, (tis ash) farewel— Farewell, who shall answer him. I know not, is put to lottry, otherwise, He knew his man. O meaning you? I will go learne more of it. After so many houres, liues, speeches spent, Thus once againe saies Nestor from the Greekes: Deliuer Hellen, (and all domage els, As honour, losse o time, trauell, expence, Wounds, friends and what els dere that is conim'd In hot digestion of this cormoraut warre) Shalbe stroke off, Hector what say you to't? Though no man lesser seares the Greekes then I As sarre as toucheth my particular yet dread Priam There is no Lady of more softer bowells, More spungy to suck in the sence of feare: More ready to cry out, who knowes what followes Then Hector is: the ound of peace is surely Surely secure, but modest doubt is calld, The beon of the wise, the tent that serches, Too'th bottome of the worst let Hellen go, Since the first sword was drawne about this question Euery tith soule 'mongst many thousand dismes, Hath beene as deere as Hllen. I meane of os, If we haue loste so many enthes of ours, To guard a thing not ours, not worth to vs, (Had it our name) the valew of one ten, What merits in that reason which denies, The yeelding, of her vp? Fie, fie, my brother, Way you the worth and honour of a King: So great as our dread fathers in a scale Of common ounces? will you with Comters summe, The past proportion of his infinite And buckle in, a waste most atholes, With spanes and inches so dymiue▪ As feares and reasons: Fie for Godly shame? No maruell though you bite so sharpe of reasons, You are so empty of them should not our father; Beare the great sway of his affaires with reason, Because your speech hath none that tell him so? You are for dreames and slumbers brother Priest, You furre your gloues with reason, here are your reasons You know an enemy intends you harme: You know a sword imployde is perilous And reason flies the obiect of all harme. Who maruells then when Helenus beholds, A Gretian and his sword, if he do set The very wings of reason to his heeles, And like chidden Merery from Ioe Or like a starre disorbd? nay if we talke of reason, Sets shut our gates and sleepe: man-hood and honour, Should haue hare hearts, would they but fat their thoughts With this cram'd reason, reason and respect, Make lyuers pale, and lush hood deiect.