Shakespeare, William · published 1609 · first performed or written 1602 [1602-1603] (Annals) tragedy · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men · Globe unassigned nearest T27 Uncles, nephews and cousins: kinship and · 499 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T27: uncle, niece, nephew, gentlemen, faith, cousin, wife, house, gentleman, money.
What's all the doors open here? It is your uncle. A pestilence on him: now will he be mocking: I shall have such a life. How now, how now, how go maidenheads, hear you maid, where's my cousin Cresseid? Go hang yourself, you naughty mocking uncle, You bring me to do— and that you flout me to. To do what, to do what? let her say what, What have I brought you to do? Come, come, beshrew your heart, you'll near be good, not suffer others. Ha, ha: alas poor wretch: a poor chipochia, hast not slept to night? would he not (a naughty man) let it sleep, a bugbear take him. Did not I tell you? would he were knocked i' th' Who's that at door, good uncle go and see. My Lord, come you again into my chamber, You smile and mock me, as if I meant naughtily. Ha, ha. Come you are deceived, I think of no such thing, How earnestly they knock, pray you come in. I would not for half Troy have you seen here, Who's there? what's the matter? will you beat down the door? How now, what's the matter? Good morrow Lord, good morrow. Who's there my Lord Aeneas: by my troth I knew you not: what news with you so early? Is not Prince Troilus here? Here, what should he do here? Come he is here, my Lord, do not deny him, It doth import him much to speak with me. Is he here say you? its more than I know i'll be sworn For my own part I came in late: what should he do here? Who, nay then! Come, come, you'll do him wrong ere you are ware, you'll be so true to him, to be false to him: Do not you know of him, but yet go fetch him hither, go. How now, what's the matter? My Lord, I scarce have leisure to salute you, My matter is so rash: there is at hand, Parish your brother, and Deiphobus, The Grecian Diomedes, and our Antenor Delivered to him, and forthwith, Ere the first sacrifice, within this hour, We must give up to Diomedes hand The Lady Cresseida. Is it so concluded? By Priam and the general state of Troy, They are at hand, and ready to effect t. How my achievments mock me. I will go meet them: and my Lord Aeneas, We met by chance, you did not find me here. Good, good, my lord, the secrets of neighbour Pandar Have not more gift in taciturnity. Is't possible: no sooner got but lost, the devil take Antenor, the young Prince will go mad, a plague upon Antenor. I would they had brok's neck. How now? what's's the matter? who was here? Ah, ah! Why sigh you so profoundly, where's my Lord? gone? tell me sweet Uncle, what's the matter. Would I were as deep under the earth as I am above. O the Gods, what's the matter?
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)
Whats al the door open heere▪ It is your Vncle. A pestilence on him: now will he be mocking: I shall haue such a life. How now, how now, how go maiden-heads, Here you maide, where's my cozin Cressid? Go hang your selfe▪ you nughy mocking vncle▪ You bring me to doo—and th ▪ you floue me to. To do what, to do what? let her say wha, What haue I brought you to doe? Come, come▪ eshrw your heart, youle re be good, not suffer others. Ha▪ ha: ala poor wretch: a poore chipochi, hast not slept o night? would hee not (a naughty man) let it leepe, a bug-beare take him. Did not I tell you? would he were , Who's that doore, good vnckle go and se. My Lord, come you againe into my chamber, You smile and mock me, as if I meant naughtily. Ha, ha. Come you are deceiued, I thinke of no such thing, How earnestly they knock, pray you come in. I would not for halfe Troy haue you seene here, Who's there? what's the matter? will you beate downe the doore? How now, what's the matter? Good morrow Lord, good morrow. Who's there my Lord Aenea: by my troth I knew you not: what newes with you so early? Is not Prince Troylus heere? Here, what should he do here? Come he is here, my Lord, do not deny him, It doth import him much to speake with me. Is he here say you▪ its more then I know ile be sworne For my owne part I came in late: what should hee doe hre? Who, nay then! Come▪ come, youle do him wrong ere you are ware, youle be so true to him, o be false to him: Do not you know of him, but yet go fetch him hither, go. How now, whats the matter? My Lord, I scarce haue leisure to salute you, My matter is so rash: there is at hand, Paris your brother, and Deihobus, The Grecian Diomed, and our Anthenor Deliuer'd to him, and forth-with, Ere the first sacrifice, within this houre, We must giue vp to Diomedes hand The Lady Cresseida▪ Is it so concluded? By Priam and the generall state of Troy, They are at hand, and ready to effect t. How my atchiuement mock me▪ I will go meete them: and my Lord Aenea, We met by chance, you did not finde me here. Good, good, my lord, the secets of neighbor Pand Haue not more guift in aciturnitie. Ist possible: no sooner got but lot, the diuell ake Anthenor, the young Prince will go adde, a plague vpon Anthenor. I would they had brok's neck. How now? what' the matter? who was heere? Ah, ah! Why igh you so profoundly, wher's my Lord? gone? tell me sweeet Vncle, whats the matter. Would I wee as deepe vnder the earth as I am aboue. O the Gods, whats the matter?