Shakespeare, William · published 1609 · first performed or written 1602 [1602-1603] (Annals) tragedy · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men · Globe T7 The Trojan war: conflict and its afterma typicality 0.72 · 495 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T7: hector, troy, achilles, greeks, aeneas, priam, ulysses, troilus, trojan, trojans.
Therefore Achilles, but what ere know this, In the extremity of great and little: Valour and pride excel themselves in Hector The one almost as infinite as all, The other blank as nothing, way him well. And that which looks like pride is courtesy, This Ajax is half made of Hector's blood, In love whereof, half Hector stays at home, Half heart, half hand, half Hector comes to seek: This blended knight half Trojan, and half Greek. A maiden battle then, Oh I perceive you. Here is sir Diomedes? go gentle knight, Stand by our Ajax. As you and Lord Aeneas' Consent upon the order of their fight, So be it, either to the uttermost, Or else a breath, the combatants being kin, Half stints their strife, before their strokes begin. Ulysses: what Trojan is that some that looks so heavy? The youngest son of Priam, a true knight, Not yet mature, yet matchless firm of word, Speaking deeds, and deedless in his tongue, Not soon provoked nor being provoked soon calmed, His heart and hand both open and both free. For what he has he gives, what thinks he shows, Yet gives he not till judgement guide his bounty, Nor dignifies an impair thought with breath; Manly as Hector, but more dangerous, For Hector in his blaze of wrath subscribes To tender objects, but he in heat of action, Is more vindicative than jealous love. They call him Troilus, and on him erect, A second hope as fairly built as Hector: Thus says Aeneas one that knows the youth, Even to his inches: and with private soul Did in great Illium thus translate him to me. They are in action. Now Ajax hold thine own. Hector thou sleepest awake thee. His blows are well: disposed, there Ajax. You must no more. Princes enough so please you. I am not warm yet, let us fight again. As Hector pleases. Why then will I no more, Thou art great Lord my father's sister's Son, A cousin german to great Priam's feed, The obligation of our blood forbids, A gory emulation twixt us twain: Were thy commixtion Greek and Trojan so, That thou couldst say this hand is Grecian all: And this is Trojan, the sinews of this leg All Greek, and this all Troy: my mother's blood, Runs on the dexter cheek, and this sinister Bounds in my fathers. By Loue multipotent Thou shouldst not bear from me a Greekish member, Wherein my sword had not impressure made. But the just Gods gainsay, That any day thou borrowd'st from thy mother, My sacred Aunt, should by my mortal sword, Be drained. Let me embrace thee Ajax: By him that thunders thou hast lusty aims, Hector would have them fall upon him thus. Cozen all honour to thee. I thank thee Hector, Thou art to gentle, and too free a man, I came to kill thee cozen, and bear hence, A great addition earned in thy death.
Other edition — placed after the fit, excluded from the main statistics
Position
nodes 2066–2132 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 38 of 50 in this edition
Length
495 words · 653 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T7 — The Trojan war: conflict and its aftermathcross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.719 (cosine to the topic centroid) · placed after the fit (approximate_predict), not counted in the topic statistics
Other seeds
seed 43: T12 · seed 44: T11 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Therefore Achilles, but what ere know this, In the extremity of great and little: Valour and pride excell themselues in Hector The one almost as infinite as all, The other blanke as nothing, way him well. And that which lookes like pride is cutesie, This Aiax is halfe made of Hectors bloud, In loue whereof, halfe Hector staies at home, Halfe heart, halfe hand, halfe Hector comes to seeke: This blended knight halfe Troyan, and halfe Greeke. A maiden battell then, Oh I perceiue you. Here is sir Diomed? go gentle knight, Stand by our Aiax. As you and Lord Eneas Conset vpon the order of their fight, So be it, eiher to the vttermost, Or els a breath, the combatants being kin, Halfe stints thei strife, before their strokes begin. Vlisses: what Troyan is that sme that lookes so heauy? The yongest sonne of Priam, a true knight, Not yet mature, yet matchesse firme of word, Speaking deeds, and deedlesse in his tongue, Not soone prouok't nor beeing soone calm'd, His heart and hand both open and both free. For what he has he giues, what thinkes he shewes, Yet giues hee not till iudgement guide his bounty, Nor dignifies an impare thought with breath; Manly as Hector, but more dangerous, Fr Hector in his blaze of wrath subscribes To tender obiects, but he in heate of action, Is more vindicatiue then iealous loue. They call him Troylus, and on him erect, A second hope as fairely built as Hector: Thus saies Aeneas ou that knowes the youth, Euen to his ynhes: and with priuate soule Did in great Illion thus translate him to me. They are in action. Now Aiax hould thine owne. Hector thou sleep'st awake thee. His blowes well: dispo'd, there Aiax. You must no more. Princes enough so please you. I am not warme yet, let vs fight againe. As Hector pleases. Why then will I no more, Thou art great Lord my fathers sisters Sonne, A couzen german to great Prianss feede, The obligation of our bloud for bids, A gory emulation twixt vs twaine: Were thy Greeke and Troyan so, That thou couldst say this hand is Grecian all: And this is Troyan, the sinnewes of this legge All Greeke, and this all Troy: my mothers bloud, Runnes on the dexter cheeke, and this sinister Bounds in my fathers. By lou multipotent Thou shouldst not beare from mee a Greekish member, Wherein my sword had not impressure made. But the iust Gods gainsay, That any day thou borrowd'st from thy mother, My sacred Aunt, should by my mortal sword, Be drained. Let me embrae thee Aiax: By him that thunders thou hast lusty aimes, Hector would haue them fall vpon him thus. Cozen all honor to thee. I thanke thee Hector, Thou art to gentle, and too free a man, I came to kill thee cozen, and beare hence, A great addition earned in thy death▪