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 0.86 · 514 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.
Here sister, armed and bloody in intent, Consort with me in loud and dear petition, Pursue we him on knees: for I have dreamt Of bloody turbulence, and this whole night Hath nothing been but shapes and forms of slaughter. O 'tis true. Ho? bid my trumpet sound. No notes of sally for the heavens sweet brother. Begun I say, the gods have heard me swear. The gods are deaf to hot and peevish vows, They are polluted offerings more abhorred, Then spotted livers in the sacrifice. O be persuaded, do not count it holy, It is the purpose that makes strong the vow, But vows to every purpose must not hold: Unarm sweet Hector. Hold you still I say, Mine honour keeps the weather of my fate: Life every man holds dear but the dear man, Holds honour far more precious dear than life, How now young man, meanest thou to fight to day. Cassandra call my father to persuade. No faith young Troilus, doff thy harness youth, I am to day i'th' vain of chivalry, Let grow thy sinews till their knots be strong, And tempt not yet the brushes of the war. Unarm thee go, and doubt thou not brave boy, I'll stand to day for thee and me and Troy. Brother, you have a vice of mercy in you, Which better fits a Lion then a man. What vice is that? good Troilus chide me for it. When many times the captive Grecian falls, Even in the fan and wind of your fair sword. You bid them rise and live. O 'tis fair play. fools play by heaven Hector. How now? how now? forth' love of all the gods Let's leave the Hermit Pity with our Mother, And when we have our armours buckled on, The venomed vengeance ride upon our swords, Spur them to ruthful work, rain them from ruth. Fie savage, fie. Hector then 'tis wars. Troilus I would not have you fight to day. Who should withhold me? Not fate, obedience, nor the hand of Mars, Beckoning with fiery truncheon my retire, Not Priamus and Hecuba on knees, Their eyes ore-galled with recourse of tears, Nor you my brother, with your true sword drawn, Opposed to hinder me, should stop my way, Lay hold upon him, Priam hold him fast, He is thy crutch: now if thou lose thy stay, Thou on him leaning, and all Troy on thee, Fall all together. Come Hector, come, go back, Thy wife hath dreamt, thy mother hath had visions, Cassandra doth foresee, and I myself, Am like a prophet suddenly enrapt, To tell thee that this day is ominous: Therefore come back. Aeneas is afield, And I do stand, engaged to many Greekes, Even in the faith of valour to appear, This morning to them. I but thou shalt not go. I must not break my faith, You know me dutiful, therefore dear sir, Let me not shame respect, but give me leave To take that course by your consent and voice, Which you do here forbid me royal Priam.
Other edition — placed after the fit, excluded from the main statistics
Position
nodes 2551–2622 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 46 of 50 in this edition
Length
514 words · 677 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T7 — The Trojan war: conflict and its aftermathcross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.863 (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)
Here sister, arm'd and bloody in intent, Consort with me in lowd and deere petition, Pursue we him on knees: for I haue dreamt Of bloudy turbulence, and this whole night Hath nothing beene but shapes and formes of slaughter. O tis true. Ho? bid my trumpet sound. No notes of sallie for the heauens sweete brother. Begon I say, the gods haue heard me sweare. The gods are dease to hoe and peeuish vowes, They are polluted offrings more abhord, Then spotted liuers in the sacrifice. O be perswaded, do not count it holy, It is the purpose that makes strong the vow, But vowes to euery purpose must not hold: Vnarme sweet Hector. Hold you still I say, Mine honor keepes the weather of my fate: Life euery man holds deere but the deere man, Holds honor sarre more precious deere then life, How now yong man, meanest thou to fight to day. Cassandra call my father to perswade. No faith yong Troylus, dofe thy harnesse youth, I am to day ith' vaine of chiualrie, Let grow thy sinews till their knots be strong, And tempt not yet the brushes of the warre. Vnarme thee go, and doubt thou not braue boy, Ile stand to day for thee and me and Troy. Brother, you haue a vice of mercy in you, Which better fits a Lion then a man. What vice is that? good Troylus chide mee for it. When many times the captiue Grecian falls, Euen in the fanne and winde of your faire sword. You bid them rise and liue. O tis faire play. Fooles play by heauen Hector. How now? how now? For'th loue of all the gods Lets leaue the Hermit Pitty with our Mother, And when we haue our armors buckled on, The venomd vengeance ride vpon our swords, Spur them to ruthfull worke, raine them from ruth. Fie sauage, fie. Hector then 'tis warres. Troylus I would not haue you fight to day. Who should with-hold me? Not ate, obedience, nor the hand of Mars, Beckning with fierie trunchion my etire, Not Priamus and Hecuba on knees, Their eyes ore-galled with recourse of teares, Nor you my brother, with your true sword drawne, Opposd to hinder me, should stop my way, Lay hold vpon him, Priam hold him fast, He is thy crutch: now if thou loose thy stay, Thou on him leaning, and all Troy on thee, Fall all together. Come Hector, come, go back, Thy wife hath dreamt, thy mother hath had visions, Cassandra doth forcsee, and I my selfe, Am like a prophet suddenly enapt, To tell thee that this day is ominous: Therefore come back. Aeneas is a field, And I do stand, engagd to many Greekes, Euen in the faith of valour to appeare, This morning to them. I but thou shalt not goe. I must not breake my faith, You know me dutifall, therefore deere sir, Let me not shame respect, but giue me leaue To take that course by your consent and voice, Which you do here forbid me royall Priam.