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 0.84 · 499 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.
O Priam yield not to him. Do not dear father. Andromache I am offended with you, Upon the love you bear me get you in. This foolish dreaming superstitious girl, Makes all these bodements. O farewell dear Hector. Look how thou diest look how thy eye turns pale. Look how thy wounds do bleed at many vents, Hark how Troy roars, how Hecuba cries out, How poor Andromache shrils her dolours forth, Behold destruction, frenzy, and amazement, Like witless antics one another meet, And all cry Hector, Hector's dead, O Hector. Away, away. Farewell, yet soft: Hector I take my leave, Thou dost thyself and all our Troy deceive? You are amazed my liege, at her exclaim, Go in and cheer the town, we'll forth and fight, Do deeds worth praise, and tell you them at night. Farewell, the gods with safety stand about thee. They are at it hark proud Diomedes believe. I come to lose my arm or win my sleeve. Do you hear my Do You, do you What now? here's a letter come from yond poor girl. Let me read, A whoreson tisick, a whoreson rascally tisick, so troubles me, and the foolish fortune of this girl, and what one thing, what another, that I shall leave you one ath's days: and I have a rheum in mine eyes too, and such an ache in my bones, that unless a man were cursed I cannot tell what to think on't. What says she there? Words, words, mere words, no matter from the heart, Th'effect doth operate another way. Go wind to wind, there turn and change together: My love with words and errors still she feeds, But edifies another with her deeds. Now they are clapper-clawing one another: I'll go look on, that dissembling abhomihable varlet Diomedes, has got that same scurvy dooting foolish knaves sleeve of Troy there in his helm. I would fain see them meet, that that same young Trojan ass that loves the whore there, might send that Greekish whoremasterly villain with the sleeve, back to the dissembling luxurious drab of a sleeveless arrant. ath' other side, the policy of those crafty swearing rascals; that stale old Mouse-eaten dry cheese Nestor: and that same dogfox Ulysses, is not proved worth a Black-berry. They set me up in policy, that mongrill cur Ajax, against that dog of as bad a kind Achilles. And now is the cur Ajax, prouder than the cur Achilles, and will not arm to day. whereupon the Grecians began to proclaim barbarism, and policy grows into an ill opinion. Soft here comes sleeve & tother. fly not, for shouldst thou take the over Styx, I would swim after, Thou doost miseall ree, I do not fly, but advantageous care, Withdrew me from the odds of multitude, have at thee? Hold thy whore Grecian: now for thy whore Trojan, Now the sleeve, now the sleeve. What art Greek, art thou for Hector's match. Art thou of blood and honour.
Other edition — placed after the fit, excluded from the main statistics
Position
nodes 2623–2665 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 47 of 50 in this edition
Length
499 words · 701 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T7 — The Trojan war: conflict and its aftermathcross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.839 (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)
O Priam yeeld not to him. Do not deere father. Andromach I am offended with you, Vpon the loue you beare me get you in. This foolish dreaming superstitious girle, Makes all these boements. O farewell deere Hector. Looke how thou dy'est looke how thy eye turnes pale. Looke how thy wounds do bleed at many vents, Harke how Troy roares, how Hecuba cries out, How poore Andromache shrils her dolours foorth, Behold destruction, frenzie, and amazement, Like witlesle an iques one another meete, And all cric Hector, Hectors dead, O Hector. Away, away. Farewell, yet soft: Hector I take my leaue, Thou do'st thy selfe and all our Troy deceaue? You are amaz'd my liege, at her excaime, Goe in and cheere the towne, Weele forth and fight, Do deeds worth praise, and tell you them at night. Farewell, the gods with safetie stand about thee. They are at it harke proud Diomed beleeue. I come to loose my arme or winne my sleeue. Do you heere my What now? Heer's a letter come from yond poore gire. Let me read, A whorson tisick, a whorson rascally tisick, so troubles me, and the foolish fortune of this girle, and what one thing, what another, that I shall leaue you one ath's dayes: and I haue a rheume in mine eyes too, and such an ache in my bones, that vnlesse a man were curst I cannot tell what to thinke on't. What sayes she there? Words, words, meere words, no matter frō the heart, Th'effect doth operate another way. Go winde to winde, there turne and change together: My loue with words and errors still she feedes, But ediies another with her deedes. Now they are clapper-clawing one another: Ile go looke on, that dislembling abhomihable vatlet Diomede, has go that same scurnie dooting foolish knaues sleeue of Troy there in his helme. I would faine see them meete, that that same young Troy an asse that loues the whore there, might send that Greekish whore-masterly villaine with the fleeue, back to the dissembling luxurious drabbe of a sleeuelesse arrant. Ath' tother side, the pollicie of those cratie swearing raskalls; that stale old Mouse-eaten drye cheese Nestor: and that same dogge-foxe Vlisses, is not proou'd worth a Black-berry. They set mee vp in pollicie, that mongrill curre Aiax, against that dogge of as bad a kinde Achilles. And now is the curte Aiax, prouder then the curre Achilles, and will not arme to day. Where-vpon the Grecians began to proclaime barbarisme, and pollicie growes into an ill opinion. Soft here comes sleeue & tother. lye not, for shouldst th take the uer Stix, I would swm after, Thou doost miseall ree, I doe not , but aduantagious care, With-drew me from the ods of multitude, haue at thee? Hold thy whore Grecian: now for thy whore Troian, Now the sleeue, now the sleeue. What art Greeke, art thou for Hectors match. Art thou of bloud and honour.