Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1602 [1602-1603] (Annals) tragedy · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men T7 The Trojan war: conflict and its afterma typicality 0.81 · 483 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T7: hector, troy, achilles, greeks, aeneas, priam, ulysses, troilus, trojan, trojans.
Peace you ungracious Clamours, peace rude sounds, Fools on both sides, Helen must needs be fair, When with your blood you daily paint her thus. I cannot fight upon this Argument: It is too starved a subject for my Sword, But Pandarus: O Gods! How do you plague me? I cannot come to Cressida but by Pander, And he's as teachy to be wooed to woe, As she is stubborn, chaste, against all suit. Tell me Apollo for thy Daphne's Love What Cressida is, what Pander, and what we: Her bed is India, there she lies, a Pearl, Between our Ilium, and where she resides Let it be called the wild and wand'ring flood, Ourself the Merchant, and this sailing Pander, Our doubtful hope, our convoy and our Bark. How now Prince Troilus? Wherefore not a field? Because not there; this woman's answer sorts. For womanish it is to be from thence: What news Aeneas from the field to day? That Paris is returned home, and hurt. By whom Aeneas? Troilus by Menelaus. Let Paris bleed, 'tis but a scar to scorn, Paris is gored with Menelaus' horn. Hark what good sport is out of Town to day. Better at home, if would I might were may: But to the sport abroad, are you bound thither? In all swift haste. Come go we then together. Who were those went by? Queen Hecuba, and Hellen. And whether go they? up to the Eastern Tower, Whose height commands as subject all the veil, To see the battle: Hector whose patience, Is as a Virtue fixed, to day was moved: He chides Andromache and strooke his Armourer, And like as there were husbandry in War Before the Sun rose, he was harnessed light, And to the field goes he; where every flower Did as a Prophet weep what it foresaw, In Hector's wrath. What was his cause of anger? The noise goes this; There is among the Greeks, A Lord of Trojan blood, Nephew to Hector, They call him Aiax. Good; and what of him? They say he is a very man per se and stands alone. So do all men, unless they are drunk, sick, or have no legs. This man Lady, hath robbed many beasts of their particular additions, he is as valiant as the Lion, churlish as the Bear, slow as the Elephant: a man into whom nature hath so crowded humours, that his valour is crushed into folly, his folly sauced with discretion: there is no man hath a virtue, that he hath not a glimpse of, nor any man an attaint, but he carries some stain of it. He is melancholy without cause, and merry against the hair, he hath the joints of every thing, but every thing so out of joint, that he is a gouty Briareus, many hands and no use; or purblinded Argus, all eyes and no sight.
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)
Peace you vngracious Clamors, peace rude ſounds, Fooles on both ſides, Helen muſt needs be faire, When with your bloud you daily paint her thus. I cannot fight vpon this Argument: It is too ſtaru'd a ſubiect for my Sword, But Pandarus: O Gods! How do you plague me? I cannot come to Creſſid but by Pandar, And he's as teachy to be woo'd to woe, As ſhe is ſtubborne, chaſt, againſt all ſuite. Tell me Apollo for thy Daphnes Loue What Creſſid is, what Pandar, and what we: Her bed is India, there ſhe lies, a Pearle▪ Between our Ilium, and where ſhee recides Let it be cald the wild and wandring flood, Our ſelfe the Merchant, and this ſayling Pandar, Our doubtfull hope, our conuoy and our Barke. How now Prince Troylus? Wherefore not a field? Becauſe not there; this womans anſwer ſorts. For womaniſh it is to be from thence: What newes Aeneas from the field to day? That Paris is returned home, and hurt. By whom Aeneas? Troylus by Menelaus. Let Paris bleed, 'tis but a ſcar to ſcorne, Paris is gor'd with Menelaus horne. Harke what good ſport is out of Towne to day. Better at home, if would I might were may: But to the ſport abroad, are you bound thither? In all ſwift haſt. Come goe wee then togither. Who were thoſe went by? Queene Hecuba, and Hellen. And whether go they? Vp to the Eaſterne Tower, Whoſe height commands as ſubiect all the vaile, To ſee the battell: Hector whoſe pacience, Is as a Vertue fixt, to day was mou'd: He chides Andromache and ſtrooke his Armorer, And like as there were husbandry in Warre Before the Sunne roſe, hee was harneſt lyte, And to the field goe's he; where euery flower Did as a Prophet weepe what it forſaw, In Hectors wrath. What was his cauſe of anger? The noiſe goe's this; There is among the Greekes, A Lord of Troian blood, Nephew to Hector, They call him Aiax. Good; and what of him? They ſay he is a very man per ſe and ſtands alone. So do all men, vnleſſe they are drunke, ſicke, or haue no legges. This man Lady, hath rob'd many beaſts of their particular additions, he is as valiant as the Lyon, churliſh as the Beare, ſlow as the Elephant: a man into whom nature hath ſo crowded humors, that his valour is cruſht into folly, his folly ſauced with diſcretion: there is no man hath a vertue, that he hath not a glimpſe of, nor any man an attaint, but he carries ſome ſtaine of it. He is melancholy without cauſe, and merry againſt the haire, hee hath the ioynts of euery thing, but euery thing ſo out of ioynt, that hee is a gowtie Briareus, many hands and no vſe; or purblinded Argus, all eyes and no ſight.