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 0.88 · 474 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T7: hector, troy, achilles, greeks, aeneas, priam, ulysses, troilus, trojan, trojans.
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 nor 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, than 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. Fool's play, by heaven Hector. How now? how now? For th' love of all the gods Let's leave the Hermit Pity with our Mothers; And when we have our Armours buckled on, The venomed vengeance ride upon our swords, Spur them to ruthful work, reine 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: But by my ruin. 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 a field, And I do stand engaged to many Greeks, 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. 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 doth bleed at many vents: Hark how Troy roars; how Hecuba cries out; How poor Andromache shrils her dolour forth; Behold distraction, frenzy, and amazement, Like witless Antics one another meet, And all cry Hector, Hector's dead: O Hector! Away, away. Farewell: yes, soft: Hector I take my leave; Thou dost thyself, and all our Troy deceive.
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)
Caſſandra, call my father to perſwade. No faith yong Troylus; doffe thy harneſſe youth: I am to day ith' vaine of Chiualrie: Let grow thy Sinews till their knots be ſtrong; And tempt nor yet the bruſhes of the warre. Vnarme thee, goe; 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 Lyon, then a man. What vice is that? good Troylus chide me for it. When many times the captiue Grecian fals, 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 Let's leaue the Hermit Pitty with our Mothers; And when we haue our Armors buckled on, The venom'd vengeance ride vpon our ſwords, Spur them to ruthfull worke, reine 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 fate, obedience, nor the hand of Mars, Beckning with fierie trunchion my retire; Not Priamus, and Hecuba on knees; Their eyes ore-galled with recourſe of teares; Nor you my brother, with your true ſword drawne Oppoſ'd to hinder me, ſhould ſtop my way: But by my ruine. 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, goe backe: Thy wife hath dreampt: thy mother hath had viſions; Caſſandra doth foreſee; and I my ſelfe, Am like a Prophet ſuddenly enapt, to tell thee that this day is ominous: Therefore come backe. Aeneas is a field, And I do ſtand engag'd 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 dutifull, therefore deare ſir, Let me not ſhame reſpect; but giue me leaue To take that courſe by your conſent and voice, Which you doe here forbid me, Royall Priam. O Priam, yeelde not to him. Doe not deere father. Andromache I am offended with you: Vpon the loue you beare me, get you in. This fooliſh, dreaming, ſuperſtitious girle, Makes all theſe bodements. O farewell, deere Hector: Looke how thou dieſt; looke how thy eye turnes pale: Looke how thy wounds doth bleede at many vents: Harke how Troy roares; how Hecuba cries out; How poore Andromache ſhrils her dolour forth; Behold diſtraction, frenzie, and amazement, Like witleſſe Antickes one another meete, And all cry Hector, Hectors dead: O Hector! Away, away. Farewell: yes, ſoft: Hector I take my leaue; Thou do'ſt thy ſelfe, and all our Troy deceiue.