Shakespeare, William / Wilkins, George · published 1609 · first performed or written 1608 [1606-1608] (Annals) romance · King's Men · Globe unassigned nearest T14 Royal love, favour and dynastic relation · 489 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T14: prince, princess, love, king, lord, queen, madam, grace, lady, life.
He hath found the meaning, For which we mean to have his head: He must not live to trumpet forth my infamy, Nor tell the world Antiochus doth sin In such a loathed manner: And therefore instantly this Prince must die, For by his fall, my honour must keep high. Who attends us there? Doth your highness call? Thaliard, you are of our Chamber, Thaliard, And our mind partakes her private actions, To your secrecy; and for your faithfulness, We will advance you, Thaliard: Behold, here's Poison, and here's Gold: We hate the Prince of Tyre, and thou must kill him; It fits thee not to ask the reason why? Because we bid it: say, is it done? My Lord, 'tis done. Enough. Let your breath cool yourself, telling your haste. My Lord, Prince Pericles is fled. As thou wilt live fly after, and like an arrow shot from a well experienced Archer hits the mark his eye doth level at: so thou never return unless thou say Prince Pericles is dead. My Lord, if I can get him within my Pistols length, I'll make him sure enough, so farewell to your highness. Thaliard adieu, till Pericles be dead, My heart can lend no succour to my head. Let none disturb us, why should this change of thoughts The sad companion dull eyed melancholy, By me so used a guest, as not an hour In the days glorious walk or peaceful night, The tomb where grief should sleep can breed me quiet, Here pleasures court mine eyes, and mine eyes shun them, And danger which I feared is at Antioch, Whose arm seems far too short to hit me here, Yet neither pleasures Art can joy my spirits, Nor yet the others distance comfort me, Than it is thus, the passions of the mind, That have their first conception by mis-dread, Have after nourishment and life, by care And what was first but fear, what might be done, Grows elder now, and cares it be not done. And so with me the great Antiochus, 'Gainst whom I am too little to contend, Since he's so great, can make his will his act, Will think me speaking, though I swear to silence, Nor boots it me to say, I honour, If he suspect I may dishonour him. And what may make him blush in being known, he'll stop the course by which it might be known, With hostile forces heel o'erspread the land, And with the stint of war will look so huge, Amazement shall drive courage from the state, Our men be vanquished ere they do resist, And subjects punished that near thought offence, Which care of them, not pity of myself, Who once no more but as the tops of trees, Which fence the roots they grow by and defend them, Makes both my body pine, and soul to languish, And punish that before that he would punish.
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
He hath found the meaning, For which we meane to haue his head: He must not liue to trumpet foorth my infane, Nor tell the world Antiochus doth sinne In such a loathed manner: And therefore instantly this Prince must die, For by his fall, my honour must keepe hie. Who attends vs there? Doth your highnes call? Thaliar, you are of our Chamber, Thalird, And our minde pertakes her priuat actions, To your secrecie; and for your faythfulnes, We will aduaunce you, Thliard: Behold, heere's Poyson, and heere's Gold: Wee hate the Prince of Tyre, and thou must kill him; It fittes thee not to aske the reason why? Because we bid it: say, is it done? My Lord, tis done. Enough. Let your breath coole your selfe, telling your haste. My Lord, Prince Pericles is fled. As thou wilt liue flie after, and like an arrow shot from a well experienst Archer hits the marke his eye doth leuell at: so thou neuer returne vnlesse thou say Prince Pericles is dead. My Lord, if I can get him within my Pistols length, Ile make him sure enough, so farewell to your highnesse. Thaliard adieu, till Pericles be dead, My heart can lend no succour to my head. Let none disturb vs, why shold this chāge of thoughts The sad companion dull eyde melancholie, By me so vsde a guest, as not an houre In the dayes glorious walke or peacefull night, The tombe where griefe stould sleepe can breed me quiet, Here pleasures court mine eies, and mine eies shun them, And daunger which I fearde is at Antioch, Whose arme seemes farre too short to hit me here, Yet neither pleasures Art can ioy my spirits, Nor yet the others distance comfort me, Then it is thus, the passions of the mind, That haue their first conception by misdread, Haue after nourishment and life, by care And what was first but feare, what might be done, Growes elder now, and cares it be not done. And so with me the great Antiochus, Gainst whom I am too little to contend, Since hee's so great, can make his will his act, Will thinke me speaking, though I sweare to silence, Nor bootes it me to say, I honour, If he suspct I may dishonour him. And what may make him blush in being knowne, Heele stop the course by which it might be knowne, With hostile forces heele ore-spread the land, And with the stint of warre will looke so huge, Amazement shall driue courage from the state, Our men be vanquisht ere they doe resist, And subiects punisht that nere thought offence, Which care of them, not pittie of my selfe, Who once no more but as the tops of trees, Which fence the rootes they grow by and defend them, Makes both my bodie pine, and soule to languish, And punish that before that he would punish.