Shakespeare, William / Wilkins, George · published 1609 · first performed or written 1608 [1606-1608] (Annals) romance · King's Men · Globe T50 Fleets, armies and generals: war by sea typicality 0.77 · 510 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T50: sea, honour, general, soldiers, men, ship, fight, soldier, king, vittori.
How? how Lychorida? Patience (good sir) do not assist the storm, here's all that is left living of your Queen; A little Daughter: for the sake of it, Be manly, and take comfort. O you Gods! Why do you make us love your goodly gifts, And snatch them straight away? we here below, Recall not what we give, and therein may Use honour with you. Patience (good sir) even for this charge. Now mild may be thy life, For a more blusterous birth had never Babe: Quiet and gentle thy conditions; for Thou art the rudelyest welcome to this world, That ever was Prince's Child: happy what follows, Thou hast as chiding a nativity, As Fire, Air, Water, Earth, and Heaven can make, To herald thee from the womb: Even at the first, thy loss is more than can Thy portage quit, with all thou canst find here: Now the good Gods throw their best eyes upon't. What courage sir? God save you. Courage enough, I do not fear the flaw, It hath done to me the worst: yet for the love Of this poor Infant, this fresh new sea-farer, I would it would be quiet. Slack the bolins there; thou wilt not wilt thou: Blow and split thyself. But Sea-room, and the brine and cloudy billow Kiss the Moon, I care not. Sir your Queen must over board, the sea works high, The Wind is loud, and will not lie till the Ship Be cleared of the dead. That's your superstition. Pardon us, sir; with us at Sea it hath been still observed. And we are strong in eastern, therefore briefly yeeld'er, As you think meet; for she must over board straight; Most wretched Queen. here she lies sir. A terrible Childbed hast thou had (my dear, No light, no fire, th'unfriendly elements, Forgot thee utterly, nor have I time To give thee hallowd to thy grave, but straight, Must cast thee scarcely coffined, in oar, Where for a monument upon thy bones, The air remaining lamps, the belching Whale, And humming Water must orewelme thy corpses, Lying with simple shells: o Lychorida, Bid Nestor bring me Spices, Ink, and Taper, My Casket, and my lewels; and bid Nicander Bring me the Satin Coffin: lay the Babe Upon the Pillow; hie thee whiles I say A priestly farewell to her: suddenly, woman. Sir, we have a Chest beneath the hatches, Caulkt and bittumed ready. I thank thee: Mariner say, what Coast is this? We are near Tharsus. Thither gentel Mariner, Alter thy course for Tyre: When canst thou reach it? By break of day, if the Wind cease. O make for Tharsus, There will I visit Clear, for the Babe Cannot hold out to Tyrus; there isle leave it At careful nursing: go thy ways good Mariner, I'll bring the body presently. Phylemon, hoe. Doth my Lord call? Get Fire and meat for these poor men, 't'as been a turbulent and stormy night. I have been in many; but such a night as this, Till now, I near endured.
seed 43: T47 · seed 44: T45 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
How? how Lychoria? Patience (good sir) do not assist the storme, Heer's all that is left liuing of your Queene; A litle Daughter: for the sake of it, Be manly, and take comfort. O you Gods! Why do you make vs loue your goodly gyfts, And snatch them straight away? we heere below, Recall not what we giue, and therein may Vse honour with you. Patience (good sir) euen for this charge. Now mylde may be thy life, For a more blusterous birth had neuer Babe: Quiet and gentle thy conditions; for Thou art the rudelyest welcome to this world, That euer was Princes Child: happy what followes, Thou hast as chiding a natiuitie▪ As Fire, Ayre, Water, Earth, and Heauen can make, To harould thee from the wombe: Euen at the first, thy losse is more then can Thy portage quit, with all thou canst find heere: Now the good Gods throw their best eyes vpon't. What courage sir? God saue you. Courage enough, I do not feare the law, It hath done to me the worst: yet for the loue Of this poore Infant, this fresh new sea-farer, I would it would be quiet. Slacke the bolins there; thou wilt not wilt thou: Blow and split thy selfe. But Sea-roome, and the brine and cloudy billow Kisse the Moone, I care not. Sir your Queene must ouer board, the sea workes hie, The Wind is lowd, and will not e till the Ship Be cleard of the dead. That's your superstition. Pardon vs, sir; with vs at Sea it hath bin still obserued. And we are strong in easterne, therefore briefly yeeld'er, As you thinke meet; for she must ouer board straight; Most wretched Queene. Heere she lyes sir. A terrible Child-bed hast thou had (my deare, No light, no fire, th'vnfriendly elements, Forgot thee vtterly, nor haue I time To giue thee hallowd to thy graue, but straight, Must cast thee scarcly Cossind, in oare, Where for a monument vpon thy bones, The ayre remayning lampes, the belching Whale, And humming Water must orewelme thy corpes, Lying with simple shels: ô Lychorida, Bid Nesor bring me Spices, Incke, and Taper, My Casket, and my lewels; and bid Nicander Bring me the Sattin Coffin: lay the Babe Vpon the Pillow; hie thee whiles I say A priestly farewell to her: sodainely, woman. Sir, we haue a Chist beneath the hatches, Caulkt and bittumed ready. I thanke thee: Mariner say, what Coast is this? Wee are neere . Thither gentel Mariner, Alter thy course for : When canst thou reach it? By breake of day, if the Wind cease. O make for Thsus, There will I visit Cler, for the Babe Cannot hold out to ; there le leaue it At carefull nursing: goe thy wayes good Mariner, Ile bring the body presently. Phylemon, hoe. Doth my Lord call? Get Fire and meat for these poore men, T'as been a turbulent and stormie night. I haue been in many; but such a night as this, Till now, I neare endured.