Shakespeare, William · published 1622 · first performed or written 1604 [c.1603-1604] (Annals) tragedy · King's Men · Blackfriars unassigned nearest T50 Fleets, armies and generals: war by sea · 514 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T50: sea, honour, general, soldiers, men, ship, fight, soldier, king, vittori.
Tush, never tell me, I take it much unkindly That you Iago, who has had my purse, As if the strings were thine, shouldst know of this. 'Sblood, but you will not hear me, If ever I did dream of such a matter, abhor me. Thou toldst me, thou didst hold him in thy hate. Despise me if I do not: three great ones of the City In personal suit to make me his Lieutenant, Oft capt to him, and by the faith of man, I know my price, I am worth no worse a place. But he, as loving his own pride and purposes, evades them, with a bombast circumstance, Horribly stuffed with Epithets of war: And in conclusion, Non-suits my mediators: for certes, says he, I have already chosen my officer, and what was he? Forsooth, a great Arithmetition, One Michael Cassio, a Florentine, A fellow almost damned in a fair wife, That never set a squadren in the field, Nor the division of a Battle knows, More than a Spinster, unless the bookish Theoric, Wherein the toged Consuls can propose As masterly as he: mere prattle without practice, Is all his souldier-shippe: but he sir had the election, And I, of whom his eyes had seen the proof, At Rhodes, at Cypress, and on other grounds, Christian and Heathen, must be led, and calmed, By Debtor and Creditor, this Counter-caster: He in good time, must his Lieutenant be, And I, God bless the mark, his Worship's Ancient. By heaven I rather would have been his hangman. But there's no remedy, 'tis the curse of service, Preferment goes by letter and affection, Not by the old gradation, where each second Stood heir to the first: Now sir be judge yourself, Whether I, in any just term am assigned to love the Moor. I would not follow him then. O sir, content you, I follow him to serve my turn upon him, We cannot be all masters, nor all masters Cannot be truly followed, you shall mark. Many a duteous and knee-crooking knave, That doting on his own obsequious bondage, Wears out his time much like his master's Ass, For 'nough but provender, and when he's old cashiered, Whip me such honest knaves: Others there are, who trimmed in forms, And vissages of duty, keep yet their hearts, Attending on themselves, and throwing But shows of service on their Lords, Do well thrive by 'em, And when they have lined their coats, Do themselves homage, Those fellows have some soul, And such a one do I profess myself,— for sir, It is as sure as you are Roderigo, Were I the Moor, I would not be Iago: In following him, I follow but myself. Heaven is my judge, not I, For love and duty, but seeming so, For my peculiar end. For when my outward action does demonstrate The native act, and figure of my heart, In compliment extern. 'tis not long after, But I will wear my heart upon my sleeve, For Doves to peck at, I am not what I am.
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)
TVsh, neuer tell me, I take it much vnkindly That you Iago, who has had my purse, As if the strings were thine, should'st know of this. S'blood, but you will not heare me, If euer I did dreame of such a matter, abhorre me. Thou toldst me, thou didst hold him in thy hate. Despise me if I doe not: three great ones of the Citty In personall suite to make me his Leiutenant, Oft capt to him, and by the faith of man, I know my price, I am worth no worse a place. But he, as louing his owne pride and purposes, Euades them, with a bumbast circumstance, Horribly stuft with Epithites of warre: And in conclusion, Non-suits my mediators: for certes, sayes he, I haue already chosen my officer, and what was he? Forsooth, a great Arithmetition, One Michael Cassio, a Florentine, A fellow almost dambd in a faire wife, That neuer set a squadren in the field, Nor the deuision of a Battell knowes, More then a Spinster, vnlesse the bookish Theorique, Wherein the oged Consuls can propose As masterly as he: meere pratle without practise, Is all his souldier-shippe: but he sir had the election, And I, of whom his eyes had seene the proofe, At Rhodes, at Cipres, and on other grounds, Christian and Heathen, must be led, and calm'd, By Debitor and Creditor, this Counter-caster: He in good time, must his Leiutenant be, And I, God blese the marke, his Worships Ancient. By heauen I rather would haue bin his hangman. But there's no remedy, Tis the curse of seruice, Preferment goes by letter and affection, Not by the olde gradation, where each second Stood heire to the first: Now sir be iudge your self, Whether I, in any iust tearme am assign'd to loue the Moore. I would not follow him then. O sir, content you, I follow him to serue my turne vpon him, We cannot be all masters, nor all masters Cannot be truely followed, you shall marke. Many a dutious and knee-crooking knaue, That doting on his owne obsequious bondage, Weares out his time much like his masters Asse, For noughe but prouender, and when hee's old cashierd, Whip mee such honest knaues: Others there are, who trimd in formes, And vissages of duty, keepe yet their hearts, Attending on themselues, and throwing But shewes of seruice on their Lords▪ Doe well thriue by 'em, And when they haue lin'd their coates, Doe themselues homage, Those fellowes haue some soule, And such a one doe I professe my selfe,—for sir, It is as sure as you are Roderig, Were I the Moore, I would not be Iage: In following him, I follow but my selfe. Heauen is my iudge, not I, For loue and duty, but seeming so, For my peculiar end. For when my outward action does demonstrate The natiue act, and figure of my heart, In complement externe▪ tis not long after, But I will weare my heart vpon my sleeue, For Doues to pecke at, I am not what I am.