Shakespeare, William · published 1622 · first performed or written 1604 [c.1603-1604] (Annals) tragedy · King's Men · Blackfriars unassigned nearest T6 Money, debt and credit · 481 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T6: money, master, pound, law, lawyer, chain, gentleman, gold, pay, pray.
What a full fortune does the thicklips own, If he can carry'et thus? Call up her father. Rouse him, make after him, poison his delight, Proclaim him in the street, incense her Kinsmen, And though he in a fertile climate dwell, Plague him with flies: though that his joy be joy. Yet throw such changes of vexation out, As it may lose some colour. Here is her father's house, I'll call aloud. Do with like timorous accent, and dire yell, As when by night and negligence, the fire Is spied in populous Cities. What ho, Brabantio, Signior Brabantio, ho, Awake, what ho, Brabantio, thieves, thieves, thieves: Look to your house, you Daughter, and your bags, thieves, thieves. What is the reason of this terrible summons? What is the matter there? Signior, is all your family within? Are all door lockts? Why, wherefore ask you this? Zounds sir you are robbed, for shame put on your gown, Your heart is burst, you have lost halfe your soul; Even now, very now, an old black Ram Is tupping your white Ewe; arise, arise, Awake the snorting Citizens with the Bell, Or else the Devil will make a Grandsire of you, arise I say. What, have you lost your wits? Most reverend Signior, do you know my voice? Not I, what are you? My name is Roderigo. The worse welcome, I have charged thee, not to haunt about my doors, In honest plainness, thou hast heard me say My daughter is not for thee, and now in madness, Being full of supper, and distempering draughts, Upon malicious bravery, dost thou come To start my quiet? Sir, sir, sir. But thou must needs be sure My spirit and my place have in them power, To make this bitter to thee. Patience good sir. What, tell'st thou me of robbing? this is Venice, My house is not a grange. Most grave Brabantio, In simple and pure soul I come to you. Zouns Sir, you are one of those, that will not serve God, if the Devil bid you. Because we come to do you service, you think we are Ruffians, you'll have your daughter covered with a Barbary horse; you'll have your Nephews neigh to you; you'll have Coursers for Cousens, and Iennits for Iermans. What profane wretch art thou? I am one sir, that come to tell you, your daughter, and the Moor, are now making the Beast with two backs. Thou art a villain. You are a Senator. This thou shalt answer, I know thee Roderigo. Sir, I will answer any thing. But I beseech you, If she be in her Let lose on me the justice of the state, For this delusion. Strike on the tinder, Ho: Give me a taper, call up all my people: This accident is not unlike my dream, Belief of it oppresses me already: Light I say, light.
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)
What a full fortune does the thicklips owe, If he can carry'et thus? Call vp her father. Rowse him, make after him, poyson his delight, Proclaime him in the streete, incense her Kinsmen, And tho he in a fetile climate dwell, Plague him with lyes: tho that his ioy be ioy. Yet throw such of vexation out, As it may loose colour. Here is athers house, Ile call aloud. Doe with ike timerous accent, and dire yell, As when by night and negligence, the fire Is spied in populous Citties. What ho, Brabantio, Seignior Brabatio, ho, Awake, what ho, Brabati, Theeues, theeues, theeues: Looke to your house, you Daughter, and your bags, Theeues, theeues. What is the reason of this terrible summons? What is the matter there? Seignior, is all your family within? Are all doore lockts? Why, wherefore aske you this? Zounds sir you are robd, for shame put on your gowne, Your heart is burst, you haue lost alfe your soule; Euen now, very now, an old blacke Ram Is tupping your white Ewe; arise, arise, Awake the sorting Citizens with the Bell, Or else the Diuell will make a Grandsire of you, arise I say. What, haue you lost your wits? Most reuerend Seignior, doe you know my voyce? Not I, what are you? My name is Roderig. The worse welcome, I haue charg'd thee, not to haunt about my dores, In honest plainenesse, thou hast heard me say My dughter is not for thee, and now in madnes, Being full of supper, and distempering draughts, Vpon maliciou brauery, dost thou come To start my quiet? Sir, sir, sir. But thou must needes be sure My spirit and my place haue in them powe To make this bitter to thee. Patience good sir. What, tell'st thou me of robbing? this , My house is not a graunge. Most graue Brabanti, In simple and pure soule I come to you. Zouns Sir, you are one of those, that will not serue God, if the Deuill bid you. Because we come to doe you seruice, you thinke we are Ruffians, youle haue your daughter couered with a Barbary horse; youle haue your Nephewes ney to you; youle haue Coursers for Cousens, and Iennits for Iermans. What prophane wretch art thou? I am one sir, that come to tell you, your daughter, and the Moore, are now making the Beast with two backs. Thou art a villaine. You are a Senator. This thou sha , I know thee ▪ Sir, I will answer any thing▪ But I besech you, If she b in her Let loose on me the Iustice of the state, For this delusion. Strike on the tinder, Ho: Giue me a taper, call vp ally people: This accident is not vnlike my dreame, Beleefe of it oppresses me already: Light I say, light.