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 · 498 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.
To do what? To suckle fools, and chronicle small Beer. O most lame and impotent conclusion: Do not learn of him Emillia, though he be thy husband; How say you Cassio, is he not a most profane and liberal Counsellor? He speaks home Madam, you may relish him More in the Soldier then in the Scholar. He takes her by the palm; I well said, whisper: as little a web as this will ensnare as great a Flee as Cassio. I smile upon her, do: I will catch you in your own courtesies: you say true, 'tis so indeed. If such tricks as these strip you out of your Leiutenantry, it had been better you had not rist your three fingers so oft, which now again, you are most apt to play the sir in: good, well kissed, an excellent courtesy; 'tis so indeed: yet again, your fingers at your lips? Would they were Clisterpipes for your sake.— The Moor, I know his Trumpet. 'tis truly so. Let's meet him, and receive him. Lo, where he comes. O my fair Warriour. My dear Othello. It gives me wonder great as my content, To see you here before me: O my soul's joy, If after every tempest, come such calmness, May the winds blow, till they have wakened death, And let the labouring Bark climb hills of seas, Olympus' high, and duck again as low, As hell's from Heaven: If it were now to dye, 'Twere now to be most happy, for I fear My soul hath her content so absolute, That not another comfort, like to this Succeeds in unknown Fate, The Heavens forbidden, But that our loves and comforts should increase, Even as our days do grow. Amen to that sweet power, I cannot speak enough of this content, It stops me here, it is too much of joy: And this, and this, the greatest discord be, That ere our hearts shall make. O, you are well tuned now, But I'll set down the pegs, that make this music, As honest as I am. Come, let us to the Castle: News friends, our wars are done, the Turks are drowned: How do our old acquaintance of the Isle; Honey, you shall be well desired in Cypress; I have found great love amongst them: O my sweet, I prattle out of fashion, and I dote, In mine one comforts: I prithee good Iago, Go to the Bay, and disembark my Coffers; Bring thou the Master to the Citadel; He is a good one, and his worthiness, Does challenge much respect: come Desdemona, Once more well met at Cypress. Do thou meet me presently at the Harbour: come hither, If thou be'st valiant, as they say, base men being in love, have then a Nobility in their natures, more than is native to them— list me, the Lieutenant to night watches on the Court of Guard: first I will tell thee, this Desdemona is directly in love with him.
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)
To doe what? To suckle fooles, and chronicle small Beere. O most lame and impotent conclusion: Doe not learne of him Emillia, tho he be thy husband; How say you Cassio, is he not a most prophane and liberall Counsellour? He speakes home Madam, you may rellish him More in the Souldier then in the Scholler. He takes her by the palme; I well sed, whisper: as little a webbe as this will ensnare as great a Flee as Cassio. I smile vpon her, doe: I will catch you in yor owne courtesies: you say true, tis so indeed. If such trickes as these▪ strip you out of your Leiutenantry, it had beene better you had not rist your three fingers so oft, which now againe, you are most apt to play the sir in: good, well kist, an excellent courtesie; tis so indeed: yet againe, your fingers at your lips? Would they were Clisterpipes for your sake.—The Moore, I know his Trumpet. Tis truely so. Lets meete him, and receiue him. Loe, wher he comes. O my faire Warriou. My deare Othello. It giues me wonder great as my content, To see you here before me: O my soules ioy, If after euery tempest, come such calmenesse, May the winds blow, till they haue wakened death, And let the labouring Barke clime hills of seas, Olympus high, and duck againe as low, As hell's from Heauen: If it were now to dye, T'were now to be most happy, for I feare My soule hath her content so absolute, That not another comfort, like to this Succeeds in vnknowne Fate, The Heauens forbid, But that our loues and comforts should increase, Euen as our dayes doe growe. Amen to that sweete power, I cannot speake enough of this content, It stops me heere, it is too much of ioy: And this, and this, the greatest discord be, That ere our hearts shall make. O, you are well tun'd now, But I'le set downe the pegs, that make this musique, As honest as I am. Come, let vs to the Castle: Newes friends, our warres are done, the Turks are drownd: How doe our old acquaintance of the Isle; Honny, you shall be well desir'd in Cypres; I haue found great loue amongst them: O my sweete, I prattle out of fashion, and I dote, In mine one comforts: I preethee good Iago, Goe to the Bay, and disimbarke my Coffers; Bring thou the Master to the Cittadell; He is a good one, and his worthinesse, Does challenge much respect: come Dsdemona, Once more well met at Cypres. Doe thou meete me presently at the Habour: come hither, If thou beest valiant, as they say, base men being in loue, haue then a Nobility in their natures, more then is natiue to them—list me, the Leiutenant to night watches on the Court of Guard: first I will tell thee, this Desdemona is directly in loue with him.