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 · 487 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.
Away I say, go out and cry a mutiny. Nay good Lieutenant: god will Gentlemen, Help ho, Lieutenant: Sir Montanio, sir, Help masters, here's a goodly watch indeed, Who's that that rings the bell? Diablo— ho, The town will rise, godswill Leiutenant, hold, You will be shamed for ever. What is the matter here? Zouns, I bleed still, I am hurt, to the death: Hold, for your lives. Hold, hold Lieutenant, sir Montanio, Gentlemen, Have you forgot all place of sense, and duty: Hold, the General speaks to you; hold, hold, for shame. Why how now ho, from whence arises this? Are we turned Turks, and to ourselves do that, Which Heaven has forbid the Ottamites: For Christian shame, put by this barbarous brawl; He that stirs next, to carve forth his own rage, Holds his soul light, he dies upon his motion; Silence that dreadful bell, it frights the Isle From her propriety: what's the matter masters? Honest Iago, that looks dead with grieving, Speak, who began this, on thy love I charge thee. I do not know, friends all but now, even now, In quarter, and in terms, like bride and groom, Divesting them to bed, and then but now, As if some planet had vnwitted men, Swords out, and tilting one at others breast, In opposition bloody. I cannot speak Any beginning to this peevish odds; And would in action glorious, I had lost These legs, that brought me to a part of it. How came it Michael, you were thus forgot? I pray you pardon me, I cannot speak. Worthy Montanio, you were wont be civil, The gravity and stillness of your youth, The world hath noted, and your name is great, In men of wisest censure: what's the matter That you unlace your reputation thus, And spend your rich opinion, for the name Of a night brawler? give me answer to't? Worthy Othello, I am hurt to danger, Your Officer Iago can inform you, While I spare speech, which something now offends me, Of all that I do know, nor know I ought By me, that's said or done amiss this night, Unless selfe-charity be sometime a vice, And to defend ourselves it be a sin, When violence assails us. Now by heaven My blood begins my safer guides to rule, And passion having my best judgement cooled, Assays to lead the way. Zouns, if I stir, Or do but lift this arm, the best of you Shall sink in my rebuke: give me to know How this foul rout began, who set it on, And he that is approved in this offence, Tho he had twined with me, both at a birth, Shall lose me; what, in a Town of war, Yet wild, the people's hearts brim full of fear, To manage private and domestic quarrels, In night, and on the Court and guard of safety? 'tis monstrous. Iago, who began?
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)
Away I say, goe out and cry a muteny. Nay good Leiutenant: god will Gentlemen, Helpe h, Leiutenant: Sir Montanio, sir, Helpe maisters, here's a goodly watch indeed, Who's that that rings the bell? Dablo—ho, The owne will rise, godswill Leiutenant, hold, You will be sham'd for euer. What is the matter here? Zouns, I bleed still, I am hurt, to the death: Hold, for your liues. Hold, hold Leiutenant, sir Montanio, Gentlemen, Haue you forgot all place of sence, and duty: Hold, the Generall speakes to you; hold, hold, for shame. Why how now ho, from whence arises this? Are we turn'd Turkes, and to our selues doe that, Which Heauen has forbid the ttamites: For Christian shame, put by this barbarous brawle; He that stirres nex, to carue forth his owne rage, Holds his soule light, he dies vpon his motion; Silence that dreadfull bell, it frights the Isle From her propriety: what's the matter masters? Honest Iago, that lookes dead with grieuing, Speake, who began this, on thy loue I charge thee. I doe not know, friends all but now, euen now, In quarter, and in termes, like bride and groome, Deuesting them to bed, and then but now, As if some plannet had vnwitted men, Swords out, and tilting one at others breast, In opposition bloody. I cannot speake Any beginnin to this peeuish odds; And would in action glorious, I had lost These legges, that brought me to a pat of it. How came it Michael, you were thus forgot? I pray you pardon me, I cannot speake. Worthy Montanio, you were wont be ciuill, The grauity and stilnesse of your youth, The world hath noted, and your name is great, In men of wisest censure: what's the matter That you vnlace your reputation thus, And spend your rich opinion, for the name Of a night brawler? giue me answer to't? Worthy Othello, I am hurt to danger, Your Officer Iago can informe you, While I spare speech, which something now offends me, Of all that I doe know, nor know I ought By me, that's sed or done amisse this night, Vnlesse selfe-charity be sometime a vice, And to defend our selues it be a sinne, When violence assayles vs. Now by heauen My blood begins my safer guides to rule▪ And passion hauing my best iudgement coold, Assayes to leade the way. Zouns, if I stirre, Or doe but lift this arme, the best of you Shall sinke in my rebuke: giue me to know How this foule rout began, who set it on, And he that is approou'd in this offence, Tho he had twin'd with me, both at a birth, Shall loose me; what, in a Towne of warre, Yet wild, the peoples hearts brim full of feare, To mannage priuate and domesticke quarrels, In night, and on the Court and guard of safety? Tis monstrous. Iago, who began?