Shakespeare, William · published 1622 · first performed or written 1604 [c.1603-1604] (Annals) tragedy · King's Men · Blackfriars unassigned nearest T23 Husbands, wives and jealousy · 499 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T23: wife, husband, cuckold, jealousy, woman, jealous, mistress, love, house, honest.
I should be wise, for honesties a fool, And loses that it works for: I see sir, you are eaten up with passion, I do repent me that I put it to you, You would be satisfied. Would, nay, I will. And many, but how, how satisfied my Lord? Would you, the supervisor grossly gape on, Behold her topped? Death and damnation— oh. It were a tedious difficulty I think, To bring 'em to that prospect, dam'em then, If ever mortal eyes did see them bolster More than their own; what then, how then? What shall I say? where's satisfaction? It is impossible you should see this. Were they as prime as Goats, as hot as Monkeys, As salt as Wolves, in pride; and fools as gross, As ignorance made drunk: But yet I say, If imputation and strong circumstances, Which lead directly to the door of truth, Will give you satisfaction, you may have't. give me a living reason, that she's disloyal. I do not like the office, But Sith I am entered into this cause so far, Pricked to't by foolish honesty and love, I will go on: I lay with Cassio lately, And being troubled with a raging tooth, I could not sleep. There are a kind of men so lose of soul, That in their sleeps will mutter their affairs, One of this kind is Cassio: In sleep I heard him say. Sweet Desdemona, Let us be merry, let us hide our loves; And then sir, would he gripe and wring my hand, Cry out, sweet creature, and then kiss me hard, As if he plucked up kisses by the roots, That grew upon my lips, than laid his leg Over my thigh, and sighed, and kissed, and then Cried, cursed fate, that gave thee to the Moor. O Monstros, monstrous. Nay, this was but his dream. But this devoted a foregone conclusion, 'tis a shrewd doubt, though it be but a dream, And this may help to thicken other proofs, That do demonstrate thinly. I'll tear her all to pieces. Nay, but be wise, yet we see nothing done, She may be honest yet, tell me but this, Have you not sometimes seen a handkerchief, Spotted with strawberries in your wife's hand. I gave her such a one, 'twas my first gift. I know not that, but such a handkerchief, I am sure it was your wives, did I to day See Cassio wipe his beard with. I't be that. If it be that, or any, it was hers, It speaks against her, with the other proofs. O that the slave had forty thousand lives, One is too poor, too weak for my reuenge: Now do I see 'tis time, look here Iago, All my fond love, thus do I blow to heaven,— 'tis gone. Arise black vengeance, from thy hollow Cell, Yield up O love thy crown, and hearted Throne, To tyrannous hate, swell bosom with thy fraught, For 'tis of Aspecks tongues.
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)
I should be wise, for honestie's a foole, And looses that it workes for: I see sir, you are eaten vp with passion, I doe repent me that I put it to you, You wou'd be satisfied. Would, nay, I will. And many, but how, how satisfied my Lord? Would you, the superuisor grossely gape on, Behold her topt? Death and damnation—oh. It were a tedious difficulty I thinke, To bring em to that prospect, dam'em then, If euer mortall eyes did see them boulster More then their owne; what then, how then? What shall I say? where's satisfaction? It is impossible you should see this. Were they as prime as Goates, as hot as Monkies, As salt as Wolues, in pride; and fooles as groe, As ignorance made drunke: But yet I say, If imputation and trong circumstans, Which leade directly to the doore of truth, Will giue you satisaction, you may ha't. iue me a liuing reason, that shee's disloyall. I doe not like the office, But th I am enter'd into this cause so farre, Prickt to't by foolish honesty and loue, I will goe on: I lay with Cassio lately, And being troubled with a raging tooth, I could not sleep. There are a kinde of men so loose of soule, That in their sleepes will mutter their affaires, One of this kinde is Cassio: In sleepe I heard him say. Sweete Desdemona, Let vs be merry, let vs hide our loues; And then sir, would he gripe and wring my hand, Cry out, sweete creature, and then kisse me hard, As if he pluckt vp kisses by the rootes, That grew vpon my lips, then layed his leg Ouer my thigh, and sigh'd, and kissed, and then Cried, cursed fate, that gaue thee to the Moore. O Monstros, monstrous. Nay, this was but his dreame. But this deuoted a fore-gone conclusion, Tis a shrewd doubt, tho it be but a dreame, And this may helpe to thicken other proofes, That doe demonstrate thinly. I'le teare her all to peeces. Nay, but be wise, yet we see nothing don, She may be honest yet, tell me but this, Haue you not sometimes seene a handkercher, Spotted with strawberries in your wiues hand. I gaue her such a one, twas my first gift. I know not that, but such a handkercher, I am ure it was your wiues, did I to day See Cassio wipe his beard with. I't be that. If it be that, or any, it was hers, It speakes against her, with the other proofes. O that the slaue had forty thousand liues, One is too poore, too weake for my ruenge: Now doe I see tis time, looke here Iago, All my fond loue, thus doe I blow to heauen,—tis gone. Arise blacke vengeance, from thy hollow Cell, Yeeld vp O loue thy crowne, and harted Throne, To tirranous hate, swell bosome with thy fraught, For tis of Aspecks tongues.