Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1604 [c.1603-1604] (Annals) tragedy · King's Men unassigned nearest T50 Fleets, armies and generals: war by sea · 485 words
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. Alas Gentlemen: Help hoa. Lieutenant. Sir Montano: Help Masters. here's a goodly Watch indeed. Who's that which rings the Bell: Diablo, hoa: The Town will rise. Fie, fie Lieutenant, You'll be ashamed for ever. What is the matter here? I bleed still, I am hurt to th' death. He dies. Hold for your lives. Hold hoa: Lieutenant, Sir Montano, Gentlemen: Have you forgot all place of sense and duty? Hold. The General speaks to you: hold for shame. Why how now hoa? From whence ariseth this? Are we turned Turks? and to ourselves do that Which Heaven hath forbid the Ottamittes. For Christian shame, put by this barbarous Brawl: He that stirs next, to carve for his own rage, Holds his soul light: He dies upon his Motion. Silence that dreadful Bell, it frights the Isle, From her propriety. What is 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 for Bed: and then, but now: (As if some Planet had vnwitted men) Swords out, and tilting one at others breasts, In opposition bloody. I cannot speak Any beginning to this peevish odds. And would, in Action glorious, I had lost Those legs, that brought me to a part of it. How comes it (Michael) you are thus forgot? I pray you pardon me, I cannot speak. Worthy Montano, you were wont to be civil: The gravity, and stillness of your youth The world hath noted. And your name is great In mouths 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 it. 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-charitie be sometimes 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 collied) Assays to lead the way. If I once 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, Though he had twinned with me, both at a birth, Shall lose me. What in a Town of war, Yet wild, the people's hearts brimful of fear, To Manage private, and domestic Quarrel? In night, and on the Court and Guard of safety? 'Tis monstrous: Iago, who beganed?
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: go out and cry a Mutinie. Nay good Lieutenant. Alas Gentlemen: Helpe hoa. Lieutenant. Sir Montano: Helpe Maſters. Heere's a goodly Watch indeed. Who's that which rings the Bell: Diablo, hoa: The Towne will riſe. Fie, fie Lieutenant, You'le be aſham'd for euer. What is the matter heere? I bleed ſtill, I am hurt to th' death. He dies. Hold for your liues. Hold hoa: Lieutenant, Sir Montano, Gentlemen: Haue you forgot all place of ſenſe and dutie? Hold. The Generall ſpeaks to you: hold for ſhame. Why how now hoa? From whence ariſeth this? Are we turn'd Turkes? and to our ſelues do that Which Heauen hath forbid the Ottamittes. For Chriſtian ſhame, put by this barbarous Brawle: He that ſtirs next, to carue for his owne rage, Holds his ſoule light: He dies vpon his Motion. Silence that dreadfull Bell, it frights the Iſle, From her propriety. What is the matter, Maſters? Honeſt Iago that lookes dead with greeuing, Speake: who began this? On thy loue I charge thee? I do not know: Friends all, but now, euen now. In Quarter, and in termes like Bride, and Groome Deueſting them for Bed: and then, but now: (As if ſome Planet had vnwitted men) Swords out, and tilting one at others breaſtes, In oppoſition bloody. I cannot ſpeake Any begining to this peeuiſh oddes. And would, in Action glorious, I had loſt Thoſe legges, that brought me to a part of it. How comes it (Michaell) you are thus forgot? I pray you pardon me, I cannot ſpeake. Worthy Montano, you were wont to be ciuill: The grauitie, and ſtillneſſe of your youth The world hath noted. And your name is great In mouthes 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 it. 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 do know, nor know I ought By me, that's ſaid, or done amiſſe this night, Vnleſſe ſelfe-charitie be ſometimes a vice, And to defend our ſelues, it be a ſinne When violence aſſailes vs. Now by Heauen, My blood begins my ſafer Guides to rule, And paſſion (hauing my beſt iudgement collied) Aſſaies to leade the way. If I once ſtir, Or do 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 approu'd in this offence, Though he had twinn'd with me, both at a birth, Shall looſe me. What in a Towne of warre, Yet wilde, the peoples hearts brim-full of feare, To Manage priuate, and domeſticke Quarrell? In night, and on the Court and Guard of ſafetie? 'Tis monſtrous: Iago, who began't?