Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1604 [c.1603-1604] (Annals) tragedy · King's Men T1 Death, grief and revenge typicality 0.78 · 490 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
By Heaven I saw my Handkerchief in's hand. O perjured woman, thou dost stone my heart, And makes me call, what I intent to do, A Murder, which I thought a Sacrifice. I saw the Handkerchief. He found it then: I never gave it him: Send, for him hither: Let him confess a truth. He hath confessed. What, my Lord? That he hath used thee. How? unlawfully? I. He will not say so. No: his mouth is stopped: Honest Iago hath ' ta'en order for't. Oh, my fear interprets. What is he dead? Had all his hairs been lives, my great Revenge Had stomach for them all. Alas, he is betrayed, and I undone. Out Strumpet: weep'st thou for him to my face? O banish me, my Lord, but kill me not. down Strumpet. Kill me to morrow, let me live to night. Nay, if you strive. But half an hour. Being done, there is no pause. But while I say one prayer. It is too late. My Lord, my Lord? What hoa? My Lord, my Lord. What noise is this? Not dead? not yet quite dead? I that am cruel, am yet merciful, I would not have thee linger in thy pain? So, so. What hoa? my Lord, my Lord? Who's there? Oh good my Lord, I would speak a word with you. Yes: 'Tis Aemilia: by and by. she's dead. 'Tis like she comes to speak of Cassio's death: The noise was high. Ha, no more moving? Still as the Grave. Shall she come in? Were't good? I think she stirs again. No, what's best to do? If she come in, she'll sure speak to my wife: My wife, my wife: what wife? I have no wife. Oh insupportable! Oh heavy hour! Me thinks, it should be now a huge Eclipse Of Sun, and Moon; and that th' affrighted Globe Did yawn at Alteration. I do beseech you That I may speak with you. Oh good my Lord. I had forgot thee: oh come in Aemilia. Soft, by and by, let me the Curtains draw. Where art thou? What's the matter with thee now? Oh my good Lord, yonder's foul Murders done. What? now? But now, my Lord. It is the very error of the Moon, She comes more nearer Earth than she was wont, And makes men mad. Cassio, my Lord, hath killed A young Venetian, called Rodorigo. Rodorigo killed? and Cassio killed? No, Cassio is not killed. Not Cassio killed? Then murder's out of tune, And sweet Revenge grows harsh. O falsely, falsely murdered. Alas! what cry is that? That? What? Out, and alas, that was my Lady's voice. Help, help hoa, help. Oh Lady speak again, Sweet Desdemona, oh sweet Mistress, speak. A guiltless death, I die. Oh who hath done this deed? No body: I myself, farewell: Commend me to my kind Lord: oh farewell. Why, how should she be murdered? Alas: who knows?
nodes 2840–2917 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 48 of 52 in this edition
Length
490 words · 715 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T1 — Death, grief and revengecross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.781 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
seed 43: T7 · seed 44: T1 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
By Heauen I ſaw my Handkerchiefe in's hand. O periur'd woman, thou do'ſt ſtone my heart, And makes me call, what I intend to do, A Murther, which I thought a Sacrifice. I ſaw the Handkerchiefe. He found it then: I neuer gaue it him: Send, for him hither: Let him confeſſe a truth. He hath confeſt. What, my Lord? That he hath vs'd thee. How? vnlawfully? I. He will not ſay ſo. No: his mouth is ſtopp'd: Honeſt Iago hath 'tane order for't. Oh, my feare interprets. What is he dead? Had all his haires bin liues, my great Reuenge Had ſtomacke for them all. Alas, he is betray'd, and I vndone. Out Strumpet: weep'ſt thou for him to my face? O baniſh me, my Lord, but kill me not. Downe Strumpet. Kill me to morrow, let me liue to night. Nay, if you ſtriue. But halfe an houre. Being done, there is no pawſe. But while I ſay one prayer. It is too late. My Lord, my Lord? What hoa? My Lord, my Lord. What noiſe is this? Not dead? not yet quite dead? I that am cruell, am yet mercifull, I would not haue thee linger in thy paine? So, ſo. What hoa? my Lord, my Lord? Who's there? Oh good my Lord, I would ſpeake a word with you. Yes: 'Tis Aemilia: by and by. Shee's dead. 'Tis like ſhe comes to ſpeake of Caſſio's death: The noiſe was high. Hah, no more moouing? Still as the Graue. Shall he come in? Wer't good? I thinke ſhe ſtirres againe. No, what's beſt to do? If ſhe come in, ſhee'l ſure ſpeake to my wife: My wife, my wife: what wife? I haue no wife. Oh inſupportable! Oh heauy houre! Me thinkes, it ſhould be now a huge Eclipſe Of Sunne, and Moone; and that th' affrighted Globe Did yawne at Alteration. I do beſeech you That I may ſpeake with you. Oh good my Lord. I had forgot thee: oh come in Aemilia. Soft, by and by, let me the Curtaines draw. Where art thou? What's the matter with thee now? Oh my good Lord, yonders foule Murthers done. What? now? But now, my Lord. It is the very error of the Moone, She comes more neerer Earth then ſhe was wont, And makes men mad. Caſſio, my Lord, hath kill'd A young Venetian, call'd Rodorigo. Rodorigo kill'd? and Caſſio kill'd? No▪ Caſſio is not kill'd. Not Caſſio kill'd? Then Murther's out of tune, And ſweet Reuenge growes harſh. O falſely, falſely murder'd. Alas! what cry is that? That? What? Out, and alas, that was my Ladies voice. Helpe, helpe hoa, helpe. Oh Ladie ſpeake againe, Sweet Deſdemona, oh ſweet Miſtris, ſpeake. A guiltleſſe death, I dye. Oh who hath done this deed? No body: I my ſelfe, farewell: Commend me to my kinde Lord: oh farewell. Why, how ſhould ſhe be murdred? Alas: who knowes?