Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1604 [c.1603-1604] (Annals) tragedy · King's Men T1 Death, grief and revenge typicality 0.70 · 496 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
You hear her say herself, it was not I. She said so: I must needs report the truth. She's like a Liar gone to burning hell, 'Twas I that killed her. Oh the more Angel she, and you the blacker Devil. She turned to folly: and she was a whore. Thou dost belly her, and thou art a devil. She was false as water. Thou art rash as fire, to say That she was false. Oh she was heavenly true. Cassio did top her: Ask thy husband else. O, I were damned beneath all depth in hell: But that I did proceed upon just grounds To this extremity. Thy Husband knew it all. My Husband? Thy Husband. That she was false to Wedlock? I, with Cassio: had she been true, If Heaven would make me such another world, Of one entire and perfect Chrysolite, I'd not have sold her for it. My Husband? I, 'twas he that told me on her first, An honest man he is, and hates the slime That sticks on filthy deeds. My Husband? What needs this itterance, Woman? I say, thy Husband. Oh Mistress, Villainy hath made mocks with love: My Husband say she was false? He, Woman; I say thy Husband: Dost understand the word? My Friend, thy Husband; honest, honest Iago. If he say so, may his pernicious Soul Rot halfe a grain a day: he lies to ' th' heart, She was too fond of her most filthy Bargain. Ha? Do thy worst: This deed of thine is no more worthy Heaven, Then thou was't worthy her. Peace, you were best. Thou hast not half that power to do me harm, As I have to be hurt. Oh Gull, oh dolt, As ignorant as dirt: thou hast done a deed (I care not for thy Sword) I'll make thee known, Though I lost twenty lives. Help, help, hoa, help: The Moor hath killed my Mistress. Murder, murder. What is the matter? How now General? Oh, are you come, Iago: you have done well, That men must lay their Murders on your neck. What is the matter? Disprove this Villain, if thou be'st a man: He says, thou told'st him that his wife was false: I know thou didst not: thou'rt not such a Villain. Speak, for my heart is full. I told him what I thought, And told no more Than what he found himself was apt, and true. But did you ever tell him, She was false? I did. You told a Lie an odious damned Lie: Upon my Soul, a Lie; a wicked Lye. She false with Cassio? Did you say with Cassio? With Cassio, Mistress? Go too, charm your tongue. I will not charm my Tongue; I am bound to speak, My Mistress here lies murdered in her bed. Oh Heavens, forfend. And your reports have set the Murder on. Nay stare not Masters, It is true indeed. 'Tis a strange Truth. O monstrous Act.
nodes 2918–2994 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 49 of 52 in this edition
Length
496 words · 673 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T1 — Death, grief and revengecross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.695 (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)
You heare her ſay her ſelfe, it was not I. She ſaid ſo: I muſt needs report the truth. She's like a Liar gone to burning hell, 'Twas I that kill'd her. Oh the more Angell ſhe, and you the blacker Diuell. She turn'd to folly: and ſhe was a whore. Thou do'ſt bely her, and thou art a diuell. She wa falſe as water. Thou at raſh as fire, to ſay That ſhe was falſe. Oh ſhe was heauenly true. Caſſio did top her: Ask thy husband elſe. O, I were damn'd beneath all depth in hell: But that I did proceed vpon iuſt grounds To this extremity. Thy Husband knew it all. My Husband? Thy Husband. That ſhe was falſe to Wedlocke? I, with Caſſio: had ſhe bin true, If Heauen would make me ſuch another world, Of one entyre and perfect Chryſolite, I'ld not haue ſold her for it. My Husband? I, 'twas he that told me on her firſt, An honeſt man he is, and hates the ſlime That ſtickes on filthy deeds. My Husband? What needs this itterance, Woman? I ſay, thy Husband. Oh Miſtris, Villany hath made mockes with loue: My Husband ſay ſhe was falſe? He, Woman; I ſay thy Husband: Do'ſt vnderſtand the word? My Friend, thy Husband; honeſt, honeſt Iago. If he ſay ſo, may his pernicious Soule Rot halfe a graine a day: he lyes to' th' heart, She was too fond of her moſt filthy Bargaine. Hah? Do thy worſt: This deede of thine is no more worthy Heauen, Then thou was't worthy her. Peace, you were beſt. Thou haſt not halfe that powre to do me harm, As I haue to be hurt. Oh Gull, oh dolt, As ignorant as durt: thou haſt done a deed (I care not for thy Sword) Ile make thee known, Though I loſt twenty liues. Helpe, helpe, hoa, helpe: The Moore hath kill'd my Miſtris. Murther, murther. What is the matter? How now Generall? Oh, are you come, Iago: you haue done well, That men muſt lay their Murthers on your necke. What is the matter? Diſproue this Villaine, if thou bee'ſt a man: He ſayes, thou told'ſt him that his wife was falſe: I know thou did'ſt not: thou'rt not ſuch a Villain. Speake, for my heart is full. I told him what I thought, And told no more Then what he found himſelfe was apt, and true. But did you euer tell him, She was falſe? I did. You old a Lye an odious damned Lye: Vpon my Soule, a Lye; a wicked Lye. Shee falſe with Caſſio? Did you ſay with Caſſio? With Caſſio, Miſtris? Go too, charme your tongue. I will not charme my Tongue; I am bound to ſpeake, My Miſtris heere lyes murthered in her bed. Oh Heauens, foreſend. And your reports haue ſet the Murder on. Nay ſtare not Maſters, It is true indeede. 'Tis a ſtrange Truth. O monſtrous Acte.