Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1611 (Annals) comedy · King's Men unassigned nearest T57 Ships, merchants and pirates · 494 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T57: ship, sea, master, sail, home, money, pisaro, life, ships, till.
If by your Art (my dearest father) you have Put the wild waters in this roar; allay them: The sky it seems would pour down stinking pitch, But that the Sea, mounting to th' welkin's cheek, Dashes the fire out. Oh! I have suffered With those that I saw suffer: A brave vessel (Who had no doubt some noble creature in her) Dashed all to pieces: O the cry did knock Against my very heart: poor souls, they perished. Had I been any God of power, I would Have sunk the Sea within the Earth, or ere It should the good Ship so have swallowed, and The fraughting Souls within her. Be collected, No more amazement: Tell your piteous heart there's no harm done. O woe, the day. No harm: I have done nothing, but in care of thee (Of thee my dear one; thee my daughter) who Art ignorant of what thou art, naught knowing Of whence I am: nor that I am more better Than Prospero, Master of a full poor cell, And thy no greater Father. More to know Did never meddle with my thoughts. 'Tis time I should inform thee farther: Lend thy hand And pluck my Magic garment from me: So, Lie there my Art: wipe thou thine eyes, have comfort, The direful spectacle of the wrack which touched The very virtue of compassion in thee: I have with such provision in mine Art So safely ordered, that there is no soul No not so much perdition as an hair Betided to any creature in the vessel Which thou heardst cry, which thou saw'st sink: Sat down, For thou must now know farther. You have often Begun to tell me what I am, but stopped And left me to a bootless Inquisition, Concluding, stay: not yet. The howrs now come The very minute bids thee open thine care, Obey, and be attentive. Canst thou remember A time before we came unto this Cell? I do not think thou canst, for than thou was't not Out three years old. Certainly Sir, I can. By what? by any other house, or person? Of any thing the Image, tell me, that Hath kept with thy remembrance. 'Tis far off: And rather like a dream, than an assurance That my remembrance warrants: Had I not Four, or five women once, that tended me? Thou hadst; and more Miranda: But how is it That this lives in thy mind? What seest thou else In the dark-backward and Abysm of Time? If thou remember'st aught ere thou cam'st here, How thou cam'st here thou mayst. But that I do not. Twelve year since (Miranda) twelve year since, Thy father was the Duke of Milan and A Prince of power: Sir, are not you my Father? Thy Mother was a piece of virtue, and She said thou wast my daughter; and thy father Was Duke of Milan, and his only heir, And Princess; no worse Issued.
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)
If by your Art (my deereſt father) you haue Put the wild waters in this Roe; alay them: The skye it ſeemes would powre down ſtinking pitch, But that the Sea, mounting to th' welkins cheeke, Daſhes the fire out. Oh! I haue ſuffered With thoſe that I ſaw ſuffer: A braue veſſell (Who had no doubt ſome noble creature in her) Daſh'd all to peeces: O the cry did knocke Againſt my very heart: poore ſoules, they periſh'd. Had I byn any God of power, I would Haue ſuncke the Sea within the Earth, or ere It ſhould the good Ship ſo haue ſwallow'd, and The fraughting Soules within her. Be collected, No more amazement: Tell your pitteous heart there's no harme done. O woe, the day. No harme: I haue done nothing, but in care of thee (Of thee my deere one; thee my daughter) who Art ignorant of what thou art▪ naught knowing Of whence I am: nor that I am more better Then Proſpero, Maſter of a full poore cell, And thy no greater Father. More to know Did neuer medle with my thoughts. 'Tis time I ſhould informe thee farther: Lend thy hand And plucke my Magick garment from me: So, Lye there my Art: wipe thou thine eyes, haue comfort, The direfull ſpectacle of the wracke which touch'd The very vertue of compaſſion in thee: I haue with ſuch prouiſion in mine Art So ſafely ordered, that there is no ſoule No not ſo much perdition as an hayre Betid to any creature in the veſſell Which thou heardſt cry, which thou ſaw'ſt ſinke: Sit downe, For thou muſt now know farther. You haue often Begun to tell me what I am, but ſtopt And left me to a booteleſſe Inquiſition, Concluding, ſtay: not yet. The howr's now come The very minute byds thee ope thine care, Obey, and be attentiue. Canſt thou remember A time before we came vnto this Cell? I doe not thinke thou canſt, for then thou was't not Out three yeeres old. Certainely Sir, I can. By what? by any other houſe, or perſon? Of any thing the Image, tell me, that Hath kept with thy remembrance. 'Tis farre off: And rather like a dreame, then an aſſurance That my remembrance warrants: Had I not Fowre, or fiue women once, that tended me? Thou hadſt; and more Miranda: But how is it That this liues in thy minde? What ſeeſt thou els In the dark-backward and Abiſme of Time? Yf thou remembreſt ought ere thou cam'ſt here, How thou cam'ſt here thou maiſt. But that I doe not. Twelue yere ſince (Miranda) twelue yere ſince, Thy father was the Duke of Millaine and A Prince of power: Sir, are not you my Father? Thy Mother was a peece of vertue, and She ſaid thou waſt my daughter; and thy father Was Duke of Millaine, and his onely heire, And Princeſſe; no worſe Iſſued.