Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1611 (Annals) comedy · King's Men unassigned nearest T57 Ships, merchants and pirates · 487 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T57: ship, sea, master, sail, home, money, pisaro, life, ships, till.
That our Garments being (as they were) drenched in the Sea, hold notwithstanding their freshness and glosses, being rather new died then stained with salt water. If but one of his pockets could speak, would it not say he lies? I, or very falsely pocket up his report. Me thinks our garments are now as fresh as when we put them on first in Africa, at the marriage of the kings fair daughter Claribel to the king of Tunis. 'Twas a sweet marriage, and we prosper well in our return. Tunis was never graced before with such a Paragon to their Queen. Not since widow Dido's time. Widow? A pox o' that: how came that Widow in? Widow Dido! What if he had said Widower Aeneas too? Good Lord, how you take it? Widow Dido said you? You make me study of that: She was of Carthage, not of Tunis. This Tunis Sir was Carthage. Carthage? I assure you Carthage. His word is more than the miraculous Harp. He hath raised the wall, and houses too. What impossible matter will he make easy next? I think he will carry this Island home in his pocket, and give it his son for an Apple. And sowing the kernels of it in the Sea, bring forth more Islands. I. Why in good time. Sir, we were talking, that our garments seem now as fresh as when we were at Tunis at the marriage of your daughter, who is now Queen. And the rarest that ere came there. Bate (I beseech you) widow Dido. O Widow Dido? I, Widow Dido. Is not Sir my doublet as fresh as the first day I wore it? I mean in a sort. That sort was well fished for. When I wore it at your daughter's marriage. You cram these words into mine ears, against the stomach of my sense: would I had never Married my daughter there: For coming thence My son is lost, and (in my rate) she too, Who is so far from Italy removed, I ne'er again shall see her: O thou mine heir Of Naples and of Milan, what strange fish Hath made his meal on thee? Sir he may live, I saw him beat the surges under him, And ride upon their backs; he trod the water Whose enmity he fling aside: and breasted The surge most swollen that met him: his bold head 'Boue the contentious waves he kept, and oared Himself with his good arms in lusty stroke To th' shore; that o'er his wave-worne basis bowed As stooping to relieve him: I not doubt He came alive to Land. No, no, he's gone. Sir you may thank yourself for this great loss, That would not bless our Europe with your daughter, But rather lose her to an African, Where she at least, is banished from your eye, Who hath cause to wet the grief on't.
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)
That our Garments being (as they were) drencht in the Sea, hold notwithſtanding their freſhneſſe and gloſſes, being rather new dy'de then ſtain'd with ſalte water. If but one of his pockets could ſpeake, would it not ſay he lyes? I, or very falſely pocket vp his report. Me thinkes our garments are now as freſh as when we put them on firſt in Affricke, at the marriage of the kings faire daughter Claribel to the king of Tunis. 'Twas a ſweet marriage, and we proſper well in our returne. Tunis was neuer grac'd before with ſuch a Paragon to their Queene. Not ſince widdow Dido's time. Widow? A pox o' that: how came that Widdow in? Widdow Dido! What if he had ſaid Widdower Aeneas too? Good Lord, how you take it? Widdow Dido ſaid you? You make me ſtudy of that: She was of Carthage, not of Tunis. This Tunis Sir was Carthage. Carthage? I aſſure you Carthage. His word is more then the miraculous Harpe. He hath rais'd the wall, and houſes too. What impoſsible matter wil he make eaſy next? I thinke hee will carry this Iſland home in his pocket, and giue it his ſonne for an Apple. And ſowing the kernels of it in the Sea, bring forth more Iſlands. I. Why in good time. Sir, we were talking, that our garments ſeeme now as freſh as when we were at Tunis at the marriage of your daughter, who is now Queene. And the rareſt that ere came there. Bate (I beſeech you) widdow Dido. O Widdow Dido? I, Widdow Dido. Is not Sir my doublet as freſh as the firſt day I wore it? I meane in a ſort. That ſort was well fiſh'd for. When I wore it at your daughters marriage. You cram theſe words into mine eares, againſt the ſtomacke of my ſenſe: would I had neuer Married my daughter there: For comming thence My ſonne is loſt, and (in my rate) ſhe too, Who is ſo farre from Italy remoued, I ne're againe ſhall ſee her: O thou mine heire Of Naples and of Millaine, what ſtrange fiſh Hath made his meale on thee? Sir he may liue, I ſaw him beate the ſurges vnder him, And ride vpon their backes; he trod the water Whoſe enmity he flung aſide: and breſted The ſurge moſt ſwolne that met him: his bold head 'Boue the contentious waues he kept▪ and oared Himſelfe with his good armes in luſty ſtroke To th' ſhore; that ore his waue-worne baſis bowed As ſtooping to releeue him: I not doubt He came aliue to Land. No, no, hee's gone. Sir you may thank your ſelfe for this great loſſe, That would not bleſſe our Europe with your daughter, But rather looſe her to an Affrican, Where ſhe at leaſt, is baniſh'd from your eye, Who hath cauſe to wet the greefe on't.