Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1611 (Annals) comedy · King's Men unassigned nearest T57 Ships, merchants and pirates · 492 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T57: ship, sea, master, sail, home, money, pisaro, life, ships, till.
Herd you this Gonzalo? Upon mine honour, Sir, I heard a humming, (And that a strange one too) which did awake me: I shaked you Sir, and cried: as mine eyes opened, I saw their weapons drawn: there was a noise, That's verily: 'tis best we stand upon our guard; Or that we quit this place: let's draw our weapons. Led off this ground & let's make further search For my poor son. heavens keep him from these Beasts: For he is sure i' th' Island. Led away. Prospero my Lord, shall know what I have done. So (King) go safely on to seek thy Son. All the infections that the Sun sucks up From Bogs, Fens, Flats, on Prosper fall, and make him By ynchmeale a disease: his Spirits hear me, And yet I needs must curse. But they'll nor pinch, Fright me with Vrchyn-shewes, pitch me i' th' mire, Nor lead me like a firebrand, in the dark Out of my way, unless he bid 'em; but For every trifle, are they set upon me, Sometime like Apes, that moe and chatter at me, And after bite me: then like Hedgehogs, which Lie tumbling in my barefoot way, and mount Their pricks at my foot-fall: sometime am I All wound with Adders, who with cloven tongues Do hisse me into madness: Lo, now Lo, Here comes a Spirit of his, and to torment me For bringing wood in slowly: I'll fall flat, Perchance he will not mind me. Here's neither bush, nor shrub to bear off any weather at all: and another Storm brewing, I hear it sing i th' wind: yond same black cloud, yond huge one, looks like a foul bombard that would shed his liquor: if it should thunder, as it did before, I know not where to hide my head: yond same cloud cannot choose but fall by paile-fuls. What have we here, a man, or a fish? dead or alive? a fish, he smells like a fish: a very ancient and fishlike smell: a kind of, not of the newest poor-john: a strange fish: were I in England now (as once I was) and had but this fish painted; not a holiday-foole there but would give a piece of silver: there, would this Monster, make a man: any strange beast there, makes a man: when they will not give a do it to relieve a lame Beggar, they will lay out ten to see a dead Indian: Leg'd like a man; and his Fins like Arms: warm o' my troth: I do now let lose my opinion; hold it no longer; this is no fish, but an Islander, that hath lately suffered by a Thunderbolt: Alas, the storm is come again: my best way is to creep under his Gaberdine: there is no other shelter hereabout: Misery acquaints a man with strange bedfellows: I will here shroud till the dregges of the storm be past.
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)
Heard you this Gonzalo? Vpon mine honour, Sir, I heard a humming, (And that a ſtrange one too) which did awake me: I ſhak'd you Sir, and cride: as mine eyes opend, I ſaw their weapons drawne: there was a noyſe, That's verily: 'tis beſt we ſtand vpon our guard; Or that we quit this place: let's draw our weapons. Lead off this ground & let's make further ſearch For my poore ſonne. Heauens keepe him from theſe Beaſts: For he is ſure i' th Iſland. Lead away. Proſpero my Lord, ſhall know what I haue done. So (King) goe ſafely on to ſeeke thy Son. All the infections that the Sunne ſuckes vp From Bogs, Fens, Flats, on Proſper fall, and make him By ynch-meale a diſeaſe: his Spirits heare me, And yet I needes muſt curſe. But they'll nor pinch, Fright me with Vrchyn-ſhewes, pitch me i' th mire, Nor lead me like a fire-brand, in the darke Out of my way, vnleſſe he bid 'em; but For euery trifle, are they ſet vpon me, Sometime like Apes, that moe and chatter at me, And after bite me: then like Hedg-hogs, which Lye tumbling in my bare-foote way, and mount Their pricks at my foot-fall: ſometime am I All wound with Adders, who with clouen tongues Doe hiſſe me into madneſſe: Lo, now Lo, Here comes a Spirit of his, and to torment me For bringing wood in ſlowly: I'le fall flat, Perchance he will not minde me. Here's neither buſh, nor ſhrub to beare off any weather at all: and another Storme brewing, I heare it ſing i th' winde: yond ſame blacke cloud, yond huge one, lookes like a foule bumbard that would ſhed his licquor: if it ſhould thunder, as it did before, I know not where to hide my head: yond ſame cloud cannot chooſe but fall by paile-fuls. What haue we here, a man, or a fiſh? dead or aliue? a fiſh, hee ſmels like a fiſh: a very ancient and fiſh-like ſmell: a kinde of, not of the neweſt poore-Iohn: a ſtrange fiſh: were I in England now (as once I was) and had but this fiſh painted; not a holiday-foole there but would giue a peece of ſiluer: there, would this Monſter, make a man: any ſtrange beaſt there, makes a man: when they will not giue a do it to relieue a lame Begger, they will lay out ten to ſee a dead Indian: Leg'd like a man; and his Finnes like Armes: warme o' my troth: I doe now let looſe my opinion; hold it no longer; this is no fiſh, but an Iſlander, that hath lately ſuffered by a Thunderbolt: Alas, the ſtorme is come againe: my beſt way is to creepe vnder his Gaberdine: there is no other ſhelter hereabout: Miſery acquaints a man with ſtrange bedfellowes: I will here ſhrowd till the dregges of the ſtorme be paſt.