Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1593 [c.1593-1594] (Annals) comedy · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men (?) unassigned nearest T12 Olympian gods: Jupiter, Juno, Venus and · 485 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T12: iupiter, saturn, iuno, venus, gods, mars, earth, titan, love, fair.
She makes it strange, but she would be best pleased To be so angered with another Letter. Nay, would I were so angered with the same: Oh hateful hands, to tear such loving words; Injurious Wasps, to feed on such sweet honey, And kill the Bees that yield it, with your stings; I'll kiss each several paper, for amends: Look, here is writ, kind Iulia: unkind Iulia, As in revenge of thy ingratitude, I throw thy name against the bruzing-stones, Trampling contemptuously on thy disdain. And here is writ, Love wounded Protheus. Poor wounded name: my bosom, as a bed, Shall lodge thee till thy wound be throughly healed; And thus I search it with a sovereign kiss. But twice, or thrice, was Protheus written down: Be calm (good wind) blow not a word away, Till I have found each letter, in the Letter, Except mine own name: That, some whirlwind bear Unto a ragged, fearful, hanging Rock, And throw it thence into the raging Sea. Lo, here in one line is his name twice writ: Poor forlorn Protheus, passionate Protheus: To the sweet Iulia: that i'll tear away: And yet I will not, sith so prettily He couples it, to his complaining Names; Thus will I fold them, one upon another; Now kiss, embrace, contend, do what you will. Madam: dinner is ready: and your father stays. Well, let us go. What, shall these papers lie, like Tell-tales here? If you respect them; best to take them up. Nay, I was taken up, for laying them down. Yet here they shall not lie, for catching cold. I see you have a month's mind to them. I (Madam) you may say what sights you see; I see things too, although you judge I wink. Come, come, wilt please you go. Tell me Panthino, what sad talk was that, Wherewith my brother held you in the Cloister? 'Twas of his Nephew Protheus, your Son. Why? what of him? He wondered that your Lordship Would suffer him, to spend his youth at home, While other men, of slender reputation Put forth their Sons, to seek preferment out. Some to the wars, to try their fortune there; Some, to discover Islands far away: Some, to the studious Universities; For any, or for all these exercises, He said, that Protheus, your son, was meet; And did request me, to importune you To let him spend his time no more at home; Which would be great impeachment to his age, In having known no travail in his youth. Nor needest thou much importune me to that Whereon, this month I have been hamering. I have considered well, his loss of time, And how he cannot be a perfect man, Not being tried, and tutored in the world: Experience is by industry achieved, And perfected by the swift course of time: Then tell me, whether were I best to send him?
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)
She makes it ſtrāge, but ſhe would be beſt pleas'd To be ſo angred with another Letter. Nay, would I were ſo angred with the ſame: Oh hatefull hands, to teare ſuch louing words; Iniurious Waſpes, to feede on ſuch ſweet hony, And kill the Bees that yeelde it, with your ſtings; Ile kiſſe each ſeuerall paper, for amends: Looke, here is writ, kinde Iulia: vnkinde Iulia, As in reuenge of thy ingratitude, I throw thy name againſt the bruzing-ſtones, Trampling contemptuouſly on thy diſdaine. And here is writ, Loue wounded Protheus. Poore wounded name: my boſome, as a bed, Shall lodge thee till thy wound be throughly heal'd; And thus I ſearch it with a ſoueraigne kiſſe. But twice, or thrice, was Protheus written downe: Be calme (good winde) blow not a word away, Till I haue found each letter, in the Letter, Except mine own name: That, ſome whirle-winde beare Vnto a ragged, fearefull, hanging Rocke, And throw it thence into the raging Sea. Loe, here in one line is his name twice writ: Poore forlorne Protheus, paſſionate Protheus: To the ſweet Iulia: that ile teare away: And yet I will not, ſith ſo prettily He couples it, to his complaining Names; Thus will I fold them, one vpon another; Now kiſſe, embrace, contend, doe what you will. Madam: dinner is ready: and your father ſtaies. Well, let vs goe. What, ſhall theſe papers lye, like Tel-tales here? If you reſpect them; beſt to take them vp. Nay, I was taken vp, for laying them downe. Yet here they ſhall not lye, for catching cold. I ſee you haue a months minde to them. I (Madam) you may ſay what ſights you ſee; I ſee things too, although you iudge I winke. Come, come, wilt pleaſe you goe. Tell me Panthino, what ſad talke was that, Wherewith my brother held you in the Cloyſter? 'Twas of his Nephew Protheus, your Sonne. Why? what of him? He wondred that your Lordſhip Would ſuffer him, to ſpend his youth at home, While other men, of ſlender reputation Put forth their Sonnes, to ſeeke preferment out. Some to the warres, to try their fortune there; Some, to diſcouer Iſlands farre away: Some, to the ſtudious Vniuerſities; For any, or for all theſe exerciſes, He ſaid, that Protheus, your ſonne, was meet; And did requeſt me, to importune you To let him ſpend his time no more at home; Which would be great impeachment to his age, In hauing knowne no trauaile in his youth. Nor need'ſt thou much importune me to that Whereon, this month I haue bin hamering. I haue conſider'd well, his loſſe of time, And how he cannot be a perfect man, Not being tryed, and tutord in the world: Experience is by induſtry atchieu'd, And perfected by the ſwift courſe of time: Then tell me, whether were I beſt to ſend him?