Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1593 [c.1593-1594] (Annals) comedy · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men (?) unassigned nearest T11 Siblings, kin and confidants · 469 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T11: sister, brother, love, friend, heart, father, mother, woman, lord, hear.
Nay, 'twill be this hour ere I have done weeping: all the kind of the lances, have this very fault: I have received my proportion, like the prodigious Son, and am going with Sir Protheus to the imperials Court: I think Crab my dog, be the sourest natured dog that lives: My Mother weeping: my Father wailing: my Sister crying: our Maid howling: our Cat wring her hands, and all our house in a great perplexity, yet did not this cruel-hearted Cur shed one tear: he is a stone, a very pebble stone, and has no more pity in him then a dog: a Iew would have wept to have seen our parting: why my Grandam having no eyes, look you, wept herself blind at my parting: nay, I'll show you the manner of it. This shoe is my father: no, this left shoe is my father; no, no, this left shoe is my mother: nay, that cannot be so neither: yes; it is so, it is so: it hath the worse sole: this shoe with the hole in it, is my mother: and this my father: a vengeance on't, there 'tis: Now sir, this staff is my sister: for, look you, she is as white as a lily, and as small as a wand: this hat is Nan our maid: I am the dog: no, the dog is himself, and I am the dog: oh, the dog is me, and I am myself: I; so, so: now come I to my Father; Father, your blessing: now should not the shoe speak a word for weeping: now should I kiss my Father; well, he weeps on: Now come I to my Mother: Oh that she could speak now, like a would-woman: well, I kiss her: why there 'tis; here's my mother's breath up and down: Now come I to my sister; mark the moan she makes: now the dog all this while sheds not a tear: nor speaks a word: but see how I lay the dust with my tears. Lance, away, away: a Board: thy Master is shipped, and thou art to post after with oars; what's the matter? why weep'st thou man? away ass, you'll lose the Tide, if you tarry any longer. It is no matter if the tide were lost, for it is the unkindest Tide, that ever any man tide. What's the unkindest tide? Why, he that's tied here, Crab my dog. Tut, man: I mean thou'lt lose the flood, and in losing the flood, lose thy voyage, and in losing thy voyage, lose thy Master, and in losing thy Master, lose thy service, and in losing thy service:— why dost thou stop my mouth? For fear thou shouldst lose thy tongue. Where should I lose my tongue? In thy Tale. In thy Tail.
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: T30 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Nay, 'twill bee this howre ere I haue done weeping: all the kinde of the Launce, haue this very fault: I haue receiu'd my proportion, like the prodigious Sonne, and am going with Sir Protheus to the Imperialls Court: I thinke Crab my dog, be the ſowreſt natured dogge that liues: My Mother weeping: my Father wayling: my Siſter crying: our Maid howling: our Catte wringing her hands, and all our houſe in a great perplexitie, yet did not this cruell-hearted Curre ſhedde one teare: he is a ſtone, a very pibble ſtone, and has no more pitty in him then a dogge: a Iew would haue wept to haue ſeene our parting: why my Grandam hauing no eyes, looke you, wept her ſelfe blinde at my parting: nay, Ile ſhew you the manner of it. This ſhooe is my father: no, this left ſhooe is my father; no, no, this left ſhooe is my mother: nay, that cannot bee ſo neyther: yes; it is ſo, it is ſo: it hath the worſer ſole: this ſhooe with the hole in it, is my mother: and this my father: a veng'ance on't, there 'tis: Now ſir, this ſtaffe is my ſiſter: for, looke you, ſhe is as white as a lilly, and as ſmall as a wand: this hat is Nan our maid: I am the dogge: no, the dogge is himſelfe, and I am the dogge: oh, the dogge is me, and I am my ſelfe: I; ſo, ſo: now come I to my Father; Father, your bleſſing: now ſhould not the ſhooe ſpeake a word for weeping: now ſhould I kiſſe my Father; well, hee weepes on: Now come I to my Mother: Oh that ſhe could ſpeake now, like a would-woman: well, I kiſſe her: why there 'tis; heere's my mothers breath vp and downe: Now come I to my ſiſter; marke the moane ſhe makes: now the dogge all this while ſheds not a teare: nor ſpeakes a word: but ſee how I lay the duſt with my teares. Launce, away, away: a Boord: thy Maſter is ſhip'd, and thou art to poſt after with oares; what's the matter? why weep'ſt thou man? away aſſe, you'l looſe the Tide, if you tarry any longer. It is no matter if the tide were loſt, for it is the vnkindeſt Tide, that euer any man tide. What's the vnkindeſt tide? Why, he that's tide here, Crab my dog. Tut, man: I meane thou'lt looſe the flood, and in looſing the flood, looſe thy voyage, and in looſing thy voyage, looſe thy Maſter, and in looſing thy Maſter, looſe thy ſeruice, and in looſing thy ſeruice: — why doſt thou ſtop my mouth? For feare thou ſhouldſt looſe thy tongue. Where ſhould I looſe my tongue? In thy Tale. In thy Taile.