Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1593 [c.1593-1594] (Annals) comedy · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men (?) T1 Death, grief and revenge typicality 0.73 · 468 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
And why not death, rather than living torment? To die, is to be banished from myself, And Silvia is myself: banished from her Is self from self. A deadly banishment: What light, is light, if Silvia be not seen? What joy is joy, if Silvia be not by? Unless it be to think that she is by And feed upon the shadow of perfection. Except I be by Silvia in the night, There is no music in the Nightingale. Unless I look on Silvia in the day, There is no day for me to look upon. She is my essence, and I leave to be; If I be not by her fair influence Fostered, illumined, cherished, kept alive. I fly not death, to fly his deadly doom, Tarry I here, I but attend on death, But fly I hence, I fly away from life. Run (boy) run, run, and seek him out. So-hough, Soa hough— What seest thou? Him we go to find, There's not a hair on's head, but 'tis a Valentine. Valentine? No. Who then? his Spirit? Neither, What then? Nothing. Can nothing speak? Master, shall I strike? Who wouldst thou strike? Nothing. Villain, forbear. Why Sir, I'll strike nothing: I pray you. Sirrah, I say forbear: friend Valentine, a word. My ears are stopped, & cannot hear good news, So much of bad already hath possessed them. Then in dumb silence will I bury mine, For they are harsh, untuneable, and bad. Is Silvia dead? No, Valentine. No Valentine indeed, for sacred Silvia, Hath she forsworn me? No, Valentine. No Valentine, if Silvia have forsworn me. What is your news? Sir, there is a proclamation, that you are vanished. That thou art banished: oh that's the news, From hence, from Silvia, and from me thy friend. Oh, I have fed upon this woe already, And now excess of it will make me surfeit. Doth Silvia know that I am banished? I, I: and she hath offered to the doom (Which un-reverst stands in effectual force) A Sea of melting pearl, which some call tears; Those at her father's churlish feet she tendered, With them upon her knees, her humble self, Wring her hands, whose whiteness so became them, As if but now they waxed pale for woe: But neither bended knees, pure hands held up, Sad sighs, deep groans, nor siluer-shedding tears Can penetrate her uncompassionate Sire; But Valentine, if he be ta'en, must die. Besides, her intercession chafed him so, When she for thy repeal was suppliant, That to close prison he commanded her, With many bitter threats of biding there. No more: unless the next word that thou speakest Have some malignant power upon my life: If so: I pray thee breathe it in mine ear, As ending Anthem of my endless dolour.
nodes 1086–1156 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 20 of 34 in this edition
Length
468 words · 666 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T1 — Death, grief and revengecross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.726 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
seed 43: T10 · seed 44: T1 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
And why not death, rather then liuing torment? To die, is to be baniſht from my ſelfe, And Siluia is my ſelfe: baniſh'd from her Is ſelfe from ſelfe. A deadly baniſhment: What light, is light, if Siluia be not ſeene? What ioy is ioy, if Siluia be not by? Vnleſſe it be to thinke that ſhe is by And feed vpon the ſhadow of perfection. Except I be by Siluia in the night, There is no muſicke in the Nightingale. Vnleſſe I looke on Siluia in the day, There is no day for me to looke vpon. Shee is my eſſence, and I leaue to be; If I be not by her faire influence Foſter'd, illumin'd, cheriſh'd, kept aliue. I flie not death, to flie his deadly doome, Tarry I heere, I but attend on death, But flie I hence, I flie away from life. Run (boy) run, run, and ſeeke him out. So-hough, Soa hough — What ſeeſt thou? Him we goe to finde, There's not a haire on's head, but t'is a Valentine. Valentine? No. Who then? his Spirit? Neither, What then? Nothing. Can nothing ſpeake? Maſter, ſhall I ſtrike? Who wouldſt thou ſtrike? Nothing. Villaine, forbeare. Why Sir, Ile ſtrike nothing: I pray you. Sirha, I ſay forbeare: friend Valentine, a word. My eares are ſtopt, & cannot hear good newes, So much of bad already hath poſſeſt them. Then in dumbe ſilence will I bury mine, For they are harſh, vn-tuneable, and bad. Is Siluia dead? No, Valentine. No Valentine indeed, for ſacred Siluia, Hath ſhe forſworne me? No, Ʋalentine. No Valentine, if Siluia haue forſworne me. What is your newes? Sir, there is a proclamation, yt you are vaniſhed. That thou art baniſh'd: oh that's the newes, From hence, from Siluia, and from me thy friend. Oh, I haue fed vpon this woe already, And now exceſſe of it will make me ſurfet. Doth Siluia know that I am baniſh'd? I, I: and ſhe hath offered to the doome (Which vn-reuerſt ſtands in effectuall force) A Sea of melting pearle, which ſome call teares; Thoſe at her fathers churliſh feete ſhe tenderd, With them vpon her knees, her humble ſelfe, Wringing her hands, whoſe whitenes ſo became them, As if but now they waxed pale for woe: But neither bended knees, pure hands held vp, Sad ſighes, deepe grones, nor ſiluer-ſhedding teares Could penetrate her vncompaſſionate Sire; But Valentine, if he be tane, muſt die. Beſides, her interceſſion chaf'd him ſo, When ſhe for thy repeale was ſuppliant, That to cloſe priſon he commanded her, With many bitter threats of biding there. No more: vnles the next word that thou ſpeak'ſt Haue ſome malignant power vpon my life: If ſo: I pray thee breath it in mine eare, As ending Antheme of my endleſſe dolor.