Renaissance Drama — Topics · seed 42

The Comedy of Errors · chunk 8 of 29

Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1592 [c.1590-1593] (Annals)
comedy · Pembroke's Men (?)
unassigned nearest T35 Fools, wit and railing · 488 words

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Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T35: fool, wit, aristippus, achilles, wise, fools, patroclus, thersites, master, men.

Because it is a blessing that he bestows on beasts, and what he hath scanted them in hair, he hath given them in wit. Why, but there's many a man hath more hair then wit. Not a man of those but he hath the wit to lose his hair. Why thou didst conclude hairy men plain dealers without wit. The plainer dealer, the sooner lost; yet he looseth it in a kind of jollity. For what reason. For two, and sound ones to. Nay not sound I pray you. Sure ones then. Nay, not sure in a thing falsing. Certain ones then. Name them. The one to save the money that he spends in trying: the other, that at dinner they should not drop in his porridge. You would all this time have proved, here is no time for all things. Marry and did sir: namely, in no time to recover hair lost by Nature. But your reason was not substantial, why there is no time to recover. Thus I mend it: Time himself is bald, and therefore to the world's end, will have bald followers. I knew 'twould be a bald conclusion: but soft, who wafts us yonder. I, I. Antipholus, look strange and frown, Some other Mistress hath thy sweet aspects: I am not Adriana, nor thy wife. The time was once, when thou vn-vrged wouldst vow, That never words were music to thine ear, That never object pleasing in thine eye, That never touch well welcome to thy hand, That never meat sweet-fauoured in thy taste, Unless I spoke, or looked, or touched, or carved to thee. How comes it now, my Husband, oh how comes it, That thou art then estranged from thyself? Thyself I call it, being strange to me: That undividable Incorporate Am better than thy dear self's better part. Ah do not tear away thyself from me; For know my love: as easy mayst thou fall A drop of water in the breaking gulf, And take unmingled thence that drop again Without addition or diminishing, As take from me thyself, and not me too. How dearly would it touch thee to the quick, Shouldst thou but hear I were licentious? And that this body consecrate to thee, By Ruffian Lust should be contaminate? Wouldst thou not spit at me, and spurn at me, And hurl the name of husband in my face, And tear the stained skin of my Harlot brow, And from my false hand cut the wedding ring, And break it with a deepe-divorcing vow? I know thou canst, and therefore see thou do it. I am possessed with an adulterate blot, My blood is mingled with the crime of lust: For if we two be one, and thou play false, I do digest the poison of thy flesh, Being strumpeted by thy contagion. Keep then fair league and truce with thy true bed, I live distained, thou undishonoured.
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Details

Metadata, position in the edition, topic in the other seeds
PlayThe Comedy of Errors
AuthorShakespeare, William
Publication year (edition)1623
First performance / composition (Annals)1592 [c.1590-1593]
First performance (BritDrama)1592 [1589-1593]
Company (BritDrama)Pembroke's Men (?)
Genre (British Drama)comedy
Play typeAdult Professional;Professional
Edition / TCP / DEEPedition 866 · TCP A11954 · DEEP 5081.05
Edition roleRepresentative edition — used in the analysis
Positionnodes 431–485 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 8 of 29 in this edition
Length488 words · 646 tokens
Topic (seed 42)unassigned by HDBSCAN · nearest topic T35 — Fools, wit and railing at 0.786
Other seedsseed 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)
Becauſe it is a bleſſing that hee beſtowes on beaſts, and what he hath ſcanted them in haire, hee hath giuen them in wit. Why, but theres manie a man hath more haire then wit. Not a man of thoſe but he hath the wit to loſe his haire. Why thou didſt conclude hairy men plain dealers without wit. The plainer dealer, the ſooner loſt; yet he looſeth it in a kinde of iollitie. For what reaſon. For two, and ſound ones to. Nay not ſound I pray you. Sure ones then. Nay, not ſure in a thing falſing. Certaine ones then. Name them. The one to ſaue the money that he ſpends in trying: the other, that at dinner they ſhould not drop in his porrage. You would all this time haue prou'd, here is no time for all things. Marry and did ſir: namely, in no time to recouer haire loſt by Nature. But your reaſon was not ſubſtantiall, why there is no time to recouer. Thus I mend it: Time himſelfe is bald, and therefore to the worlds end, will haue bald followers. I knew 'twould be a bald concluſion: but ſoft, who wafts vs yonder. I, I. Antipholus, looke ſtrange and frowne, Some other Miſtreſſe hath thy ſweet aſpects: I am not Adriana, nor thy wife. The time was once, when thou vn-vrg'd wouldſt vow, That neuer words were muſicke to thine eare, That neuer obiect pleaſing in thine eye, That neuer touch well welcome to thy hand, That neuer meat ſweet-fauour'd in thy taſte, Vnleſſe I ſpake, or look'd, or touch'd, or caru'd to thee. How comes it now, my Husband, oh how comes it, That thou art then eſtranged from thy ſelfe? Thy ſelfe I call it, being ſtrange to me: That vndiuidable Incorporate Am better then thy deere ſelfes better part. Ah doe not teare away thy ſelfe from me; For know my loue: as eaſie maiſt thou fall A drop of water in the breaking gulfe, And take vnmingled thence that drop againe Without addition or diminiſhing, As take from me thy ſelfe, and not me too. How deerely would it touch thee to the quicke, Shouldſt thou but heare I were licencious? And that this body conſecrate to thee, By Ruffian Luſt ſhould be contaminate? Wouldſt thou not ſpit at me, and ſpurne at me, And hurle the name of husband in my face, And teare the ſtain'd skin of my Harlot brow, And from my falſe hand cut the wedding ring, And breake it with a deepe-diuorcing vow? I know thou canſt, and therefore ſee thou doe it. I am poſſeſt with an adulterate blot, My bloud is mingled with the crime of luſt: For if we two be one, and thou play falſe, I doe digeſt the poiſon of thy fleſh, Being ſtrumpeted by thy contagion▪ Keepe then faire league and truce with thy true bed, I liue diſtain'd, thou vndiſhonoured.