Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1592 [c.1590-1593] (Annals) comedy · Pembroke's Men (?) T0 Court life: dukes, favour and honour typicality 0.77 · 480 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T0: duke, lord, duchess, love, court, madam, prince, honour, grace, lady.
justice most sacred Duke against the Abbess. She is a virtuous and a reverend Lady, It cannot be that she hath done thee wrong. May it please your Grace, Antipholus my husband, Who I made Lord of me, and all I had, At your important Letters this ill day, A most outrageous fit of madness took him: That desperately he hurried through the street, With him his bondman, all as mad as he, Doing displeasure to the Citizens, By rushing in their houses: bearing thence Rings, jewels, any thing his rage did like. Once did I get him bound, and sent him home, Whilst to take order for the wrongs I went, That here and there his fury had committed, Anon I wots not, by what strong escape He broke from those that had the guard of him, And with his mad attendant and himself, Each one with ireful passion, with drawn swords Met us again, and madly bend on us Chased us away: till raising of more aid We came again to bind them: then they fled Into this Abbey, whether we pursued them, And here the Abbess shuts the gates on us, And will not suffer us to fetch him out, Nor send him forth, that we may bear him hence. Therefore most gracious Duke with thy command, Let him be brought forth, and borne hence for help. Long since thy husband served me in my wars And I to thee engaged a Prince's word, When thou didst make him Master of thy bed, To do him all the grace and good I could. Go some of you, knock at the Abbey gate, And bid the Lady Abbess come to me: I will determine this before I stir. Oh Mistress, Mistress, shift and save yourself, My Master and his man are both broke lose, Beaten the Maids a-row, and bound the Doctor, Whose beard they have singed off with brands of fire, And ever as it blazed, they threw on him Great pails of puddled mire to quench the hair; My Mr preaches patience to him, and the while His man with Cizers nickes him like a fool: And sure (unless you send some present help) Between them they will kill the Conjurer. Peace fool, thy Master and his man are here, And that is false thou dost report to us. Mistress, upon my life I tell you true, I have not breathed almost since I did see it. He cries for you, and vows if he can take you, To scorch your face, and to disfigure you: Hark, hark, I hear him Mistress: fly, be gone. Come stand by me, fear nothing: guard with Halberds. Ay me, it is my husband: witness you, That he is borne about invisible, Even now we housed him in the Abbey here. And now he's there, past thought of humane reason.
seed 43: T0 · seed 44: T0 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Iuſtice moſt ſacred Duke againſt the Abbeſſe. She is a vertuous and a reuerend Lady, It cannot be that ſhe hath done thee wrong. May it pleaſe your Grace, Antipholus my husbād, Who I made Lord of me, and all I had, At your important Letters this ill day, A moſt outragious fit of madneſſe tooke him: That deſp'rately he hurried through the ſtreete, With him his bondman, all as mad as he, Doing diſpleaſure to the Citizens, By ruſhing in their houſes: bearing thence Rings, Iewels, any thing his rage did like. Once did I get him bound, and ſent him home, Whil'ſt to take order for the wrongs I went, That heere and there his furie had committed, Anon I wot not, by what ſtrong eſcape He broke from thoſe that had the guard of him, And with his mad attendant and himſelfe, Each one with irefull paſſion, with drawne ſwords Met vs againe, and madly bent on vs Chac'd vs away: till raiſing of more aide We came againe to binde them: then they fled Into this Abbey, whether we purſu'd them, And heere the Abbeſſe ſhuts the gates on vs, And will not ſuffer vs to fetch him out, Nor ſend him forth, that we may beare him hence. Therefore moſt gracious Duke with thy command, Let him be brought forth, and borne hence for helpe. Long ſince thy husband ſeru'd me in my wars And I to thee ingag'd a Princes word, When thou didſt make him Maſter of thy bed, To do him all the grace and good I could. Go ſome of you, knocke at the Abbey gate, And bid the Lady Abbeſſe come to me: I will determine this before I ſtirre. Oh Miſtris, Miſtris, ſhift and ſaue your ſelfe, My Maſter and his man are both broke looſe, Beaten the Maids a-row, and bound the Doctor, Whoſe beard they haue ſindg'd off with brands of fire, And euer as it blaz'd, they threw on him Great pailes of puddled myre to quench the haire; My Mr preaches patience to him, and the while His man with Cizers nickes him like a foole: And ſure (vnleſſe you ſend ſome preſent helpe) Betweene them they will kill the Coniurer. Peace foole, thy Maſter and his man are here, And that is falſe thou doſt report to vs. Miſtris, vpon my life I tel you true, I haue not breath'd almoſt ſince I did ſee it. He cries for you, and vowes if he can take you, To ſcorch your face, and to disfigure you: Harke, harke, I heare him Miſtris: flie, be gone. Come ſtand by me, feare nothing: guard with Halberds. Ay me, it is my husband: witneſſe you, That he is borne about inuiſible, Euen now we hous'd him in the Abbey heere. And now he's there, paſt thought of humane reaſon.