Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1599 [1598-1599] (Annals) comedy · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men unassigned nearest T57 Ships, merchants and pirates · 505 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T57: ship, sea, master, sail, home, money, pisaro, life, ships, till.
No, hath not? Rosaline lacks then the love Which teacheth thee that thou and I am one, Shall we be sundered? shall we part sweet girl? No, let my Father seek another heir: Therefore devise with me how we may fly Whether to go, and what to bear with us, And do not seek to take your change upon you, To bear your griefs yourself, and leave me out: For by this heaven, now at our sorrows pale; Say what thou canst, I'll go along with thee. Why, whether shall we go? To seek my Uncle in the Forest of Arden. Alas, what danger will it be to us, (Maids as we are) to travel forth so far? Beauty provoketh thieves sooner than gold. I'll put myself in poor and mean attire, And with a kind of umber smirch my face, The like do you, so shall we pass along, And never stir assailants. Were it not better, Because that I am more than common tall, That I did suit me all points like a man, A gallant curtle-axe upon my thigh, A boar-spear in my hand, and in my heart Lie there what hidden woman's fear there will, we'll have a swashing and a marshal outside, As many other mannish cowards have, That do outface it with their semblances. What shall I call thee when thou art a man? I'll have no worse a name than Jove's own Page, And therefore look you call me Ganymede. But what will you by called? Something that hath a reference to my state: No longer Celia, but Aliena. But Cousin, what if we assayed to steal The clownish Fool out of your Father's Court: Would he not be a comfort to our travail? he'll go along o'er the wide world with me, Leave me alone to woe him; Let's away And get our jewels and our wealth together, Device the fittest time, and safest way To hide us from pursuit that will be made After my flight: now go in we content To liberty, and not to banishment. Now my Co-mates, and brothers in exile: Hath not old custom made this life more sweet Than that of painted pomp? Are not these woods More free from peril then the envious Court? here feel we not the penalty of Adam, The seasons difference, as the I Icie phange And churlish chiding of the winter's wind, Which when it bites and blows upon my body Even till I shrink with cold, I smile, and say This is no flattery: these are counsellors That feelingly persuade me what I am: Sweet are the uses of adversity Which like the toad, ugly and venomous, Wears yet a precious jewel in his head: And this our life exempt from public haunt, Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, Sermons in stones, and good in every thing. I would not change it, happy is your Grace That can translate the stubbornness of fortune Into so quiet and so sweet a stile.
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)
No, hath not? Roſaline lacks then the loue Which teacheth thee that thou and I am one, Shall we be ſundred? ſhall we part ſweete girle? No, let my Father ſeeke another heire: Therefore deuiſe with me how we may flie Whether to goe, and what to beare with vs, And doe not ſeeke to take your change vpon you, To beare your griefes your ſelfe, and leaue me out: For by this heauen, now at our ſorrowes pale; Say what thou canſt, Ile goe along with thee. Why, whether ſhall we goe? To ſeeke my Vncle in the Forreſt of Arden. Alas, what danger will it be to vs, (Maides as we are) to trauell forth ſo farre? Beautie prouoketh theeues ſooner then gold. Ile put my ſelfe in poore and meane attire, And with a kinde of vmber ſmirch my face, The like doe you, ſo ſhall we paſſe along, And neuer ſtir aſſailants. Were it not better, Becauſe that I am more then common tall, That I did ſuite me all points like a man, A gallant curtelax vpon my thigh, A bore-ſpeare in my hand, and in my heart Lye there what hidden womans feare there will, Weele haue a ſwaſhing and a marſhall outſide, As manie other manniſh cowards haue, That doe outface it with their ſemblances. What ſhall I call thee when thou art a man? Ile haue no worſe a name then Ioues owne Page, And therefore looke you call me Ganimed. But what will you by call'd? Something that hath a reference to my ſtate: No longer Celia, but Aliena. But Coſen, what if we aſſaid to ſteale The clowniſh Foole out of your Fathers Court: Would he not be a comfort to our trauaile? Heele goe along ore the wide world with me, Leaue me alone to woe him; Let's away And get our Iewels and our wealth together, Deuiſe the fitteſt time, and ſafeſt way To hide vs from purſuite that will be made After my flight: now goe in we content To libertie, and not to baniſhment. Now my Coe-mates, and brothers in exile: Hath not old cuſtome made this life more ſweete Then that of painted pompe? Are not theſe woods More free from perill then the enuious Court? Heere feele we not the penaltie of Adam, The ſeaſons difference, as the I cie phange And churliſh chiding of the winters winde, Which when it bites and blowes vpon my body Euen till I ſhrinke with cold, I ſmile, and ſay This is no flattery: theſe are counſellors That feelingly perſwade me what I am: Sweet are the vſes of aduerſitie Which like the toad, ougly and venemous, Weares yet a precious Iewell in his head: And this our life exempt from publike haunt, Findes tongues in trees, bookes in the running brookes, Sermons in ſtones, and good in euery thing. I would not change it, happy is your Grace That can tranſlate the ſtubbornneſſe of fortune Into ſo quiet and ſo ſweet a ſtile.