Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1601 [1601-1602] (Annals) comedy · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men unassigned nearest T48 Addressing a lady: love, desire and inti · 499 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T48: lady, love, heart, fair, eyes, la, lord, tears, fie, face.
If I do not usurp myself, I am. Most certain, if you are she, you do usurp yourself: for what is yours to bestow, is, not yours to reserve. But this is from my Commission: I will on with my speech in your praise, and then show you the heart of my message. Come to what is important in't: I forgive you the praise. Alas, I took great pains to study it, and 'tis Poetical. It is the more like to be feigned, I pray you keep it in. I heard you were saucy at my gates, & allowed your approach rather to wonder at you, then to hear you. If you be not mad, be gone: if you have reason, be brief: 'tis not that time of Moon with me, to make one in so skipping a dialogue. Will you hoist sail sir, here lies your way. No good swabber, I am to hull here a little longer. Some mollification for your Giant, sweet Lady; tell me your mind, I am a messenger. Sure you have some hideous matter to deliver, when the courtesy of it is so fearful. Speak your office. It alone concerns your ear: I bring no overture of war, no taxation of homage; I hold the Olyffe in my hand: my words are as full of peace, as matter. Yet you began rudely. What are you? What would you? The rudeness that hath appeared in me, have I learned from my entertainment. What I am, and what I would, are as secret as maidenhead: to your ears, Divinity; to any others, profanation. Give us the place alone, We will hear this divinity. Now sir, what is your text? Most sweet Lady. A comfortable doctrine, and much may be said of it. Where lies your Text? In Orsinoes' bosom. In his bosom? In what chapter of his bosom? To answer by the method in the first of his hart. O, I have read it: it is heresy. Have you no more to say? Good Madam, let me see your face. Have you any Commission from your Lord, to negotiate with my face: you are now out of your Text: but we will draw the Curtain, and show you the picture. Look you sir, such a one I was this present: Is't not well done? Excellently done, if God did all. 'Tis in grain sir, 'twill endure wind and weather. 'tis beauty truly blended, whose red and white, Natures own sweet, and cunning hand laid on: Lady, you are the cruelest she alive, If you will lead these graces to the grave, And leave the world no copy. O sir, I will not be so hardhearted: I will give out diverse schedules of my beauty. It shallbe Inuentoried and every particle and utensile labeled to my will: As, Item two lips indifferent red, Item two grey eyes, with lids to them: Item, one neck, one chin, & so forth. Were you sent hither to praise me?
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)
If I do not vſurpe my ſelfe, I am. Moſt certaine, if you are ſhe, you do vſurp your ſelfe: for what is yours to beſtowe, is, not yours to reſerue. But this is from my Commiſſion: I will on with my ſpeech in your praiſe, and then ſhew you the heart of my meſſage. Come to what is important in't: I forgiue you the praiſe. Alas, I tooke great paines to ſtudie it, and 'tis Poeticall. It is the more like to be feigned, I pray you keep it in. I heard you were ſawcy at my gates, & allowd your approach rather to wonder at you, then to heare you. If you be not mad, be gone: if you haue reaſon, be breefe: 'tis not that time of Moone with me, to make one in ſo skipping a dialogue. Will you hoyſt ſayle ſir, here lies your way. No good ſwabber, I am to hull here a little longer. Some mollification for your Giant, ſweete Ladie; tell me your minde, I am a meſſenger. Sure you haue ſome hiddeous matter to deliuer, when the curteſie of it is ſo fearefull. Speake your office. It alone concernes your eare: I bring no ouerture of warre, no taxation of homage; I hold the Olyffe in my hand: my words are as full of peace, as matter. Yet you began rudely. What are you? What would you? The rudeneſſe that hath appear'd in mee, haue I learn'd from my entertainment. What I am, and what I would, are as ſecret as maiden-head: to your eares, Diuinity; to any others, prophanation. Giue vs the place alone, We will heare this diuinitie. Now ſir, what is your text? Moſt ſweet Ladie. A comfortable doctrine, and much may bee ſaide of it. Where lies your Text? In Orſinoes boſome. In his boſome? In what chapter of his boſome? To anſwer by the method in the firſt of his hart. O, I haue read it: it is hereſie. Haue you no more to ſay? Good Madam, let me ſee your face. Haue you any Commiſsion from your Lord, to negotiate with my face: you are now out of your Text: but we will draw the Curtain, and ſhew you the picture. Looke you ſir, ſuch a one I was this preſent: Iſt not well done? Excellently done, if God did all. 'Tis in graine ſir, 'twill endure winde and weather. Tis beauty truly blent, whoſe red and white, Natures owne ſweet, and cunning hand laid on: Lady, you are the cruell'ſt ſhee aliue, If you will leade theſe graces to the graue, And leaue the world no copie. O ſir, I will not be ſo hard-hearted: I will giue out diuers ſcedules of my beautie. It ſhalbe Inuentoried and euery particle and vtenſile labell'd to my will: As, Item two lippes indifferent redde, Item two grey eyes, with lids to them: Item, one necke, one chin, & ſo forth. Were you ſent hither to praiſe me?