Renaissance Drama — Topics · seed 42

Twelfth Night, or What You Will · chunk 19 of 39

Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1601 [1601-1602] (Annals)
comedy · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men
unassigned nearest T35 Fools, wit and railing · 494 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.

Or o' mine either? Shall I play my freedom at tray-trip, and become thy bondslave? I'faith, or I either? Why, thou hast put him in such a dream, that when the image of it leaves him, he must run mad. Nay but say true, does it work upon him? Like Aqua vite with a Midwife. If you will then see the fruits of the sport, mark his first approach before my Lady: he will come to her in yellow stockings, and 'tis a colour she abhors, and cross gartered, a fashion she detests: and he will smile upon her, which will now be so unsuitable to her disposition, being addicted to a melancholy, as she is, that it cannot but turn him into a notable contempt: if you will see it follow me. To the gates of Tartar, thou most excellent devil of wit. I'll make one too. Save thee Friend and thy Music: dost thou live by thy Tabor? No sir, I live by the Church. Art thou a Churchman? No such matter sir, I do live by the Church: For, I do live at my house, and my house doth stand by the Church So thou mayst say the Kings lies by a beggar, if a beggar dwell near him: or the Church stands by thy Tabor, if thy Tabor stand by the Church. You have said sir: To see this age: A sentence is but a chevril glove to a good wit, how quickly the wrong side may be turned outward. Nay that's certain: they that dally nicely with words, may quickly make them wanton. I would therefore my sister had had no name Sir. Why man? Why sir, her names a word, and to dally with that word, might make my sister wanton: But indeed, words are very Rascals, since bonds disgraced them. Thy reason man? Troth sir, I can yield you none without words, and words are grown so false, I am loath to prove reason with them. I warrant thou art a merry fellow, and carest for nothing. Not so sir, I do care for something: but in my conscience sir, I do not care for you: if that be to care for nothing sir, I would it would make you invisible. Art not thou the Lady Oliuia's fool? No indeed sir, the Lady Olivia has no folly, she will keep no fool sir, till she be married, and fools are as like husbands, as Pilchers are to Herrings, the Husbands the bigger, I am indeed not her fool, but her corrupter of words. I saw thee late at the Count Orsino's. Foolery sir, does walk about the Orb like the Sun, it shines every where. I would be sorry sir, but the Fool should be as oft with your Master, as with my Mistress: I think I saw your wisdom there. Nay, and thou pass upon me, I'll no more with thee. Hold there's expenses for thee.
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Details

Metadata, position in the edition, topic in the other seeds
PlayTwelfth Night, or What You Will
AuthorShakespeare, William
Publication year (edition)1623
First performance / composition (Annals)1601 [1601-1602]
First performance (BritDrama)1601 [1600-1602]
Company (BritDrama)Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men
Genre (British Drama)comedy
Play typeAdult Professional;Professional
Edition / TCP / DEEPedition 872 · TCP A11954 · DEEP 5081.13
Edition roleRepresentative edition — used in the analysis
Positionnodes 730–757 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 19 of 39 in this edition
Length494 words · 640 tokens
Topic (seed 42)unassigned by HDBSCAN · nearest topic T35 — Fools, wit and railing at 0.829
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)
Or o' mine either? Shall I play my freedome at tray-trip, and becom thy bondſlaue? Ifaith, or I either? Why, thou haſt put him in ſuch a dreame, that when the image of it leaues him, he muſt run mad. Nay but ſay true, do's it worke vpon him? Like Aqua vite with a Midwife. If you will then ſee the fruites of the ſport, mark his firſt approach before my Lady: hee will come to her in yellow ſtockings, and 'tis a colour ſhe abhorres, and croſſe garter'd, a faſhion ſhee deteſts: and hee will ſmile vpon her, which will now be ſo vnſuteable to her diſpoſition, being addicted to a melancholly, as ſhee is, that it cannot but turn him into a notable contempt: if you wil ſee it follow me. To the gates of Tartar, thou moſt excellent diuell of wit. Ile make one too. Saue thee Friend and thy Muſick: doſt thou liue by thy Tabor? No ſir, I liue by the Church. Art thou a Churchman? No ſuch matter ſir, I do liue by the Church: For, I do liue at my houſe, and my houſe dooth ſtand by the Church So thou maiſt ſay the Kings lyes by a begger, if a begger dwell neer him: or the Church ſtands by thy Tabor, if thy Tabor ſtand by the Church. You haue ſaid ſir: To ſee this age: A ſentence is but a cheu'rill gloue to a good witte, how quickely the wrong ſide may be turn'd outward. Nay that's certaine: they that dally nicely with words, may quickely make them wanton. I would therefore my ſiſter had had no name Sir. Why man? Why ſir, her names a word, and to dallie with that word, might make my ſiſter wanton: But indeede, words are very Raſcals, ſince bonds diſgrac'd them. Thy reaſon man? Troth ſir, I can yeeld you none without wordes, and wordes are growne ſo falſe, I am loath to proue reaſon with them. I warrant thou art a merry fellow, and car'ſt for nothing. Not ſo ſir, I do care for ſomething: but in my conſcience ſir, I do not care for you: if that be to care for nothing ſir, I would it would make you inuiſible. Art not thou the Lady Oliuia's foole? No indeed ſir, the Lady Oliuia has no folly, ſhee will keepe no foole ſir, till ſhe be married, and fooles are as like husbands, as Pilchers are to Herrings, the Huſbands the bigger, I am indeede not her foole, but hir corrupter of words. I ſaw thee late at the Count Orſino's. Foolery ſir, does walke about the Orbe like the Sun, it ſhines euery where. I would be ſorry ſir, but the Foole ſhould be as oft with your Maſter, as with my Miſtris: I thinke I ſaw your wiſedome there. Nay, and thou paſſe vpon me, Ile no more with thee. Hold there's expences for thee.