Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1610 [c.1610-1611] (Annals) romance · King's Men unassigned nearest T35 Fools, wit and railing · 485 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T35: fool, wit, aristippus, achilles, wise, fools, patroclus, thersites, master, men.
I' faith: Why that's my Bawcock: what? hast smutched thy Nose? They say it is a Copy out of mine. Come Captain, We must be neat; not neat, but cleanly, Captain: And yet the Steere, the Heycfer, and the Calf, Are all called Neat. Still Virginalling Upon his Palm? How now (you wanton Calf) Art thou my Calf? Yes, if you will (my Lord.) Thou want'st a rough pash, & the shoots that I have To be full, like me: yet they say we are Almost as like as Eggs; Women say so, (That will say any thing.) But were they false As o're-dyed Blacks, as Wind, as Waters; false As Dice are to be wished, by one that fixes No borne 'twixt his and mine; yet were it true, To say this Boy were like me. Come (Sir Page) Look on me with your Welkin eye: sweet Villain, Most dearest, my Collop: Can thy Dam, may't be Affection? thy Intention stabs the Centre. Thou dost make possible things not so held, Communicat'st with Dreams (how can this be?) With what's unreall: thou coactive art, And fellowest nothing. Then 'tis very credent, Thou may'st co-ioyne with something, and thou dost, (And that beyond Commission) and I find it, (And that to the infection of my Brains, And hardening of my Brows.) What means Sicilia? He something seems unsettled. How? my Lord? What cheer? how is't with you, best Brother? You look as if you held a Brow of much distraction: Are you moved (my Lord?) No, in good earnest. How sometimes Nature will betray its folly? It's tenderness? and make itself a Pastime To harder bosoms? Looking on the Lynes Of my Boy's face, me thoughts I did requoyle Twenty three years, and saw myself vn-breeched, In my green Velvet Coat; my Dagger muzzl'd, Lest it should bite its Master, and so prove (As Ornaments oft does) too dangerous: How like (me thought) I then was to this Kernel, This Squash, this Gentleman. Mine honest Friend, Will you take Eggs for Money? No (my Lord) I'll fight. You will: why happy man be's dole. My Brother Are you so fond of your young Prince, as we Do seem to be of ours? If at home (Sir) He's all my Exercise, my Mirth, my Matter; Now my sworn Friend, and then mine Enemy; My Parasite my Soldier: Statesman; all: He makes a Iulyes day, short as December, And with his varying child-nesse, cures in me Thoughts, that would thick my blood. So stands this Squire Officed with me: We two will walk (my Lord) And leave you to your graver steps. Hermione, How thou lov'st us, show in our Brother's welcome; Let what is dear in Sicily, be cheap: Next to thyself, and my young Rover, he's Apparent to my heart. If you would seek us, We are yours i' th' Garden: shall's attend you there?
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)
I' fecks: Why that's my Bawcock: what? has't ſmutch'd thy Noſe? They ſay it is a Coppy out of mine. Come Captaine, We muſt be neat; not neat, but cleanly, Captaine: And yet the Steere, the Heycfer, and the Calfe, Are all call'd Neat. Still Virginalling Vpon his Palme? How now (you wanton Calfe) Art thou my Calfe? Yes, if you will (my Lord.) Thou want'ſt a rough paſh, & the ſhoots that I haue To be full, like me: yet they ſay we are Almoſt as like as Egges; Women ſay ſo, (That will ſay any thing.) But were they falſe As o're-dy'd Blacks, as Wind, as Waters; falſe As Dice are to be wiſh'd, by one that fixes No borne 'twixt his and mine; yet were it true, To ſay this Boy were like me. Come (Sir Page) Looke on me with your Welkin eye: ſweet Villaine, Moſt dear'ſt, my Collop: Can thy Dam, may't be Affection? thy Intention ſtabs the Center. Thou do'ſt make poſſible things not ſo held, Communicat'ſt with Dreames (how can this be?) With what's vnreall: thou coactiue art, And fellow'ſt nothing. Then 'tis very credent, Thou may'ſt co-ioyne with ſomething, and thou do'ſt, (And that beyond Commiſſion) and I find it, (And that to the infection of my Braines, And hardning of my Browes.) What meanes Sicilia? He ſomething ſeemes vnſetled. How? my Lord? What cheere? how is't with you, beſt Brother? You look as if you held a Brow of much diſtraction: Are you mou'd (my Lord?) No, in good earneſt. How ſometimes Nature will betray it's folly? It's tenderneſſe? and make it ſelfe a Paſtime To harder boſomes? Looking on the Lynes Of my Boyes face, me thoughts I did requoyle Twentie three yeeres, and ſaw my ſelfe vn-breech'd, In my greene Veluet Coat; my Dagger muzzeld, Leaſt it ſhould bite it's Maſter, and ſo proue (As Ornaments oft do's) too dangerous: How like (me thought) I then was to this Kernell, This Squaſh, this Gentleman. Mine honeſt Friend, Will you take Egges for Money? No (my Lord) Ile fight. You will: why happy man be's dole. My Brother Are you ſo fond of your young Prince, as we Doe ſeeme to be of ours? If at home (Sir) He's all my Exerciſe, my Mirth, my Matter; Now my ſworne Friend, and then mine Enemy; My Paraſite my Souldier: Stateſ-man; all: He makes a Iulyes day, ſhort as December, And with his varying child-neſſe, cures in me Thoughts, that would thick my blood. So ſtands this Squire Offic'd with me: We two will walke (my Lord) And leaue you to your grauer ſteps. Hermione, How thou lou'ſt vs, ſhew in our Brothers welcome; Let what is deare in Sicily, be cheape: Next to thy ſelfe, and my young Rouer, he's Apparant to my heart. If you would ſeeke vs, We are yours i' th' Garden: ſhall's attend you there?