Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1610 [c.1610-1611] (Annals) romance · King's Men unassigned nearest T38 Death, parting and grief at court · 471 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T38: queen, king, death, dead, heart, life, die, lord, royal, news.
The higher powers forbidden. I say she's dead: I'll swear't. If word, nor oath Prevail not, go and see: if you can bring Tincture, or lustre in her lip, her eye Heat outwardly, or breath within, I'll serve you As I would do the Gods. But, O thou Tyrant, Do not repent these things, for they are heavier Than all thy woes can stir: therefore betake thee To nothing but despair. A thousand knees, Ten thousand years together, naked, fasting, Upon a barren Mountain, and still Winter In storm perpetual, could not move the Gods To look that way thou were't. Go on, go on: Thou canst not speak too much, I have deserved All tongues to talk their bittrest. Say no more; How ere the business goes, you have made fault I ' th' boldness of your speech. I am sorry for't; All faults I make, when I shall come to know them, I do repent: Alas, I have showed too much The rashness of a woman: he is touched To th' Noble heart. What's gone, and what's past help Should be past grief: Do not receive affliction At my petition; I beseech you, rather Let me be punished, that have minded you Of what you should forget. Now (good my Liege) Sir, Royal Sir forgive a foolish woman: The love I bore your Queen (Lo, fool again) I'll speak of her no more, nor of your Children: I'll not remember you of my own Lord, (Who is lost too:) take your patience to you, And I'll say nothing. Thou didst speak but well, When most the truth: which I receive much better, Then to be pitied of thee. Prithee bring me To the dead bodies of my Queen, and Son, One grave shall be for both: Upon them shall The causes of their death appear (unto Our shame perpetual) once a day, I'll visit The Chapel where they lie, and tears shed there Shall be my recreation. So long as Nature Will bear up with this exercise, so long I daily vow to use it. Come, and lead me To these sorrows. Thou art perfect then, our ship hath touched upon The Deserts of Bohemia. I (my Lord) and fear We have Landed in ill time: the skies look grimly, And threaten present blusters. In my conscience The heavens with that we have in hand, are angry, And frown upon's. Their sacred will's be done: go get aboard, Look to thy bark, I'll not be long before I call upon thee. Make your best haste, and go not Toofarre i' th' Land: 'tis like to be loud weather, Besides this place is famous for the Creatures Of prey, that keep upon't. Go thou away, I'll follow instantly. I am glad at heart To be so rid o' th' business.
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)
The higher powres forbid. I ſay ſhe's dead: Ile ſwear't. If word, nor oath Preuaile not, go and ſee: if you can bring Tincture, or luſtre in her lip, her eye Heate outwardly, or breath within, Ile ſerue you As I would do the Gods. But, O thou Tyrant, Do not repent theſe things, for they are heauier Then all thy woes can ſtirre: therefore betake thee To nothing but diſpaire. A thouſand knees, Ten thouſand yeares together, naked, faſting, Vpon a barren Mountaine, and ſtill Winter In ſtorme perpetuall, could not moue the Gods To looke that way thou wer't. Go on, go on: Thou canſt not ſpeake too much, I haue deſeru'd All tongues to talke their bittreſt. Say no more; How ere the buſineſſe goes, you haue made fault I 'th boldneſſe of your ſpeech. I am ſorry for't; All faults I make, when I ſhall come to know them, I do repent: Alas, I haue ſhew'd too much The raſhneſſe of a woman: he is toucht To th' Noble heart. What's gone, and what's paſt helpe Should be paſt greefe: Do not receiue affliction At my petition; I beſeech you, rather Let me be puniſh'd, that haue minded you Of what you ſhould forget. Now (good my Liege) Sir, Royall Sir forgiue a fooliſh woman: The loue I bore your Queene (Lo, foole againe) Ile ſpeake of her no more, nor of your Children: Ile not remember you of my owne Lord, (Who is loſt too:) take your patience to you, And Ile ſay nothing. Thou didſt ſpeake but well, When moſt the truth: which I receyue much better, Then to be pittied of thee. Prethee bring me To the dead bodies of my Queene, and Sonne, One graue ſhall be for both: Vpon them ſhall The cauſes of their death appeare (vnto Our ſhame perpetuall) once a day, Ile viſit The Chappell where they lye, and teares ſhed there Shall be my recreation. So long as Nature Will beare vp with this exerciſe, ſo long I dayly vow to vſe it. Come, and leade me To theſe ſorrowes. Thou art perfect then, our ſhip hath toucht vpon The Deſarts of Bohemia. I (my Lord) and feare We haue Landed in ill time: the skies looke grimly, And threaten preſent bluſters. In my conſcience The heauens with that we haue in hand, are angry, And frowne vpon's. Their ſacred wil's be done: go get a-boord, Looke to thy barke, Ile not be long before I call vpon thee. Make your beſt haſte, and go not Too-farre i' th Land: 'tis like to be lowd weather, Beſides this place is famous for the Creatures Of prey, that keepe vpon't. Go thou away, Ile follow inſtantly. I am glad at heart To be ſo ridde o' th buſineſſe.