Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1610 [c.1610-1611] (Annals) romance · King's Men unassigned nearest T11 Siblings, kin and confidants · 471 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T11: sister, brother, love, friend, heart, father, mother, woman, lord, hear.
Good my Lord, She came from Libya. Where the Warlike Smalus, That Noble honoured Lord, is feared, and loved? Most Royal Sir, From thence: from him, whose Daughter His Tears proclaimed his parting with her: thence (A prosperous Southwind friendly) we have crossed, To execute the Charge my Father gave me, For visiting your Highness: My best Train I have from your Sicilian Shores dismissed; Who for Bohemia bend, to signify Not only my success in Libya (Sir) But my arrival, and my Wives, in safety Here, where we are. The blessed Gods Purge all Infection from our Air, whilst you Do Climate here: you have a holy Father, A graceful Gentleman, against whose person (So sacred as it is) I have done sin, For which, the Heavens (taking angry note) Have left me Issueless: and your Father's blessed (As he from Heaven merits it) with you, Worthy his goodness. What might I have been, Might I a Son and Daughter now have looked on, Such goodly things as you? Most Noble Sir, That which I shall report, will bear no credit, Were not the proof so nigh. Please you (great Sir) Bohemia greets you from himself, by me: Desires you to attach his Son, who has (His Dignity, and Duty both cast off) Fled from his Father, from his Hopes, and with A Shepherd's Daughter. Where's Bohemia? speak: Here, in your City: I now came from him. I speak amazedly, and it becomes My marvel, and my Message. To your Court Whiles he was hastening (in the Chase, it seems, Of this fair Couple) meets he on the way The Father of this seeming Lady, and Her Brother, having both their Country quitted, With this young Prince. Camillo has betrayed me; Whose honour, and whose honesty till now, Endured all Wethers. Lay't so to his charge: He's with the King your Father. Who? Camillo? Camillo (Sir:) I spoke with him: who now Has these poor men in question. Never saw I Wretches so quake: they kneel, they kiss the Earth; Forswear themselves as often as they speak: Bohemia stops his ears, and threatens them With diverse deaths, in death. Oh my poor Father: The Heaven sets Spies upon us, will not have Our Contract celebrated. You are married? We are not (Sir) nor are we like to be: The Stars (I see) will kiss the Valleys first: The odds for high and lows alike. My Lord, Is this the Daughter of a King? She is, When once she is my Wife. That once (I see) by your good Father's speed, Will come-on very slowly. I am sorry (Most sorry) you have broken from his liking, Where you were tied in duty: and as sorry, Your Choice is not so rich in Worth, as Beauty, That you might well enjoy her.
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)
Good my Lord, She came from Libia. Where the Warlike Smalus, That Noble honor'd Lord, is fear'd, and lou'd? Moſt Royall Sir, From thence: from him, whoſe Daughter His Teares proclaym'd his parting with her: thence (A proſperous South-wind friendly) we haue croſs'd, To execute the Charge my Father gaue me, For viſiting your Highneſſe: My beſt Traine I haue from your Sicilian Shores diſmiſs'd; Who for Bohemia bend, to ſignifie Not onely my ſucceſſe in Libia (Sir) But my arriuall, and my Wifes, in ſafetie Here, where we are. The bleſſed Gods Purge all Infection from our Ayre, whileſt you Doe Clymate here: you haue a holy Father, A gracefull Gentleman, againſt whoſe perſon (So ſacred as it is) I haue done ſinne, For which, the Heauens (taking angry note) Haue left me Iſſue-leſſe: and your Father's bleſs'd (As he from Heauen merits it) with you, Worthy his goodneſſe. What might I haue been, Might I a Sonne and Daughter now haue look'd on, Such goodly things as you? Moſt Noble Sir, That which I ſhall report, will beare no credit, Were not the proofe ſo nigh. Pleaſe you (great Sir) Bohemia greets you from himſelfe, by me: Deſires you to attach his Sonne, who ha's (His Dignitie, and Dutie both caſt off) Fled from his Father, from his Hopes, and with A Shepheards Daughter. Where's Bohemia? ſpeake: Here, in your Citie: I now came from him. I ſpeake amazedly, and it becomes My meruaile, and my Meſſage. To your Court Whiles he was haſtning (in the Chaſe, it ſeemes, Of this faire Couple) meetes he on the way The Father of this ſeeming Lady, and Her Brother, hauing both their Countrey quitted, With this young Prince. Camillo ha's betray'd me; Whoſe honor, and whoſe honeſtie till now, Endur'd all Weathers. Lay't ſo to his charge: He's with the King your Father. Who? Camillo? Camillo (Sir:) I ſpake with him: who now Ha's theſe poore men in queſtion. Neuer ſaw I Wretches ſo quake: they kneele, they kiſſe the Earth; Forſweare themſelues as often as they ſpeake: Bohemia ſtops his eares, and threatens them With diuers deaths, in death. Oh my poore Father: The Heauen ſets Spyes vpon vs, will not haue Our Contract celebrated. You are marryed? We are not (Sir) nor are we like to be: The Starres (I ſee) will kiſſe the Valleyes firſt: The oddes for high and low's alike. My Lord, Is this the Daughter of a King? She is, When once ſhe is my Wife. That once (I ſee) by your good Fathers ſpeed, Will come-on very ſlowly. I am ſorry (Moſt ſorry) you haue broken from his liking, Where you were ty'd in dutie: and as ſorry, Your Choiſe is not ſo rich in Worth, as Beautie, That you might well enioy her.