Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1591 [1590-1591] (Annals) history · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men T1 Death, grief and revenge typicality 0.79 · 499 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
All murders past, do stand excused in this: And this so sole, and so unmatcheable, Shall give a holiness, a purity, To the yet unbegotten sin of times; And prove a deadly bloodshed, but a jest, Exampled by this heinous spectacle. It is a damned, and a bloody work, The graceless action of a heavy hand, If that it be the work of any hand. If that it be the work of any hand? We had a kind of light, what would ensue: It is the shameful work of Hubert's hand, The practice, and the purpose of the king: From whose obedience I forbidden my soul, Kneeling before this ruin of sweet life, And breathing to his breathless Excellence The Incense of a Vow, a holy Vow: Never to taste the pleasures of the world, Never to be infected with delight, Nor conversant with Ease, and Idleness, Till I have set a glory to this hand, By giving it the worship of Revenge. Our souls religiously confirm thy words. Lords, I am hot with haste, in seeking you, Arthur doth live, the king hath sent for you. Oh he is bold, and blushes not at death, Avaunt thou hateful villain, get thee gone. I am no villain. Must I rob the Law? Your sword is bright sir, put it up again. Not till I sheathe it in a murderer's skin. Stand back Lord Salisbury, stand back I say. By heaven, I think my sword's as sharp as yours. I would not have you (Lord) forget yourself, Nor tempt the danger of my true defence; Lest I, by marking of your rage, forget your Worth, your Greatness, and Nobility. Out dunghill: darest thou brave a Nobleman? Not for my life: But yet I dare defend My innocent life against an Emperor. Thou art a Murderer. Do not prove me so: Yet I am none. Whose tongue so ere speaks false, Not truly speaks: who speaks not truly, Lies. Cut him to pieces. Keep the peace, I say. Stand by, or I shall gall you Faulconbridge. Thou were't better gall the devil Salisbury. If thou but frown on me, or stir thy foot, Or teach thy hasty spleen to do me shame, I'll strike thee dead. Put up thy sword betime, Or I'll so maul you, and your tosting-Iron, That you shall think the devil is come from hell. What wilt thou do, renowned Faulconbridge? Second a Villain, and a Murderer? Lord Bigot, I am none. Who killed this Prince? 'Tis not an hour since I left him well: I honoured him, I loved him, and will weep My date of life out, for his sweet life's loss. Trust not those cunning waters of his eyes, For villainy is not without such rheum, And he, long traded in it, makes it seem Like Rivers of remorse and innocency. Away with me, all you whose souls abhor Th' uncleanly savours of a Slaughter-house, For I am stifled with this smell of sin.
nodes 1984–2049 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 32 of 41 in this edition
Length
499 words · 675 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T1 — Death, grief and revengecross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.794 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
seed 43: T7 · seed 44: T1 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
All murthers paſt, do ſtand excus'd in this: And this ſo ſole, and ſo vnmatcheable, Shall giue a holineſſe, a puritie, To the yet vnbegotten ſinne of times; And proue a deadly blood-ſhed, but a ieſt, Exampled by this heynous ſpectacle. It is a damned, and a bloody worke, The graceleſſe action of a heauy hand, If that it be the worke of any hand. If that it be the worke of any hand? We had a kinde of light, what would enſue: It is the ſhamefull worke of Huberts hand, The practice, and the purpoſe of the king: From whoſe obedience I forbid my ſoule, Kneeling before this ruine of ſweete life, And breathing to his breathleſſe Excellence The Incenſe of a Vow, a holy Vow: Neuer to taſte the pleaſures of the world, Neuer to be infected with delight, Nor conuerſant with Eaſe, and Idleneſſe, Till I haue ſet a glory to this hand, By giuing it the worſhip of Reuenge. Our ſoules religiouſly confirme thy words. Lords, I am hot with haſte, in ſeeking you, Arthur doth liue, the king hath ſent for you. Oh he is bold, and bluſhes not at death, Auant thou hatefull villain, get thee gone. I am no villaine. Muſt I rob the Law? Your ſword is bright ſir, put it vp againe. Not till I ſheath it in a murtherers skin. Stand backe Lord Salsbury, ſtand backe I ſay. By heauen, I thinke my ſword's as ſharpe as yours. I would not haue you (Lord) forget your ſelfe, Nor tempt the danger of my true defence; Leaſt I, by marking of your rage, forget your Worth, your Greatneſſe, and Nobility. Out dunghill: dar'ſt thou braue a Nobleman? Not for my life: But yet I dare defend My innocent life againſt an Emperor. Thou art a Murtherer. Do not proue me ſo: Yet I am none. Whoſe tongue ſo ere ſpeakes falſe, Not truely ſpeakes: who ſpeakes not truly, Lies. Cut him to peeces. Keepe the peace, I ſay. Stand by, or I ſhall gaul you Faulconbridge. Thou wer't better gaul the diuell Salsbury. If thou but frowne on me, or ſtirre thy foote, Or teach thy haſtie ſpleene to do me ſhame, Ile ſtrike thee dead. Put vp thy ſword betime, Or Ile ſo maule you, and your toſting-Iron, That you ſhall thinke the diuell is come from hell. What wilt thou do, renowned Faulconbridge? Second a Villaine, and a Murtherer? Lord Bigot, I am none. Who kill'd this Prince? 'Tis not an houre ſince I left him well: I honour'd him, I lou'd him, and will weepe My date of life out, for his ſweete liues loſſe. Truſt not thoſe cunning waters of his eyes, For villanie is not without ſuch rheume, And he, long traded in it, makes it ſeeme Like Riuers of remorſe and innocencie. Away with me, all you whoſe ſoules abhorre Th' vncleanly ſauours of a Slaughter-houſe, For I am ſtifled with this ſmell of ſinne.