Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1608 (Annals) tragedy · King's Men unassigned nearest T1 Death, grief and revenge · 474 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
This but done, Even as she speaks, why their hearts were yours: For they have Pardons, being asked, as free, As words to little purpose. Prithee now, Go, and be ruled: although I know thou hadst rather Fellow thine Enemy in a fiery Gulf, Then flatter him in a Bower. Here is Cominius. I have been i' th' Market place: and Sir 'tis fit You make strong party, or defend yourself By calmness, or by absence: all's in anger. Only fair speech. I think 'twill serve, if he can thereto frame his spirit. He must, and will: Prithee now say you will, and go about it. Must I go show them my vnbarbed Sconce? Must I with my base Tongue give to my Noble Heart A Lie, that it must bear well? I will do't: Yet were there but this single Plot, to lose This Mould of Martius, they to dust should grind it, And throwed against the Wind. Toth' Market place: You have put me now to such a part, which never I shall discharge toth' Life. Come, come, we'll prompt you. I prithee now sweet Son, as thou hast said My praises made thee first a Soldier; so To have my praise for this, perform a part Thou hast not done before. Well, I must do't: Away my disposition, and possess me Some Harlot's spirit: My throat of War be turned, Which quired with my Drum into a Pipe, Small as an Eunuch, or the Virgin voice That Babies lull asleep: The smiles of knaves Tent in my cheeks, and Schoolboys Tears take up The Glasses of my sight: A Beggar's Tongue Make motion through my Lips, and my Armed knees Who bowed but in my Stirrup, bend like his That hath received an Alms. I will not do't, Left I surcease to honour mine own truth, And by my Body's action, teach my Mind A most inherent Baseness. At thy choice then: To beg of thee, it is my more dishonour, Then thou of them. Come all to ruin, let Thy Mother rather feel thy Pride, then fear Thy dangerous Stoutness: for I mock at death With as big heart as thou. Do as thou list, Thy Valiantness was mine, thou suckest it from me: But own thy Pride thyself. Pray be content: Mother, I am going to the Market place: Chide me no more. I'll Mountebank their Loves, Cog their Hearts from them, and come home beloved Of all the Trades in Rome. Look, I am going: Commend me to my Wife, I'll return Consul, Or never trust to what my Tongue can do I' th' way of Flattery further. Do your will. Away, the Tribunes do attend you: arm yourself To answer mildly: for they are prepared With Accusations, as I hear more strong Than are upon you yet.
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)
This but done, Euen as ſhe ſpeakes, why their hearts were yours: For they haue Pardons, being ask'd, as free, As words to little purpoſe. Prythee now, Goe, and be rul'd: although I know thou hadſt rather Follow thine Enemie in a fierie Gulfe, Then flatter him in a Bower. Here is Cominius. I haue beene i' th' Market place: and Sir 'tis fit You make ſtrong partie, or defend your ſelfe By calmeneſſe, or by abſence: all's in anger. Onely faire ſpeech. I thinke 'twill ſerue, if he can thereto frame his ſpirit. He muſt, and will: Prythee now ſay you will, and goe about it. Muſt I goe ſhew them my vnbarb'd Sconce? Muſt I with my baſe Tongue giue to my Noble Heart A Lye, that it muſt beare well? I will doo't: Yet were there but this ſingle Plot, to looſe This Mould of Martius, they to duſt ſhould grinde it, And throw't againſt the Winde. Toth' Market place: You haue put me now to ſuch a part, which neuer I ſhall diſcharge toth' Life. Come, come, wee'le prompt you. I prythee now ſweet Son, as thou haſt ſaid My praiſes made thee firſt a Souldier; ſo To haue my praiſe for this, performe a part Thou haſt not done before. Well, I muſt doo't: Away my diſpoſition, and poſſeſſe me Some Harlots ſpirit: My throat of Warre be turn'd, Which quier'd with my Drumme into a Pipe, Small as an Eunuch, or the Virgin voyce That Babies lull a-ſleepe: The ſmiles of Knaues Tent in my cheekes, and Schoole-boyes Teares take vp The Glaſſes of my ſight: A Beggars Tongue Make motion through my Lips, and my Arm'd knees Who bow'd but in my Stirrop, bend like his That hath receiu'd an Almes. I will not doo't, Leaft I ſurceaſe to honor mine owne truth, And by my Bodies action, teach my Minde A moſt inherent Baſeneſſe. At thy choice then: To begge of thee, it is my more diſ-honor, Then thou of them. Come all to ruine, let Thy Mother rather feele thy Pride, then feare Thy dangerous Stoutneſſe: for I mocke at death With as bigge heart as thou. Do as thou liſt, Thy Valiantneſſe was mine, thou ſuck'ſt it from me: But owe thy Pride thy ſelfe. Pray be content: Mother, I am going to the Market place: Chide me no more. Ile Mountebanke their Loues, Cogge their Hearts from them, and come home belou'd Of all the Trades in Rome. Looke, I am going: Commend me to my Wife, Ile returne Conſull, Or neuer truſt to what my Tongue can do I' th way of Flattery further. Do your will. Away, the Tribunes do attend you: arm your ſelf To anſwer mildely: for they are prepar'd With Accuſations, as I heare more ſtrong Then are vpon you yet.