Shakespeare, William / Middleton, Thomas · published 1623 · first performed or written 1607 [c.1606-c.1608] (Annals) tragedy · King's Men unassigned nearest T19 Virtue, Fortune and Vice as abstractions · 502 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T19: virtue, fortune, virtues, honour, fame, vice, envy, world, pride, great.
He pours it out: Plutus the God of Gold Is but his Steward: no meed but he repays Seuen-fold above itself: No gift to him, But breeds the giver a return: exceeding All use of quittance. The Noblest mind he carries, That ever governed man. Long may he live in Fortunes. Shall we in? I'll keep you Company. Most honoured Timon, It hath pleased the Gods to remember my Father's age, And call him to long peace: He is gone happy and has left me rich: Then, as in grateful Virtue I am bound To your free heart, I do return those Talents Doubled with thankes and service, from whose help I derived liberty. O by no means, Honest Ventigius: You mistake my love, I gave it freely ever, and there's none Can truly say he gives, if he receives: If our betters play at that game, we must not dare To imitate them: faults that are rich are fair. A Noble spirit. Nay my Lords, Ceremony was but devised at first To set a gloss on faint deeds, hollow welcomes, Recanting goodness, sorry ere 'tis shown: But where there is true friendship, there needs none, Pray sit, more welcome are ye to my Fortunes, Then my Fortunes to me. My Lord, we always have confessed it. Ho ho, confessed it? Handged it? Have you not? O Apermantus, you are welcome. No: You shall not make me welcome: I come to have thee thrust me out of doors. Fie, th' art a churl, ye ' have got a humour there Does not become a man, 'tis much too blame: They say my Lords, Irafuror brevis est, But yond man is very angry. Go, let him have a Table by himself: For he does neither affect company, Nor is he fit for't indeed. Let me stay at thine peril Timon, I come to observe, I give thee warning on't. I take no heed of thee: Th' art an Athenian, therefore welcome: I myself would have no power, prithee let my meat make thee silent. I scorn thy meat, 'twould choke me: for I should ne'er flatter thee. Oh you Gods! What a number of men eats Timon, and he sees 'em not? It grieves me to see so many dip there meat in one man's blood, and all the madness is, he cheers them up too. I wonder men dare trust themselves with men. Me thinks they should invite them without knives, Good for there meat, and safer for their lives. There's much example for't, the fellow that sits next him, now parts bread with him, pledges the breath of him in a divided draught: is the readiest man to kill him, 't'ad been proved, if I were a huge man I should fear to drink at meals, lest they should spy my windpipes dangerous notes, great men should drink with harness on their throats. My Lord in heart: and let the health go round. Let it flow this way my good Lord.
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)
He powres it out: Plutus the God of Gold Is but his Steward: no meede but he repayes Seuen-fold aboue it ſelfe: No guift to him, But breeds the giuer a returne: exceeding All vſe of quittance. The Nobleſt minde he carries, That euer gouern'd man. Long may he liue in Fortunes. Shall we in? Ile keepe you Company. Moſt honoured Timon, It hath pleas'd the Gods to remember my Fathers age, And call him to long peace: He is gone happy and has left me rich: Then, as in gratefull Vertue I am bound To your free heart, I do returne thoſe Talents Doubled with thankes and ſeruice, from whoſe helpe I deriu'd libertie. O by no meanes, Honeſt Ventigius: You miſtake my loue, I gaue it freely euer, and ther's none Can truely ſay he giues, if he receiues: If our betters play at that game, we muſt not dare To imitate them: faults that are rich are faire. A Noble ſpirit. Nay my Lords, Ceremony was but deuis'd at firſt To ſet a gloſſe on faint deeds, hollow welcomes, Recanting goodneſſe, ſorry ere 'tis ſhowne: But where there is true friendſhip, there needs none, Pray ſit, more welcome are ye to my Fortunes, Then my Fortunes to me. My Lord, we alwaies haue confeſt it. Ho ho, confeſt it? Handg'd it? Haue you not? O Apermantus, you are welcome. No: You ſhall not make me welcome: I come to haue thee thruſt me out of doores. Fie, th' art a churle, ye' haue got a humour there Does not become a man, 'tis much too blame: They ſay my Lords, Irafuror breuis eſt, But yond man is verie angrie. Go, let him haue a Table by himſelfe: For he does neither affect companie, Nor is he fit for't indeed. Let me ſtay at thine apperill Timon, I come to obſerue, I giue thee warning on't. I take no heede of thee: Th' art an Athenian, therefore welcome: I my ſelfe would haue no power, prythee let my meate make thee ſilent. I ſcorne thy meate, 'twould choake me: for I ſhould nere flatter thee. Oh you Gods! What a number of men eats Timon, and he ſees 'em not? It greeues me to ſee ſo many dip there meate in one mans blood, and all the madneſſe is, he cheeres them vp too. I wonder men dare truſt themſelues with men. Me thinks they ſhould enuite them without kniues, Good for there meate, and ſafer for their liues. There's much example for't, the fellow that ſits next him, now parts bread with him, pledges the breath of him in a diuided draught: is the readieſt man to kill him, 'Tas beene▪ proued, if I were a huge man I ſhould feare to drinke at meales, leaſt they ſhould ſpie my wind-pipes dangerous noates, great men ſhould drinke with harneſſe on their throates. My Lord in heart: and let the health go round. Let it flow this way my good Lord.