Shakespeare, William / Middleton, Thomas · published 1623 · first performed or written 1607 [c.1606-c.1608] (Annals) tragedy · King's Men unassigned nearest T34 Thebes and royal catastrophe: siege, sla · 480 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T34: thebes, antigone, polynices, creon, eteocles, war, theban, gods, dear, country.
Let me look back upon thee. O thou Wall That girdles in those Wolves, dive in the earth, And fence not Athens. Matrons, turn incontinent, Obedience fail in Children: Slaves and Fools Pluck the grave wrinkled Senate from the Bench, And minister in their steeds, to general Filthes. Convert o' th' Instant green Virginity, Do't in your Parents eyes. Bankrupts, hold fast Rather than render back; out with your Knives, And cut your Trusters' throats. Bound Servants, steal, Large-handed Robbers your grave Masters are, And pill by Law. Maid, to thy Master's bed, Thy Mistress is o' th' Brothel. Some of sixteen, Pluck the lined Crutch from thy old limping Sire, With it, beat out his Brains, Piety, and Fear, Religion to the Gods, Peace, justice, Truth, Domestic awe, Night-rest, and Neighbourhood, Instruction, Manners, Mysteries, and Trades, Degrees, Observances, Customs, and Laws, Decline to your confounding contraries. And yet Confusion live: Plagues incident to men, Your potent and infectious Favours, heap On Athens ripe for stroke. Thou cold Sciatica, Cripple our Senators, that their limbs may halt As lamely as their Manners, Lust, and Liberty Creep in the Minds and Marrows of our youth, That 'gainst the stream of Virtue they may strive, And drown themselves in Riot. Itches, Blains, So we all th' Athenian bosoms, and their crop Be general Leprosy: Breath, infect breath, That their Society (as their Friendship) may Be merely poison. Nothing I'll bear from thee But nakedness, thou detestable Town, Take thou that too, with multiplying Bannes: Timon will to the Woods, where he shall find Th' unkindest Beast, more kinder than Mankind. The Gods confound (hear me you good Gods all) Th' Athenians both within and out that Wall: And grant as Timon grows, his hate may grow To the whole race of Mankind, high and low. Amen. Hear you M. Steward, where's our Master? Are we undone, cast off, nothing remaining? Alack my Fellows, what should I say to you? Let me be recorded by the righteous Gods, I am as poor as you. Such a House broke? So Noble a Master fall'n, all gone, and not One Friend to take his Fortune by the arm, And go along with him. As we do turn our backs From our Companion, thrown into his grave, So his Familiars to his buried Fortunes Slink all away leave their false vows with him Like empty purses picked; and his poor self A dedicated Beggar to the Air, With his disease, of all shunned poverty, Walks like contempt alone. More of our Fellows. All broken Implements of a ruined house. Yet do our hearts wear Timon's Livery, That see I by our Faces: we are Fellows still, Serving alike in sorrow: Leaked is our Bark, And we poor Mates, stand on the dying Deck, Hearing the Surges threat: we must all part Into this Sea of Air.
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)
Let me looke backe vpon thee. O thou Wall That girdles in thoſe Wolues, diue in the earth, And fence not Athens. Matrons, turne incontinent, Obedience fayle in Children: Slaues and Fooles Plucke the graue wrinkled Senate from the Bench, And miniſter in their ſteeds, to generall Filthes. Conuert o' th' Inſtant greene Virginity, Doo't in your Parents eyes. Bankrupts, hold faſt Rather then render backe; out with your Kniues, And cut your Truſters throates. Bound Seruants, ſteale, Large-handed Robbers your graue Maſters are, And pill by Law. Maide, to thy Maſters bed, Thy Miſtris is o' th' Brothell. Some of ſixteen, Plucke the lyn'd Crutch from thy old limping Sire, With it, beate out his Braines, Piety, and Feare, Religion to the Gods, Peace, Iuſtice, Truth, Domeſticke awe, Night-reſt, and Neighbour-hood, Inſtruction, Manners, Myſteries, and Trades, Degrees, Obſeruances, Cuſtomes, and Lawes, Decline to your confounding contraries. And yet Confuſion liue: Plagues incident to men, Your potent and infectious Feauors, heape On Athens ripe for ſtroke. Thou cold Sciatica, Cripple our Senators, that their limbes may halt As lamely as their Manners▪ Luſt, and Libertie Creepe in the Mindes and Marrowes of our youth, That 'gainſt the ſtreame of Vertue they may ſtriue, And drowne themſelues in Riot. Itches, Blaines, So we all th' Athenian boſomes, and their crop Be generall Leproſie: Breath, infect breath, That their Society (as their Friendſhip) may Be meerely poyſon. Nothing Ile beare from thee But nakedneſſe, thou deteſtable Towne, Take thou that too, with multiplying Bannes: Timon will to the Woods, where he ſhall finde Th' vnkindeſt Beaſt, more kinder then Mankinde. The Gods confound (heare me you good Gods all) Th' Athenians both within and out that Wall: And graunt as Timon growes, his hate may grow To the whole race of Mankinde, high and low. Amen. Heare you M. Steward, where's our Maſter? Are we vndone, caſt off, nothing remaining? Alack my Fellowes, what ſhould I ſay to you? Let me be recorded by the righteous Gods, I am as poore as you. Such a Houſe broke? So Noble a Maſter falne, all gone, and not One Friend to take his Fortune by the arme, And go along with him. As we do turne our backes From our Companion, throwne into his graue, So his Familiars to his buried Fortunes Slinke all away leaue their falſe vowes with him Like empty purſes pickt; and his poore ſelfe A dedicated Beggar to the Ayre, With his diſeaſe, of all ſhunn'd pouerty, Walkes like contempt alone. More of our Fellowes. All broken Implements of a ruin'd houſe. Yet do our hearts weare Timons Liuery, That ſee I by our Faces: we are Fellowes ſtill, Seruing alike in ſorrow: Leak'd is our Barke, And we poore Mates, ſtand on the dying Decke, Hearing the Surges threat: we muſt all part Into this Sea of Ayre.