Shakespeare, William / Middleton, Thomas · published 1623 · first performed or written 1606 (Annals) tragedy · King's Men unassigned nearest T41 Household service: masters, doors and po · 491 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T41: master, house, door, iohn, old, mistress, basket, lord, gentleman, ick.
Thou'rt mad to say it. Is not thy Master with him? who, were't so, Would have informed for preparation. So please you, it is true: our Thane is coming: One of my fellows had the speed of him; Who almost dead for breath, had scarcely more Than would make up his Message. Give him tending, He brings great news. The Raven himself is hoarse, That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan Under my Battlements. Come you Spirits, That tend on mortal thoughts, vnsex me here, And fill me from the Crown to the Toe, topful Of direst Cruelty: make thick my blood, Stop up th' access, and passage to Remorse, That no compunctious visit of Nature Shake my fell purpose, nor keep peace between Th' effect, and hit. Come to my Woman's Breasts, And take my Milk for Gall, you murdering Ministers, Wherever, in your sightless substances, You wait on Nature's Mischief. Come thick Night, And palls thee in the dunnest smoke of Hell, That my keen Knife see not the Wound it makes, Nor Heaven peep through the Blanket of the dark, To cry, hold, hold. Great Glamys, worthy Cawdor, Greater than both, by the all-haile hereafter, Thy Letters have transported me beyond This ignorant present, and I feel now The future in the instant. My dearest Love, Duncan comes here to Night. And when goes hence? To morrow, as he purposes. O never, Shall Sun that Morrow see. Your Face, my Thane, is as a Book, where men May read strange matters, to beguile the time. Look like the time, bear welcome in your Eye, Your Hand, your Tongue: look like th' innocent flower, But be the Serpent under't. He that's coming, Must be provided for: and you shall put This Night's great Business into my dispatch, Which shall to all our Nights, and Days to come, Give solely sovereign sway, and Masterdom. We will speak further. Only look up clear: To alter favour, ever is to fear: Leave all the rest to me. This Castle hath a pleasant seat, The air nimbly and sweetly recommends itself Unto our gentle senses. This Guest of Summer, The Temple-haunting Barlet does approve, By his loved Mansonry, that the Heaven's breath Smells wooingly here: no jutty frieze, Buttrice, nor Coin of Vantage, but this Bird Hath made his pendant Bed, and procreant Cradle, Where they must breed, and haunt: I have observed The air is delicate. See, see, our honoured Hostess: The Love that follows us, sometime is our trouble, Which still we thank as Love.. Herein I teach you, How you shall bid God-eyld us for your pains, And thank us for your trouble. All our service, In every point twice done, and then done double, Were poor, and single Business, to contend Against those Honour's deep, and broad, Wherewith your Majesty loads our House: For those of old, and the late Dignities, Heaped up to them, we rest your Ermites'.
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)
Thou'rt mad to ſay it. Is not thy Maſter with him? who, wer't ſo, Would haue inform'd for preparation. So pleaſe you, it is true: our Thane is comming: One of my fellowes had the ſpeed of him; Who almoſt dead for breath, had ſcarcely more Then would make vp his Meſſage. Giue him tending, He brings great newes. The Rauen himſelfe is hoarſe, That croakes the fatall entrance of Duncan Vnder my Battlements. Come you Spirits, That tend on mortall thoughts, vnſex me here, And fill me from the Crowne to the Toe, top-full Of direſt Crueltie: make thick my blood, Stop vp th' acceſſe, and paſſage to Remorſe, That no compunctious viſitings of Nature Shake my fell purpoſe, nor keepe peace betweene Th' effect, and hit. Come to my Womans Breſts, And take my Milke for Gall, you murth'ring Miniſters, Where-euer, in your ſightleſſe ſubſtances, You wait on Natures Miſchiefe. Come thick Night, And pall thee in the dunneſt ſmoake of Hell, That my keene Knife ſee not the Wound it makes, Nor Heauen peepe through the Blanket of the darke, To cry, hold, hold. Great Glamys, worthy Cawdor, Greater then both, by the all-hale hereafter, Thy Letters haue tranſported me beyond This ignorant preſent, and I feele now The future in the inſtant. My deareſt Loue, Duncan comes here to Night. And when goes hence? To morrow, as he purpoſes. O neuer, Shall Sunne that Morrow ſee. Your Face, my Thane, is as a Booke, where men May reade ſtrange matters, to beguile the time. Looke like the time, beare welcome in your Eye, Your Hand, your Tongue: looke like th' innocent flower, But be the Serpent vnder't. He that's comming, Muſt be prouided for: and you ſhall put This Nights great Buſineſſe into my diſpatch, Which ſhall to all our Nights, and Dayes to come, Giue ſolely ſoueraigne ſway, and Maſterdome. We will ſpeake further. Onely looke vp cleare: To alter fauor, euer is to feare: Leaue all the reſt to me. This Caſtle hath a pleaſant ſeat, The ayre nimbly and ſweetly recommends it ſelfe Vnto our gentle ſences. This Gueſt of Summer, The Temple-haunting Barlet does approue, By his loued Manſonry, that the Heauens breath Smells wooingly here: no Iutty frieze▪ Buttrice, nor Coigne of Vantage, but this Bird Hath made his pendant Bed, and procreant Cradle, Where they muſt breed, and haunt: I haue obſeru'd The ayre is delicate. See, ſee, our honor'd Hoſteſſe: The Loue that followes vs, ſometime is our trouble, Which ſtill we thanke as Loue. Herein I teach you, How you ſhall bid God-eyld vs for your paines, And thanke vs for your trouble. All our ſeruice, In euery point twice done, and then done double, Were poore, and ſingle Buſineſſe, to contend Againſt thoſe Honors deepe, and broad, Wherewith your Maieſtie loades our Houſe: For thoſe of old, and the late Dignities, Heap'd vp to them, we reſt your Ermites.