Shakespeare, William / Middleton, Thomas · published 1623 · first performed or written 1606 (Annals) tragedy · King's Men unassigned nearest T1 Death, grief and revenge · 511 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
Woe, alas: What, in our House? Too cruel, any where. Dear Duff, I prithee contradict thyself, And say, it is not so. Had I but died an hour before this chance, I had lived a blessed time: for from this instant, There's nothing serious in Mortality: All is but Toys: Renown and Grace is dead, The Wine of Life is drawn, and the mere Lees Is left this Vault, to brag of. What is amiss? You are, and do not know't: The Spring, the Head, the Fountain of your Blood Is stopped, the very Source of it is stopped. Your Royal Father's murdered. Oh, by whom? Those of his Chamber, as it seemed, had done't: Their Hands and Faces were all badged with blood, So were their Daggers, which vnwip'd, we found Upon their Pillows: they stared, and were distracted, No man's Life was to be trusted with them. O, yet I do repent me of my fury, That I did kill them. Wherefore did you so? Who can be wise, amazed, temperate, & furious, Loyal, and Neutral, in a moment? No man: Th' expedition of my violent Love Outrun the pawser, Reason. Here lay Duncan, His Silver skin, laced with his Golden Blood, And his gashed Stabs, looked like a Breach in Nature, For Ruins wasteful entrance: there the Murderers, Steeped in the Colours of their Trade; their Daggers Unmannerly breeched with gore: who could refrain, That had a heart to love; and in that heart, Courage, to makes love known? Help me hence, hoa. Look to the Lady. Why do we hold our tongues, That most may claim this argument for ours? What should be spoken here, Where our Fate hid in an augur hole, May rush, and seize us? Let's away, Our Tears are not yet brewed. Nor our strong Sorrow Upon the foot of Motion. Look to the Lady: And when we have our naked Frailties hid, That suffer in exposure; let us meet, And question this most bloody piece of work, To know it further. Fears and scruples shake us: In the great Hand of God I stand, and thence, Against the vndivulg'd pretence, I fight Of Treasonous Malice. And so do I. So all. Let's briefly put on manly readiness, And meet i' th' Hall together. Well contented. What will you do? Let's not consort with them: To show an unfelt Sorrow, is an Office Which the false man does easy. I'll to England. To Ireland, I: Our separated fortune shall keep us both the safer: Where we are, there's Daggers in men's Smiles; The near in blood, the nearer bloody. This murderous Shaft that's shot, Hath not yet lighted: and our safest way, Is to avoid the aim. Therefore to Horse, And let us not be dainty of leaue-taking, But shift away: there's warrant in that Theft, Which steals itself, when there's no mercy left. Threescore and ten I can remember well, Within the Volume of which Time, I have seen Hours dreadful, and things strange: but this sore Night Hath trifled former know.
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)
Woe, alas: What, in our Houſe? Too cruell, any where. Deare Duff, I prythee contradict thy ſelfe, And ſay, it is not ſo. Had I but dy'd an houre before this chance, I had liu'd a bleſſed time: for from this inſtant, There's nothing ſerious in Mortalitie: All is but Toyes: Renowne and Grace is dead, The Wine of Life is drawne, and the meere Lees Is left this Vault, to brag of. What is amiſſe? You are, and doe not know't: The Spring, the Head, the Fountaine of your Blood Is ſtopt, the very Source of it is ſtopt. Your Royall Father's murther'd. Oh, by whom? Thoſe of his Chamber, as it ſeem'd, had don't: Their Hands and Faces were all badg'd with blood, So were their Daggers, which vnwip'd, we found Vpon their Pillowes: they ſtar'd, and were diſtracted, No mans Life was to be truſted with them. O, yet I doe repent me of my furie, That I did kill them. Wherefore did you ſo? Who can be wiſe, amaz'd, temp'rate, & furious, Loyall, and Neutrall, in a moment? No man: Th' expedition of my violent Loue Out-run the pawſer, Reaſon. Here lay Duncan, His Siluer skinne, lac'd with his Golden Blood, And his gaſh'd Stabs, look'd like a Breach in Nature, For Ruines waſtfull entrance: there the Murtherers, Steep'd in the Colours of their Trade; their Daggers Vnmannerly breech'd with gore: who could refraine, That had a heart to loue; and in that heart, Courage, to make's loue knowne? Helpe me hence, hoa. Looke to the Lady. Why doe we hold our tongues, That moſt may clayme this argument for ours? What ſhould be ſpoken here, Where our Fate hid in an augure hole, May ruſh, and ſeize vs? Let's away, Our Teares are not yet brew'd. Nor our ſtrong Sorrow Vpon the foot of Motion. Looke to the Lady: And when we haue our naked Frailties hid, That ſuffer in expoſure; let vs meet, And queſtion this moſt bloody piece of worke, To know it further. Feares and ſcruples ſhake vs: In the great Hand of God I ſtand, and thence, Againſt the vndivulg'd pretence, I fight Of Treaſonous Mallice. And ſo doe I. So all. Let's briefely put on manly readineſſe, And meet i' th' Hall together. Well contented. What will you doe? Let's not conſort with them: To ſhew an vnfelt Sorrow, is an Office Which the falſe man do's eaſie. Ile to England. To Ireland, I: Our ſeperated fortune ſhall keepe vs both the ſafer: Where we are, there's Daggers in mens Smiles; The neere in blood, the neerer bloody. This murtherous Shaft that's ſhot, Hath not yet lighted: and our ſafeſt way, Is to auoid the ayme. Therefore to Horſe, And let vs not be daintie of leaue-taking, But ſhift away: there's warrant in that Theft, Which ſteales it ſelfe, when there's no mercie left. Threeſcore and ten I can remember well, Within the Volume of which Time, I haue ſeene Houres dreadfull, and things ſtrange: but this ſore Night Hath trifled former knowings.