Shakespeare, William / Middleton, Thomas · published 1623 · first performed or written 1606 (Annals) tragedy · King's Men unassigned nearest T18 Rebels, barons and the king's wars at ho · 514 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T18: king, lord, wallace, earl, edward, england, scotland, rebels, bruce, english.
My former Speeches, Have but hit your Thoughts Which can interpret farther: Only I say Things have been strangely borne. The gracious Duncan Was pitied of Macbeth: marry he was dead: And the right valiant Banquo walked too late, Whom you may say (if't please you) Fleans killed, For Fleans fled: Men must not walk too late. Who cannot want the thought, how monstrous It was for Malcolme, and for Donalbane To kill their gracious Father? Damned Fact, How it did grieve Macbeth? Did he not strait In pious rage, the two delinquents tear, That were the Slaves of drink, and thralls of sleep? Was not that Nobly done? I, and wisely too: For 'twould have angered any heart alive To hear the men deny't. So that I say, He has borne all things well, and I do think, That had he Duncans Sons under his Key, (As, and't please Heaven he shall not) they should find What 'twere to kill a Father: So should Fleans. But peace; for from broad words, and cause he failed His presence at the Tyrant's Feast, I hear Macduffe lives in disgrace. Sir, can you tell Where he bestows himself? The Sons of Duncane (From whom this Tyrant holds the due of Birth) Lives in the English Court, and is received Of the most Pious Edward, with such grace, That the malevolence of Fortune, nothing Takes from his high respect. Thither Macduffe Is gone, to pray the Holy King, upon his aid To wake Northumberland, and warlike Seyward, That by the help of these (with him above) To ratify the Work) we may again Give to our Table's meat, sleep to our Nights: Free from our Feasts, and Banquets bloody knives; Do faithful Homage, and receive free Honours, All which we pine for now. And this report Hath so exasperate their King, that he Prepares for some attempt of War. Sent he to Macduffe? He did: and with an absolute Sir, not I The cloudy Messenger turns me his back, And hums; as who should say, you'll rue the time That clogs me with this Answer. And that well might Advise him to a Caution, t' hold what distance His wisdom can provide. Some holy Angel Fly to the Court of England, and unfold His Message ere he come, that a swift blessing May soon return to this our suffering Country, Under a hand accursed. I'll send my Prayers with him. Thrice the brinded Cat hath mewed. Thrice, and once the Hedge-Pigge whined. Harpier cries, 'tis time, 'tis time. Round about the Cauldron go: In the poisoned Entrails throw Toad, that under cold stone, Days and Nights, has thirty one: Sweltered Venom sleeping got, Boil thou first i' th' charmed pot. Double, double, toil and trouble; Fire burn, and Cauldron bubble. Fillet of a Fenny Snake, In the Cauldron boil and bake: Eye of Newt, and Toe of Frog, Wool of Bat, and Tongue of Dog: Adders Forke, and Blinde-wormes Sting, Lizards leg, and Owlets wing: For a Charm of powerful trouble, Like a Hell-broth, boil and bubble.
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)
My former Speeches, Haue but hit your Thoughts Which can interpret farther: Onely I ſay Things haue bin ſtrangely borne. The gracious Duncan Was pittied of Macbeth: marry he was dead: And the right valiant Banquo walk'd too late, Whom you may ſay (if't pleaſe you) Fleans kill'd, For Fleans fled: Men muſt not walke too late. Who cannot want the thought, how monſtrous It was for Malcolme, and for Donalbane To kill their gracious Father? Damned Fact, How it did greeue Macbeth? Did he not ſtraight In pious rage, the two delinquents teare, That were the Slaues of drinke, and thralles of ſleepe? Was not that Nobly done? I, and wiſely too: For 'twould haue anger'd any heart aliue To heare the men deny't. So that I ſay, He ha's borne all things well, and I do thinke, That had he Duncans Sonnes vnder his Key, (As, and't pleaſe Heauen he ſhall not) they ſhould finde What 'twere to kill a Father: So ſhould Fleans. But peace; for from broad words, and cauſe he fayl'd His preſence at the Tyrants Feaſt, I heare Macduffe liues in diſgrace. Sir, can you tell Where he beſtowes himſelfe? The Sonnes of Duncane (From whom this Tyrant holds the due of Birth) Liues in the Engliſh Court, and is receyu'd Of the moſt Pious Edward, with ſuch grace, That the maleuolence of Fortune, nothing Takes from his high reſpect. Thither Macduffe Is gone, to pray the Holy King, vpon his ayd To wake Northumberland, and warlike Seyward, That by the helpe of theſe (with him aboue) To ratifie the Worke) we may againe Giue to our Tables meate, ſleepe to our Nights: Free from our Feaſts, and Banquets bloody kniues; Do faithfull Homage, and receiue free Honors, All which we pine for now. And this report Hath ſo exaſperate their King, that hee Prepares for ſome attempt of Warre. Sent he to Macduffe? He did: and with an abſolute Sir, not I The clowdy Meſſenger turnes me his backe, And hums; as who ſhould ſay, you'l rue the time That clogges me with this Anſwer. And that well might Aduiſe him to a Caution, thold what diſtance His wiſedome can prouide. Some holy Angell Flye to the Court of England, and vnfold His Meſſage ere he come, that a ſwift bleſſing May ſoone returne to this our ſuffering Country, Vnder a hand accurs'd. Ile ſend my Prayers with him. Thrice the brinded Cat hath mew'd. Thrice, and once the Hedge-Pigge whin'd. Harpier cries, 'tis time, 'tis time. Round about the Caldron go: In the poyſond Entrailes throw Toad, that vnder cold ſtone, Dayes and Nights, ha's thirty one: Sweltred Venom ſleeping got, Boyle thou firſt i' th' charmed pot. Double, double, toile and trouble; Fire burne, and Cauldron bubble. Fillet of a Fenny Snake, In the Cauldron boyle and bake: Eye of Newt, and Toe of Frogge, Wooll of Bat, and Tongue of Dogge▪ Adders Forke, and Blinde-wormes Sting, Lizards legge, and Howlets wing: For a Charme of powrefull trouble, Like a Hell-broth, boyle and bubble.