Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1607 [c.1606-1608] (Annals) tragedy · King's Men unassigned nearest T38 Death, parting and grief at court · 499 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T38: queen, king, death, dead, heart, life, die, lord, royal, news.
I am sick, and sullen. I am sorry to give breathing to my purpose. Help me away dear Charmian, I shall fall, It cannot be thus long, the sides of Nature Will not sustain it. Now my dearest Queen. Pray you stand farther from me. What's the matter? I know by that same eye there's some good news. What says the married woman you may go? Would she had never given you leave to come. Let her not say 'tis I that keep you here, I have no power upon you: Hers you are. The Gods best know. Oh never was there Queen So mightily betrayed: yet at the first I saw the Treasons planted. Cleopatra. Why should I think you can be mine, & true, (Though you in swearing shake the Throaned Gods) Who have been false to Fulvia? Riotous madness, To be entangled with those mouth-made vows, Which break themselves in swearing. Most sweet Queen. Nay pray you seek no colour for your going, But bid farewell, and go: When you sued staying, Then was the time for words: No going then, Eternity was in our Lips, and Eyes, Bliss in our brows bend: none our parts so poor, But was a race of Heaven. They are so still, Or thou the greatest Soldier of the world, Art turned the greatest liar. How now Lady? I would I had thy inches, thou shouldst know There were a heart in Egypt. Hear me Queen: The strong necessity of Time, commands Our Seruicles awhile: but my full heart Remains in use with you. Our Italy, Shines o'er with civil Swords; Sextus Pompeius Makes his approaches to the Port of Rome, Equality of two Domestic powers, Breed scrupulous faction: The hated grown to strength Are newly grown to Love: The condemned Pompey, Rich in his Father's Honour, creeps apace Into the hearts of such, as have not thrived Upon the present state, whose Numbers threaten, And quietness grown sick of rest, would purge By any desperate change: My more particular, And that which most with you should safe my going, Is Fuluias death. Though age from folly could not give me freedom It does from childishness. Can Fulvia dye? She's dead my Queen. Look here, and at thy Sovereign leisure read The Garboils she awaked: at the last, best, See when, and where she died. O most false Love! Where be the Sacred Viols thou shouldst fill With sorrowful water? Now I see, I see, In Fuluias death, how mine received shall be. Quarrel no more, but be prepared to know The purposes I bear: which are, or cease, As you shall give th' advice. By the fire That quickens Nilus' slime, I go from hence Thy Soldier, Servant, making Peace or War, As thou affects. Cut my Lace, Charmian come, But let it be, I am quickly ill, and well, So Anthony loves. My precious Queen forbear, And give true evidence to his Love, which stands An honourable Trial.
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)
I am ſicke, and ſullen. I am ſorry to giue breathing to my purpoſe. Helpe me away deere Charmian, I ſhall fall, It cannot be thus long, the ſides of Nature Will not ſuſtaine it. Now my deereſt Queene. Pray you ſtand farther from mee. What's the matter? I know by that ſame eye ther's ſome good news. What ſayes the married woman you may goe? Would ſhe had neuer giuen you leaue to come. Let her not ſay 'tis I that keepe you heere, I haue no power vpon you: Hers you are. The Gods beſt know. Oh neuer was there Queene So mightily betrayed: yet at the firſt I ſaw the Treaſons planted. Cleopatra. Why ſhould I thinke you can be mine, & true, (Though you in ſwearing ſhake the Throaned Gods) Who haue beene falſe to Fuluia? Riotous madneſſe, To be entangled with thoſe mouth-made vowes, Which breake themſelues in ſwearing. Moſt ſweet Queene. Nay pray you ſeeke no colour for your going, But bid farewell, and goe: When you ſued ſtaying, Then was the time for words: No going then, Eternity was in our Lippes, and Eyes, Bliſſe in our browes bent: none our parts ſo poore, But was a race of Heauen. They are ſo still, Or thou the greateſt Souldier of the world, Art turn'd the greateſt Lyar. How now Lady? I would I had thy inches, thou ſhould'ſt know There were a heart in Egypt. Heare me Queene: The ſtrong neceſſity of Time, commands Our Seruicles a-while: but my full heart Remaines in vſe with you. Our Italy, Shines o're with ciuill Swords; Sextus Pompeius Makes his approaches to the Port of Rome, Equality of two Domeſticke powers, Breed ſcrupulous faction: The hated growne to ſtrength Are newly growne to Loue: The condemn'd Pompey, Rich in his Fathers Honor, creepes apace Into the hearts of ſuch, as haue not thriued Vpon the preſent ſtate, whoſe Numbers threaten, And quietneſſe growne ſicke of reſt, would purge By any deſperate change: My more particular, And that which moſt with you ſhould ſafe my going, Is Fuluias death. Though age from folly could not giue me freedom It does from childiſhneſſe. Can Fuluia dye? She's dead my Queene. Looke heere, and at thy Soueraigne leyſure read The Garboyles ſhe awak'd: at the laſt, beſt, See when, and where ſhee died. O moſt falſe Loue! Where be the Sacred Violles thou ſhould'ſt fill With ſorrowfull water? Now I ſee, I ſee, In Fuluias death, how mine receiu'd ſhall be. Quarrell no more, but bee prepar'd to know The purpoſes I beare: which are, or ceaſe, As you ſhall giue th' aduice. By the fire That quickens Nylus ſlime, I go from hence Thy Souldier, Seruant, making Peace or Warre, As thou affects. Cut my Lace, Charmian come, But let it be, I am quickly ill, and well, So Anthony loues. My precious Queene forbeare, And giue true euidence to his Loue, which ſtands An honourable Triall.