Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1607 [c.1606-1608] (Annals) tragedy · King's Men unassigned nearest T16 Gallantry: ladies, lordships and complim · 515 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T16: lady, madam, gentleman, lordship, ladies, honour, mistress, sweet, court, servant.
Her Gentlewoman, like the Nereids, So many Mermaids tended her i' th' eyes, And made their bends adorn. At the Helm. A seeming Mermaid steers: The Silken Tackle, Swell with the touches of those Flower-soft hands, That yarely frame the office. From the Barge A strange invisible perfume hits the sense Of the adjacent Wharfes. The City cast Her people out upon her: and Anthony Enthroned i' th' Marketplace, did sit alone, Whistling to ' th' air: which but for vacancy, Had gone to gaze on Cleopater too, And made a gap in Nature. Rare Egyptian. Upon her landing, Anthony sent to her, Invited her to Supper: she replied, It should be better, he became her guest: Which she entreated, our Courteous Anthony, Whom ne'er the word of no woman hard speak, Being barbered ten times o'er, goes to the Feast; And for his ordinary, pays his heart, For what his eyes eat only. Royal Wench: She made great Caesar lay his Sword to bed, He ploughed her, and she cropped. I saw her once Hop forty Paces through the public street. And having lost her breath, she spoke, and panted, That she did make defect, perfection, And breathless power breath forth. Now Anthony, must leave her utterly. Never he will not: Age cannot whither her, nor custom stolen Her infinite variety: other women cloy The appetites they feed, but she makes hungry, Where most she satisfies. For vildest things Become themselves in her, that the holy Priests Bless her, when she is Riggish. If Beauty, Wisdom, Modesty, can settle The heart of Anthony: Octavia is A blessed Lottery to him. Let us go. Good Enobarbus, make yourself my guest, whilst you abide here. Humbly Sir I thank you. The world, and my great office, will Sometimes divide me from your bosom. All which time, before the Gods my knee shall bow my prayers to them for you. Good-night Sir. My Octavia Read not my blemishes in the world's report: I have not kept my square, but that to come Shall all be done by th' Rule: good night dear Lady: Good night Sir. Good-night. Now sirrah: you do wish yourself in Egypt? Would I had never come from thence, nor you thither. If you can, your reason? I see it in my motion: have it not in my tongue, But yet hie you to Egypt again. Say to me, whose Fortunes shall rise higher Caesar's or mine? Caesars, Therefore (oh Anthony) stay not by his side Thy Daemon that thy spirit which keeps thee, is Noble, Courageous, high unmatchable, Where Caesar's is not. But near him, thy Angel Becomes a fear: as being o're-powred, therefore Make space enough between you. Speak this no more. To none but thee no more but: when to thee, If thou dost play with him at any game, Thou art sure to lose: And of that Natural luck, He beats thee 'gainst the odds. Thy Luster thickens, When he shines by: I say again, thy spirit Is all afraid to govern thee near him: But he always 'tis Noble.
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)
Her Gentlewoman, like the Nereides, So many Mer-maides tended her i' th' eyes, And made their bends adornings. At the Helme. A ſeeming Mer-maide ſteeres: The Silken Tackle, Swell with the touches of thoſe Flower-ſoft hands, That yarely frame the office. From the Barge A ſtrange inuiſible perfume hits the ſenſe Of the adiacent Wharfes. The Citty caſt Her people out vpon her: and Anthony Enthron'd i' th' Market-place, did ſit alone, Whiſling to' th' ayre: which but for vacancie, Had gone to gaze on Cleopater too, And made a gap in Nature. Rare Egiptian. Vpon her landing, Anthony ſent to her, Inuited her to Supper: ſhe replyed, It ſhould be better, he became her gueſt: Which ſhe entreated, our Courteous Anthony, Whom nere the word of no woman hard ſpeake, Being barber'd ten times o're, goes to the Feaſt; And for his ordinary, paies his heart, For what his eyes eate onely. Royall Wench: She made great Caeſar lay his Sword to bed, He ploughed her, and ſhe cropt. I ſaw her once Hop forty Paces through the publicke ſtreete. And hauing loſt her breath, ſhe ſpoke, and panted, That ſhe did make defect, perfection▪ And breathleſſe powre breath forth. Now Anthony, muſt leaue her vtterly. Neuer he will not: Age cannot wither her, nor cuſtome ſtale Her infinite variety: other women cloy The appetites they feede, but ſhe makes hungry, Where moſt ſhe ſatisfies. For vildeſt things Become themſelues in her, that the holy Prieſts Bleſſe her, when ſhe is Riggiſh. If Beauty, Wiſedome, Modeſty, can ſettle The heart of Anthony: Octauia is A bleſſed Lottery to him. Let vs go. Good Enobarbus, make your ſelfe my gueſt, whilſt you abide heere. Humbly Sir I thanke you. The world, and my great office, will Sometimes deuide me from your boſome. All which time, before the Gods my knee ſhall bowe my ptayers to them for you. Goodnight Sir. My Octauia Read not my blemiſhes in the worlds report: I haue not kept my ſquare, but that to come Shall all be done by th' Rule: good night deere Lady: Good night Sir. Goodnight. Now ſirrah: you do wiſh your ſelfe in Egypt? Would I had neuer come from thence, nor you thither. If you can, your reaſon? I ſee it in my motion: haue it not in my tongue, But yet hie you to Egypt againe. Say to me, whoſe Fortunes ſhall riſe higher Caeſars or mine? Caeſars, Therefore (oh Anthony) ſtay not by his ſide Thy Daemon that thy ſpirit which keepes thee, is Noble, Couragious, high vnmatchable, Where Caeſars is not. But neere him, hy Angell Becomes a feare: as being o're-powr'd, therefore Make ſpace enough betweene you. Speake this no more. To none but thee no more but: when to thee, If thou doſt play with him at any game, Thou art ſure to looſe: And of that Naturall lucke▪ He beats thee 'gainſt the oddes. Thy Luſter thickens, When he ſhines by: I ſay againe, thy ſpirit Is all affraid to gouerne thee neere him: But he alway 'tis Noble.