Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1609 [c.1608-1611] (Annals) romance · King's Men T38 Death, parting and grief at court typicality 0.85 · 499 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T38: queen, king, death, dead, heart, life, die, lord, royal, news.
Stand by my side you, whom the Gods have made Preservers of my Throne: woe is my heart, That the poor Soldier that so richly fought, Whose rags, shamed gilded Arms, whose naked breast Steptf before Targes of proof, cannot be found: He shall be happy that can find him, if Our Grace can make him so. I never saw Such Noble fury in so poor a Thing; Such precious deeds, in one that promised nought But beggary, and poor looks. No tidings of him? He hath been searched among the dead, & living; But no trace of him. To my grief, I am The heir of his Reward, which I will add To you (the Liver, Heart, and Brain of Britain) By whom (I grant) she lives. 'Tis now the time To ask of whence you are. Report it. Sir, In Cambria are we borne, and Gentlemen: Further to boast, were neither true, nor modest, Unless I add, we are honest. Bow your knees: Arise my Knights o' th' Battle, I create you Companions to our person, and will fit you With Dignities becoming your estates. There's business in these faces: why so sadly Greet you our Victory? you look like Romans', And not o' th' Court of Britain. Hail great King, To sour your happiness, I must report The Queen is dead. Who worse than a Physician Would this report become? But I consider, By Medicine life may be prolonged, yet death Will seize the Doctor too. How ended she? With horror, madly dying, like her life, Which (being cruel to the world) concluded Most cruel to herself. What she confessed, I will report, so please you. These her Women Can trip me, if I err, who with wet cheeks Were present when she finished. Prithee say. First, she confessed she never loved you: only Affected Greatness got by you: not you: Married your Royalty, was wife to your place: Abhorred your person. She alone knew this: And but she spoke it dying, I would not Believe her lips in opening it. Proceed. Your daughter, whom she bore in hand to love With such integrity, she did confess Was as a Scorpion to her sight, whose life (But that her flight prevented it) she had Ta'en off by poison. O most delicate Fiend! Who is't can read a Woman? Is there more? More Sir, and worse. She did confess she had For you a mortal Mineral, which being took, Should by the minute feed on life, and lingering, By inches waste you. In which time, she purposed By watching, weeping, tendance, kissing, to O'ercome you with her show; and in time (When she had fitted you with her craft, to work Her Son into th' adoption of the Crown: But failing of her end by his strange absence, Grew shameless desperate, opened (in despite Of Heaven and Men) her purposes: repent The evils she hatched, were not effected: so Despairing, died. Herd you all this, her Women?
seed 43: T44 · seed 44: T6 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Stand by my ſide you, whom the Gods haue made Preſeruers of my Throne: woe is my heart, That the poore Souldier that ſo richly fought, Whoſe ragges, ſham'd gilded Armes, whoſe naked breſt Stept before Tages of proofe, cannot be found: He ſhall be happy that can finde him, if Our Grace can make him ſo. I neuer ſaw Such Noble fury in ſo poore a Thing; Such precious deeds, in one that promiſt nought But beggery, and poore lookes. No tydings of him? He hath bin ſearch'd among the dead, & liuing; But no trace of him. To my greefe, I am The heyre of his Reward, which I will adde To you (the Liuer, Heart, and Braine of Britaine) By whom (I grant) ſhe liues. 'Tis now the time To aske of whence you are. Report it. Sir, In Cambria are we borne, and Gentlemen: Further to boaſt, were neyther true, nor modeſt, Vnleſſe I adde, we are honeſt. Bow your knees: Ariſe my Knights o' th' Battell, I create you Companions to our perſon, and will fit you With Dignities becomming your eſtates. There's buſineſſe in theſe faces: why ſo ſadly Greet you our Victory? you looke like Romaines, And not o' th' Court of Britaine. Hayle great King, To ſowre your happineſſe, I muſt report The Queene is dead. Who worſe then a Phyſitian Would this report become? But I conſider, By Med'cine life may be prolong'd, yet death Will ſeize the Doctor too. How ended ſhe? With horror, madly dying, like her life, Which (being cruell to the world) concluded Moſt cruell to her ſelfe. What ſhe confeſt, I will report, ſo pleaſe you. Theſe her Women Can trip me, if I erre, who with wet cheekes Were preſent when ſhe finiſh'd. Prythee ſay. Firſt, ſhe confeſt ſhe neuer lou'd you: onely Affected Greatneſſe got by you: not you: Married your Royalty, was wife to your place: Abhorr'd your perſon. She alone knew this: And but ſhe ſpoke it dying, I would not Beleeue her lips in opening it. Proceed. Your daughter, whom ſhe bore in hand to loue With ſuch integrity, ſhe did confeſſe Was as a Scorpion to her ſight, whoſe life (But that her flight preuented it) ſhe had Tane off by poyſon. O moſt delicate Fiend! Who is't can reade a Woman? Is there more? More Sir, and worſe. She did confeſſe ſhe had For you a mortall Minerall, which being tooke, Should by the minute feede on life, and ling'ring, By inches waſte you. In which time, ſhe purpos'd By watching, weeping, tendance, kiſſing, to Orecome you with her ſhew; and in time (When ſhe had fitted you with her craft, to worke Her Sonne into th' adoption of the Crowne: But fayling of her end by his ſtrange abſence, Grew ſhameleſſe deſperate, open'd (in deſpight Of Heauen and Men) her purpoſes: repented The euils ſhe hatch'd, were not effected: ſo Diſpayring, dyed. Heard you all this, her Women?