Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1609 [c.1608-1611] (Annals) romance · King's Men unassigned nearest T40 Sin, guilt and violent loss within famil · 484 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T40: brother, death, life, die, heaven, sin, live, father, blood, soul.
Guiderius had Upon his neck a Mole, a sanguine Star, It was a mark of wonder. This is he, Who hath upon him still that natural stamp: It was wise Nature's end, in the donation To be his evidence now. Oh, what am I A Mother to the birth of three? Near Mother Rejoiced deliverance more: Blessed, pray you be, That after this strange starting from your Orbs, You may reign in them now: Oh Imogen, Thou hast lost by this a Kingdom. No, my Lord: I have got two Worlds by't. Oh my gentle Brothers, Have we thus met? Oh never say hereafter But I am truest speaker. You called me Brother When I was but your Sister: I you Brothers, When we were so indeed. Did you ere meet? I my good Lord. And at first meeting loved, Continued so, until we thought he died. By the Queen's Dram she swallowed. O rare instinct! When shall I hear all through? This fierce abridgement, Hath to it Circumstantial branches, which Distinction should be rich in. Where? how lived you? And when came you to serve our Roman Captive? How parted with your Brother? How first met them? Why fled you from the Court? And whether these? And your three motives to the Battle? with I know not how much more should be demanded, And all the other by-dependances From chance to chance? But nor the Time, nor Place Will serve our long Interrogatories. See, Posthumus Anchors upon Imogen; And she (like harmless Lightning) throws her eye On him: her Brothers, Me: her Master hitting Each object with a joy: the Counterchange Is severally in all. Let's quit this ground, And smoke the Temple with our Sacrifices. Thou art my Brother, so we'll hold thee ever. You are my Father too, and did relieve me: To see this gracious season. All o'erjoyed Save these in bonds, let them be joyful too, For they shall taste our Comfort. My good Master, I will yet do you service. Happy be you. The forlorn Soldier, that no Nobly fought He would have well becomed this place, and graced The thank of a King. I am Sir The Soldier that did company these three In poor beseeming: 'twas a fitment for The purpose I then followed. That I was he, Speak Iachimo, I had you down, and might Have made you finish. I am down again: But now my heavy Conscience sinks my knee, As than your force did. Take that life, beseech you Which I so often own: but your Ring first, And here the Bracelet of the truest Princess That ever swore her Faith. Kneel not to me: The power that I have on you, is to spare you: The malice towards you, to forgive you. Live And deal with others better. Nobly doomed: we'll learn our Freeness of a Son-in-law: Pardon's the word to all.
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)
Guiderius had Vpon his necke a Mole, a ſanguine Starre, It was a marke of wonder. This is he, Who hath vpon him ſtill that naturall ſtampe: It was wiſe Natures end, in the donation To be his euidence now. Oh, what am I A Mother to the byrth of three? Nere Mother Reioyc'd deliuerance more: Bleſt, pray you be, That after this ſtrange ſtarting from your Orbes, You may reigne in them now: Oh Imogen, Thou haſt loſt by this a Kingdome. No, my Lord: I haue got two Worlds by't. Oh my gentle Brothers, Haue we thus met? Oh neuer ſay heereafter But I am trueſt ſpeaker. You call'd me Brother When I was but your Siſter: I you Brothers, When we were ſo indeed. Did you ere meete? I my good Lord. And at firſt meeting lou'd, Continew'd ſo, vntill we thought he dyed. By the Queenes Dramme ſhe ſwallow'd. O rare inſtinct! When ſhall I heare all through? This fierce abridgment, Hath to it Circumſtantiall branches, which Diſtinction ſhould be rich in. Where? how liu'd you? And when came you to ſerue our Romane Captiue? How parted with your Brother? How firſt met them? Why fled you from the Court? And whether theſe? And your three motiues to the Battaile? with I know not how much more ſhould be demanded, And all the other by-dependances From chance to chance? But nor the Time, nor Place Will ſerue our long Interrogatories. See, Poſthumus Anchors vpon Imogen; And ſhe (like harmleſſe Lightning) throwes her eye On him: her Brothers, Me: her Maſter hitting Each obiect with a Ioy: the Counter-change Is ſeuerally in all. Let's quit this ground, And ſmoake the Temple with our Sacrifices. Thou art my Brother, ſo wee'l hold thee euer. You are my Father too, and did releeue me: To ſee this gracious ſeaſon. All ore-ioy'd Saue theſe in bonds, let them be ioyfull too, For they ſhall taſte our Comfort. My good Maſter, I will yet do you ſeruice. Happy be you. The forlorne Souldier, that no Nobly fought He would haue well becom'd this place, and grac'd The thankings of a King. I am Sir The Souldier that did company theſe three In poore beſeeming: 'twas a fitment for The purpoſe I then follow'd. That I was he, Speake Iachimo, I had you downe, and might Haue made you finiſh. I am downe againe: But now my heauie Conſcience ſinkes my knee, As then your force did. Take that life, beſeech you Which I ſo often owe: but your Ring firſt, And heere the Bracelet of the trueſt Princeſſe That euer ſwore her Faith. Kneele not to me: The powre that I haue on you, is to ſpare you: The malice towards you, to forgiue you. Liue And deale with others better. Nobly doom'd: Wee'l learne our Freeneſſe of a Sonne-in-Law: Pardon's the word to all.