The Bird in a Cage (The Beauties) · chunk 20 of 37
Shirley, James · published 1633 · first performed or written 1633 [licensed for stage, Jun 21] [incorrect] (Annals) comedy · Queen Henrietta Maria's Men · Phoenix/Cockpit unassigned nearest T0 Court life: dukes, favour and honour · 482 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T0: duke, lord, duchess, love, court, madam, prince, honour, grace, lady.
I was costive, and an Infidel, you are Christian coxcombs, and so, while I see what will become of the mirth, that is gone before, I leave your wise Signiorships to the mercy of your Garters, which is a speedy way, after a little time, to make yourselves invisible indeed. Fare you well. Signior Grutti we are gulled. I always thought he would cheat us, what shall's do, to prevent more laughter? I am resolved— I shall get no more money by him, Gentlemen be not head-hung, droop not, 'tis in this Sconce, to revenge yourselves, and it may be, recover your Crowns too. How prithee? My Master— Is invisible, we know't too well. What will you give me, if I discover him to your eyes again, nay give him to your possession. Give him money. This. And this— oh quickly. Then first know, my Master is not that man you took him for, no Altomaro he, but Bonamico the decayed Artist, he that made Properties, and grew poor for want of Pictures, who for fear of his Creditors left his dwelling, and in this quaint disguise, set up the Trade of cozening such wise Gentlemen as you are. Bonamico! The same. Oh that we could reach him again. Follow me close, and I will bring you within an hair's breadth of his false Beard immediately. That will be excellent. Nimbly good Mercury, nimbly. Madam you are too passive, if you be dejected what must we, whose hopes and blisses depend upon your Fortune. Oh liberty, liberty; are all the Roman spirits extinct? Never a Brutus in Nature, to deliver poor Ladies from this Captivity. Since there is no probability of our enlargement, let's be merry, and despise our Sufferings, laugh, tell Tales, sing, dance, any thing to cozen our melancholy. There are some thoughts that stick upon my memory, I would fain discharge. Shall we try our Lutes Madam? And voices if you please. Yes you may try, they say Music built the walls of Thebes, it were a greater miracle if you could charm these to fall, I shall never endure to live an Anchorite thus, and it were not for the happiness that I do sometimes dream of a man, I should leap the Battlement. Now would I give all my jewels for the sight of a pair of Breeches, though there were nothing in 'em. This but feeds our dulness, shall we dance Madam and stir ourselves. I am for that Music, we shall grow to the ground and we use no more activity. With all my heart. None a your dull measures, there's no sport but in your Country fegaries, a nimble dance will heat, and and make us merry. Hark, the Bell. Some news from the Duke. A Letter Madam and these jewels. Ha! whence— from Florence? This is my father's practice, i'll peruse the Paper.
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 was costiue, and an Infidell, you are Christian coxcombes, and so, while I see what will become of the mirth, that is gone before, I leaue your wise Signiorships to the mercy of your Garters, which is a speedy way, after a little time, to make your selves invisible indeed. Fare you well. Signior Grutti we are gull'd. I alwayes thought he would cheat us, what shall's doe, to prevent more laughter? I am resolv'd—I shall get no more money by him, Gentlemen be not head-hung, droope not, 'tis in this Sconce, to revenge your selves, and it may bee, recover your Crownes too. How prithee? My Master— Is invisible, we know't too well. What will you give mee, if I discover him to your eyes agen, nay give him to your possession. Give him mny. This. And this—oh quickly. Then first know, my Master is not that man you tooke him for, no Altomaro he, but Bonamico the decayd Artist, he that made Properties, and grew poore for want of Pictures, who for feare of is Creditors left his dwelling, and in this quaint disguise, set up the Trade of cozening such wise Gentlemen as you are. Bonamico! The same. Oh that we could reach him againe. Follow me close, and I will bring you within an hayres bredth of his false Beard immediately. That will be excellent. Nimbly good Mercury, nimbly. Madam you are too passive, if you bee deiected what must we, whose hopes and blisses depend upon your Fortune. Oh liberty, liberty; are all the Roman spirits extinct? Never a Brutus in Nature, to deliver poore Ladies from this Captivity. Since there is no probability of our enlargement, let's be merry, and despise our Sufferings, laugh, tell Tales, sing, dance, any thing to cozen our melancholy. There are some thoughts that stick upon my memory, I would faine discharge. Shall we try our Lutes Madam? And voyces if you please. Yes you may try, they say Musicke built the wals of Thebes, it were a greater myracle if you could charme these to fall, I shall never indure to live an Anchorite thus, and it were not for the happinesse that I doe sometimes dreame of a man, I should leape the Battlement. Now would I give all my jewels for the sight of a paire of Breeches, though there were nothing in em. This but feedes our dulnesse, shall we dance Madam and stirre our selves. I am for that Musicke, we shall grow to the ground and we use no more activity. With all my heart. None a your dull measures, there's no sport but in your Country Figaries, a nimble dance will heate, and and make us merry. Harke, the Bell. Some newes from the Duke. A Letter Madam and these iewels. Ha! whence—from Florence? This is my fathers practise, ile peruse the Paper.