The Bird in a Cage (The Beauties) · chunk 32 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 · 475 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T0: duke, lord, duchess, love, court, madam, prince, honour, grace, lady.
Great men, we are none. No but you may be, by the length of your wit and shortness of your memory, for if you have but wit enough to do mischief, and oblivion enough to forget good turns, you may come to great places in time, keep a fool a'your own, and than you are made— Made? What? Cuckolds, if my Lady take a liking to the innocent, O your Fool is an excellent fellow upon all occasions. Among all sorts of people the matter if we look well in, The Fool is the best, he from the rest, will carry away the Bell too. All places he is free of, and fools it without blushing At Masks and Plays, is not the bays thrust out, to let the plush in. Your fool is fine, he's merry, and of all men doth fear least, At every word he Jests with my Lord, and tickles my Lady in earnest: The fool doth pass the Guard now, he'll kiss his hand and leg it, When wisemen prate, and forfeit their state, who but the fine fool will beg it. He without fear can walk in, the streets that are so stony, Your Gallant sneakes, your Merchant breaks, he's a Fool that does owe no money. The Duke, where is the Duke? He's forthcoming, there's no more money i'th' Exchequer. I come to give up my accounts and reckon with him, somebody tell him so. And you do not reckon well with him, he'll be even with you, I'll do your Message. Do, and say I sent a Fool o' my errand prithee, cry mercy, such an Office would ha' become either of you Gentlemen. His tongue moves circular in abuses. The Duke. How now, what day is't? 'Tis Holiday. How? Therefore we are preparing a Morris to make your grace merry, they have chosen me for the Hobby-horse, and if do not deceive their expectation, they will laugh at me extremely before I die. Do you come like one prepared for death? Not so well I hope, as I may be hereafter, unless you will be unjust, and have a desire to be clapped into the Chronicles with some your Predecessors, for cutting off heads, when you do not like their complexion, 'tis but laying one block upon another, and I am quickly sent of a headless errand. Injust do you remember what sums you owe for, do not jest away your life. I crave no longer day for't, and I prove not myself free from my engagements. How? For although I had not the art to go invisible as these wise Courtiers nor could counterfeit another sex so becomingly as tother gaudy Signior, to introduce me to the Ladies, yet with your Princely licence I may say, 'tis done. Done? what is done. he's mad sir.
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)
Great men, we are none. No but you may be, by the length of your wit and shortnesse of your memory, for if you have but wit enough to doe mischiefe▪ and oblivion enough to forget good turnes, you may come to great places in time, keepe a foole a'your owne, and then you are made— Made? What? Cuckolds, if my Lady take liking to the innocent, O your Foole is an excellent fellow upon all occasions. Among all sorts of people the matter if we looke well in, The Foole is the best, he from the rest▪ will carry away the Bell too. All places he free of▪ and fooles it without blushing At Maskes and Playes, is not the Bayes thrust out, to let the plashin▪ Your foole is fine, he's merry, and of all men doth feare least, At every word he Jests with my Lord, and tickles my Lady in earnest: The foole doth passe the Guard now, he'l kisse his hand and leg it, When wisemen prate, and forfeit their state, who but the fine foole will beg it. He without feare can walke in, the streets that are so stonie, Your Gallant sneakes, your Marchant breakes, he's a Foole that does owe no mony. The Duke, where is the Duke? He's forthcomming, there's no more mony ith▪ Exchequer. I come to give up my accounts and reckon with him, some body tell him so. And you doe not reckon well with him, he'll be even with you, Ile doe your Message. Doe, and say I sent a Foole a my errand prithee, cry mercy, such an Office would ha' become eyther of you Gentlemen. His tongue moves circular in abuses. The Duke. How now, what day is't? 'Tis Holyday. How? Therefore wee are preparing a Morris to make your grace merry, they have chosen mee for the Hobbyhorse, and if doe not deceive theyr expectation, they will laugh at me extreamly before I dye. Doe you come like one prepar'd for death? Not so well I hope, as I may be hereafter, unlesse you will be uniust▪ and have a desire to be clapt into the Chronicles with some your Predecessors, for cutting off heads, when you doe not like theyr complexion, tis but laying one block vpon another, and I am quickly sent of a headlesse errand. Iniust doe you remember what sommes you owe for, doe not iest away your life. I craue no longer day for't, and I proue not my selfe free from my engagements. How? For although I had not the art to goe invisible as these wise Courtiers nor could counterfeit another sex so becommingly as tother gaudy Signior, to introduce me to the Ladies, yet with your Princely licence I may say, 'tis▪ done. Done? what is done. Hee's mad sir.