Marmion, Shackerley · published 1633 · first performed or written 1633 [1632-1633] (Annals) comedy · Prince Charles's Men (second) · before the Court unassigned nearest T48 Addressing a lady: love, desire and inti · 498 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T48: lady, love, heart, fair, eyes, la, lord, tears, fie, face.
I would first demand your opinion of me. Truly I have no skill to make any conjecture by the outward appearance, but by the Title page of your face, I should judge you to be somewhat ancient. Take my word for it, the Index is false printed, if you please to turn to the book, you shall find no such thing written. O 'tis worm eaten, time has cankered it, beside there be so many dashes, my understanding will not serve me to read it, and a woman has no use of her Clergy. But love has renewed it sweet Lady, and this is another edition. How long is it since the copy has been altered? Let it not seem strange to you that I have felt this transformation, your form has wrought a miracle upon me, the pulchritude of your feature, that is able to extract youth out of age, and could make Aeson young again, without the help of Medea, it has put a fire into me, and I must impute it neither to Herbs, nor Philtrums, but to the influence, and power of your beauty. A fire, 'tis a foolish one, that leads you without the precinct of your gravity, I strange, a man of your judgement should talk so preposterously. Why sweet Lady? Sweet Lady, what a petulant word is there, for a man of your beard? a Boy of fifteen would not have spoke it without blushing, and there's a smile able to turn my stomach. I wonder you will make yourself so ridiculous. If this be the best language she can afford him, 'twere safe for me not to hear it. I may be called for a witness. Stay Crochet, whither goest thou? I'll come presently sir, I'll come presently. Now you are alone, I'll tell you what I think of you, you are an old doting fool, one that twenty years since, has drunk the Lethe of humanity, and forgot of what sex thou wert, worn out of all remembrance of thyself, thou hast a body, that a fever cannot heat, nor poison work upon, a face more rugged than winter, thy beard is moss, and thy skin so hard, that the perpetual dropping of thy nose cannot soften it. These indignities are not to be endured, her abuses are more monstrous, than the prodigy she would make of me. And yet you would be in love forsooth, whom Cupid with all his strength is not able to pierce, you have not one poor open to let in an Arrow, more need have a cordial to comfort you. Rank injuries, mock me to my teeth. If you had any. I would your father heard you: he left no such thing in your Commission. How dare you do it? Yes and if I marry you, I'll use you accordingly, I'll have no mercy on thy age, I tell you before hand, that when it happens, it may not seem strange to you.
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 would firſt demand your opinion of me. Truly I have no skill to make any conjecture by the outward appeareance, but by the Title page of your face, I ſhould judge you to be ſomewhat ancient. Take my word for it, the Index is falſe printed, if you pleaſe to turne to the booke, you ſhall find no ſuch thing written. O tis worme eaten, time has cankerd it, beſides there be ſo many daſhes, my vnderſtanding will not ſerve mee to reade it, and a woman has no vſe of her Clergy. But love has renew'd it ſweete Lady, and this is another edition. How long is it ſince the coppy has beene alter'd? Let it not ſeeme ſtrange to you that I have felt this transformation, your forme has wrought a miracle vpon me, the pulchritude of your feature, that is able to extract youth out of age, and could make Aeſon young againe, without the helpe of Medea, it has put a fire into mee, and I muſt impute it neither to Herbes, nor Philtrums, but to the influence, and power of your beauty. A fire, 'tis a fooliſh one, that leades you without the precinct of your gravity, I ſtrange, a man of your judgement ſhould talke ſo prepoſterouſly. Why ſweete Lady? Sweete Lady, what a petulant word is there, for a man of your beard? a Boy of fifteene would not have ſpoke it without bluſhing, and ther's a ſmile able to turne my ſtomack. I wonder you will make your ſelfe ſo ridiculous. If this be the beſt language ſhee can afford him, 'twere ſafe for mee not to heare it. I may be call'd for a witneſſe. Stay Crochet, whither goeſt thou? Ile come preſently ſir, Ile come preſently. Now you are alone, Ile tell you what I thinke of you, you are an old doting foole, one that twenty yeares ſince, has drunke the Lethe of humanity, and forgot of what ſexe thou wert, worne out of all remembrance of thy ſelfe, thou haſt a body, that a feaver cannot heat, nor poyſon worke upon, a face more rugged then winter, thy beard is moſſe, and thy skin ſo hard, that the perpetuall dropping of thy noſe cannot ſoften it. Theſe indignities are not to be endur'd, her abuſes are more monſtrous, then the prodegie ſhee would make of me. And yet you would bee in loue forſooth, whom Cupid with all his ſtrength is not able to pierce, you haue not one pore open to let in an Arrow, more need haue a cordiall to comfort you. Ranke iniuries, mocke me to my teeth. If you had any. I would your father heard you: he left no ſuch thing in your Commiſſion. How dare you doe it? Yes and if I marry you, Ile uſe you accordingly, Ile haue no mercy on thy age, I tell you before hand, that when it happens, it may not ſeeme ſtrange to you.