Massinger, Philip · published 1636 · first performed or written 1627 [licensed for stage, Jul 5] (Annals) comedy · Queen Henrietta Maria's Men · Phoenix/Cockpit unassigned nearest T14 Royal love, favour and dynastic relation · 479 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T14: prince, princess, love, king, lord, queen, madam, grace, lady, life.
Offend my Lord? I feel myself much younger for the favour. How is it with our gracious Master? He Sir Holds still his wonted Greatness, and confesses Himself your debtor, for your love, and care To the Prince Giovanni, and had sent Particular thanks by me, had his Grace known, The quick dispatch of what I was designed to Would have licensed me to see you. I am rich In his acknowledgement. Sir, I have heard Your happiness in a daughter. Sits the wind there? Fame gives her out for a rare masterpiece. 'Tis a plain Village Girl Sir, but obedient, That's her best beauty Sir. Let my desire To see her, find a fair construction from you, I bring no loose thought with me. You are that way My Lord free from suspicion. Her own manners (Without an imposition from me) I hope will prompt her to it. As she is She's come to make a tender of that service Which she stands bound to pay. With your fair leave I make bold to salute you. Sir, ay, you have it. I am her Gentlewoman, will he not kiss me to? This is course i'faith. How he falls off! My Lord, though silence best becomes a Maid, And to be curious to know but what concerns myself, and with becoming distance, May argue me of boldness, I must borrow So much of modesty as to inquire Prince Giovanni's health? He cannot want, what you are pleased to wish him. Would 'twere so, And then there is no blessing that can make A hopeful and a noble Prince complete, But should fall on him. O, he was our North star, The light and pleasure of our eyes. Where am I? I feel myself another thing! Can charms Be writ on such pure Rubies? Her lips melt as soon as touched! not those smooth gales that glide o'er happy Arabia, or rich Sabaea, Creating in their passage gums and spices, Can serve for a weak simile to express The sweetness of her breath. Such a brave stature Homer bestowed on Pallas, every limb Proportioned to it. This is strange; my Lord. I crave your pardon, and yours, matchless Maid, For such I must report you. There's no notice Taken all this while of me. And I must add If your discourse and reason parallel The rareness of your more than humane form, You are a wonder. Pray you my Lord make trial: She can speak I can assure you, and that my presence May not take from her freedom, I will leave you. For know my Lord, my confidence dares trust her Where, and with whom she pleases. If he be Taken the right way with her, I cannot fancy A better match; and for false play I know The tricks, and can discern them. Petronella! Yes my good Lord.
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: T9 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Offend my Lord? I feele my selfe much younger for the favour. How is it with our gracious Master? He Sir Holds still his wonted Greatnesse, and confesses Himselfe your debtor, for your love, and care To the Prince Giovanni, and had sent Particular thanks by me, had his Grace knowne, The quick dispatch of what I was design'd to Would have licenc'd me to see you. I am rich In his acknowledgement. Sir, I have heard Your happinesse in a daughter. Sits the winde there? Fame gives her out for a rare master-peece. 'Tis a plaine Village Girle Sir, but obedient, That's her best beauty Sir. Let my desire To see her, finde a faire construction from you, I bring no loose thought with me. You are that way My Lord free from suspition. Her owne manners (Without an imposition from me) I hope will prompt her to it. As she is She's come to make a tender of that service Which she stands bound to pay. With your faire leave I make bold to salute you. Sir, I, you have it. I am her Gentlewoman, wil he not kisse me to? This is course ifaith. How he falls off! My Lord, though silence best becomes a Mayde, And to be curious to know but what concernes my selfe, and with becomming distance, May argue me of boldnesse, I must borrow So much of modesty as to enquire Prince Giovannies health? Hee cannot want, what you are pleas'd to wish him. Would 'twere so, And then there is no blessing that can make A hopefull and a noble Prince compleat, But should fall on him. O, he was our North star, The light and pleasure of our eyes. Where am I? I feele my selfe another thing! Can charmes Be writ on such pure Rubies? Her lips melt Assoone as touch'd! not those smooth gales that glide O're happy Arabie, or rich Sabaea, Creating in their passage gummes and spices, Can serve for a weake simile to expresse The sweetnesse of her breath. Such a brave stature Homer bestow'd on Pallas, every limbe Proportion'd to it. This is strange; my Lord. I crave your pardon, and yours, matchlesse Mayd, For such I must report you. There's no notice Taken all this while of me. And I must adde If your discourse and reason parallel The rarenesse of your more then humane forme, You are a wonder. Pray you my Lord make triall: She can speak I can assure you, and that my presence May not take from her freedome, I will leave you. For know my Lord, my confidence dares trust her Where, and with whom she pleases. If he be Taken the right way with her, I cannot fancie A better match; and for false play I know The tricks, and can discerne them. Petronella! Yes my good Lord.