The Vow Breaker, or The Fair Maid of Clifton · chunk 34 of 36
Sampson, William · published 1636 · first performed or written 1625 [1625(?)-1636] (Annals) tragedy unassigned nearest T4 Love-longing and the lover's complaint · 476 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T4: love, heart, sweet, loves, fair, phillis, eyes, beauty, amyntas, lovers.
And I a thundering St. George as ever rode on horseback, but see yonder's sweet Ursula, more white than soot, and blacker than white Snow. yonder's my Antagonist; a haunts me like a ghost, 'cause I used to make him the prologue to be merry, he forsooth conceits 'tis love sir reverence, why Ursula, Niece Ursula? That's my uncle's call, if I stay a little, he'll fetch me in, which if he does, I may perchance harp upon a conceit to beat this parboiled gentleman's love out of my mealy miller's coat. You dainty Dames so finely decked In beauties to behold, And you that trip it up, and down Like Lambs in Cupid's fouled, Not far from Nottingham of late, In Clifton, as I hear There dwelled a fair, and comely dame, For beauty without peer. How now Master Miles, singing! I Mistress Ursula, a very merry lamentable doleful new Ditty of young Bateman, and his Nan; that ever poor young gentleman should die like a bird on a Tree, for the love to a woman— for here it is in the third staff. Her Hair was like the crisped Gold Of't times you may perceive, The fairest face, the falsest heart, And soonest will deceive. Mistress Ursula I give you this as a caution to remember Bateman, and his sweet, your cousin, look on me, and view yourself were it not pity I should hang myself for love; and that you should die none knows how? Why Ursula, Niece Ursula. Alas! what shall we do? if my uncle comes, he'll take thee for a Ghost, his brain is so fraught with distempers, and then falls he raging mad, Will he not strike? Why Ursula, Niece Ursula: Sometimes he will, so after your fit is over, I'll prescribe a remedy against love. Passion on passion! am I grown old, and odious in your eyes? what no attendance Mistress! Oh Lo-oooord sir; What ails thee woman, what's the matter? ha! why dost thou quake, shake, tremble, and shiver? ha! Oh there, there, there! Be'st thou the devil, I will talk with thee; Ha, ha, no fool to th'old one, he takes me for a Ghost; Art thou of air, of earth, heaven or hell, Or art thou of some Incubuses breed? Is there more walking Batemans? answer me, Or I will beat thy carcase into a form That is full substantial, and has feeling, Seeing, hearing, smelling, and sweet-tasting, Ghost, I'll thunder thee; Oh, ho, Master Boot, Master Boot. I; can the devil feel or, is he sensible of beating? What art thou! hast thou feeling? ay, and hearing, and seeing too; and you'll let me alone i'll tell you what I am; Ghost, i'll confine thee; 'Las sir I'm no Ghost, I am plain honest Miles the Miller of Ruddington; a gentleman, and a Soldier,
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)
And I a thund'ring St. George as ever rode on horsebacke, but see younders sweete Vrsula, more white then soote, and blacker then white Snow. Younder's my Antagonist; a haunts me like a ghost, 'cause I us'd to make him the prologue to be merry, he forsooth conceits 'tis love sir reverence, why Vrsula, Neece Vrsula? That's my uncle's call, if I staya litle, he'le fetch me in, which if he does, I may perchance harpe upon a conceit to beate this parboil'd gentlemans love out of my mealy Millers coate. You dainty Dames so finely dek'd In beauties to behold, And you that trip it up, and downe Like Lambes in Cupid's fould, Not farre from Nottingham of late, In Clifton, as I heare There dwelt a faire, and comely dame, For beauty without peere. How now Master Miles, singing! I Mistris Vrsula, a very mery lamentable dolefull new Ditty of young Bateman, and his Nan; that ever poore young gentleman should die like a bird on a Tree, for the love to a woman—for here it is in the third staff. Her Haire was like the crisped Gold Of't times you may perceive, The fairest face, the falsest heart, And soonest will deceive. Mistris Vrsula I give you this as a caution to remember Bateman, and his sweet, your cozen, looke on me, and veiw your selfe were it not pitty I should hang my selfe for love; and that you should die none knowes how? Why Vrsula, Neece Vrsula. Alas! what shall we doe? if my uncle comes, hee'le take thee for a Ghost, his braine is so fraught with distempers, and then falls he raging madd, Will he not strike? Why Vrsula, Neece Vrsula: Sometimes hee will, so after your fit is over, I'le prescribe a remedy against love. Passion▪ on passion! am I growne old, and odious in your eies? what no attendance Mistris! Oh Lo-oooord sir; What ailes thee woman, what's the matter? ha! why doo'st thou quake, shake, tremble, and shiver? ha! Oh there, there, there! Bee'st thou the devill, I will talke with thee; Ha, ha, no foole to th'old one, he takes me for a Ghost; Art thou of aire, of earth, heaven or hell, Or art thou of some Incubusses breede? Is there more walking Batemans? answer me, Or I will beate thy carcas into a forme That is full substantiall, and has feeling, Seeing, hearing, smelling, and sweete-tasting, Ghost, I'le thunder thee; Oh, ho, Master Boote, Master Boote. I; can the devill feeleor, is he sensible of beating? What art thou! hast thou feeling? I, and hearing, and seeing too; and you'l let me alone i'le tell you what I am; Ghost, i'le confine thee; 'Las sir I'me no Ghost, I am plaine honest Miles the Miller of Ruddington; a gentleman▪ and a Souldier,