Fletcher, John / Massinger, Philip · published 1637 · first performed or written 1625(?) (Annals) comedy · King's Men · Blackfriars T46 Swords, quarrels and valour typicality 0.90 · 502 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T46: rapier, sword, fight, gentlemen, gentleman, kicked, kill, dagger, signor, valour.
I must entreat her, she's parcel of my goods. she's all when you have her. Hold off your hands, unmannerly, rude Sir; Nor I, nor what I have depend on you. Do, let her alone, she gives good counsel; do not Trouble yourself with Ladies, they are too light; Let out your land, and get a provident Steward. I cannot love ye, let that satisfy you; Such vanities as you are to be laughed at. Nay, then you must go, I must claim mine own. Away, away with her. Let her alone, Pray let her alone, and take your coxcomb up: Let me talk civilly a while with you brother, It may be on some terms I may part with her. O, is your heart come down? what are your terms, Sir? Put up, put up. This is the first and chiefest, Let's walk a turn; now stand off fools, I advise ye, Stand as far off as you would hope for mercy: This is the first sword yet I ever handled, And a sword's a beauteous thing to look upon, And if it hold, I shall so hunt your insolence: 'tis sharp I'm sure, and if I put it home, 'tis ten to one I shall new pink your Satins: I find I have spirit enough to dispose of it, And will enough to make ye all examples; Let me toss it round, I have the full command on't: Fetch me a native Fencer, I defy him; I feel the fire of ten strong spirits in me. Do you watch me when my Uncle is absent? This is my grief, I shall be fleshed on Cowards; Teach me to fight, I willing am to learn. Are ye all gilded Flies, nothing but show in ye? Why stand ye gaping? who now touches her? Who calls her his, or who dares name her to me? But name her as his own, who dares look on her? That shall be mortal too; but think, 'tis dangerous. Art thou a fit man to inherit land, And hast no wit nor spirit to maintain it? Stand still thou sign of man, and pray for thy friends, Pray heartily, good prayers may restore ye. But do not kill 'em Sir. You speak too late, dear, It is my first fight, and I must do bravely, I must not look with partial eyes on any; I cannot spare a button of these Gentlemen; Did life lie in their heel Achilles like, I'd shoot my anger at those parts and kill 'em. Who waits within? Sir. View all these, view 'em well, Go round about 'em and still view their faces, Round about yet, See how death waits upon 'em, For thou shalt never view 'em more. Pray hold, Sir. I cannot hold you stand so fair before me, I must not hold 't will darken all my glories. Go to my Uncle, bid him post to the King, And get my pardon instantly, I have need on't.
nodes 1795–1855 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 28 of 39 in this edition
Length
502 words · 653 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T46 — Swords, quarrels and valourcross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.902 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
seed 43: T42 · seed 44: T42 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
I must entreat her, Shee's parcell of my goods. Shee's all when you have her. Hold off your hands, unmannerly, rude Sir; Nor I, nor what I have depend on you. Doe, let her alone, she gives good counsell; doe not Trouble your selfe with Ladies, they are too light; Let out your land, and get a provident Steward. I cannot love ye, let that satisfie you; Such vanities as you are to be laught at. Nay, then you must goe, I must claime mine owne. Away, away with her. Let her alone, Pray let her alone, and take your coxeombe up: Let me talke civilly a while with you brother, It may be on some tearmes I may part with her. O, is your heart come downe? what are your tearmes, Sir? Put up, put up. This is the first and chiefest, Let's walke a turne; now stand off fooles, I advise ye, Stand as farre off as you would hope for mercy: This is the first sword yet I ever handled, And a sword's a beauteous thing to looke upon, And if it hold, I shall so hunt your insolence: Tis sharpe I' me sure, and if I put it home, Tis ten to one I shall new pinke your Sattins: I finde I have spirit enough to dispose of it, And will enough to make ye all examples; Let me tosse it round, I have the full command on't: Fetch me a native Fencer, I defie him; I feele the fire of ten strong spirits in me. Doe you watch me when my Uncle is absent? This is my griefe, I shall be flesht on Cowards; Teach me to fight, I willing am to learne. Are ye all gilded Flies, nothing but shew in ye? Why stand ye gaping? who now touches her? Who calles her his, or who dares name her to me? But name her as his owne, who dares looke on her? That shall be mortall too; but thinke, 'tis dangerous. Art thou a fit man to inherit land, And hast no wit nor spirit to maintaine it? Stand still thou signe of man, and pray for thy friends, Pray heartily, good prayers may restore ye. But doe not kill 'em Sir. You speake too late, Deare, It is my first fight, and I must doe bravely, I must not looke with partiall eyes on any; I cannot spare a button of these Gentlemen; Did life lye in their heele Achilles like, Ide shoot my anger at those parts and kill 'em. Who waits within? Sir. View all these, view 'em well, Goe round about 'em and still view their faces, Round about yet, See how death waites upon 'em, For thou shalt never view 'em more. Pray hold, Sir. I cannot hold you stand so faire before me, I must not hold 't will darken all my glories. Goe to my Uncle, bid him poste to the King, And get my pardon instantly, I have need on't.