Fletcher, John / Massinger, Philip · published 1637 · first performed or written 1625(?) (Annals) comedy · King's Men · Blackfriars unassigned nearest T41 Household service: masters, doors and po · 493 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T41: master, house, door, iohn, old, mistress, basket, lord, gentleman, ick.
Are you so unnatural? You shall die last Sir, I'll talk thee dead, thou art no man to fight with. Come, will ye come? methinks I've fought whole battles. We have no quarrel to you, that we know on, Sir. we'll quit the house and ask ye mercy too: Good Lady, let no murder be done here; We came but to parley. How my sword Thirsts after them? stand away Sweet. Pray Sir, Take my submission, and I disclaim for ever. Away ye poor things, ye despicable Creatures! Do you come post to fetch a Lady from me, From a poor Schoolboy that ye scorned of late? And grow lame in your hearts when you should execute? Pray take her, take her, I am weary of her; What did ye bring to carry her; A Coach and four horses. But are they good? As good as France can show Sir. Are you willing to leave those, and take your safeties? Speak quickly. Yes with all our hearts. 'tis done them Many have got one horse, I've got four by th' bargain. How now, who's here? Nay now, y'are gone without bail. What, drawn my friends? Fetch me my two-hand sword; I will not leave a head on your shoulders, Wretches. In truth Sir, I came but to do my duty. And we to renew our loves. Bring me a blanket. What came they for? To borrow me a while, Sir; But one that never fought yet has so curried, So bastinadoed them with manly carriage, They stand like things Gorgon had turned to stone: They watched your being absent, and then thought They might do wonders here, and they have done so; For by my troth, I wonder at their coldness, The nipping North or frosts never came near them, St. George upon a Sign would grow more sensible: If the name of honour were for ever to be lost, These were the most sufficient men to do it In all the world, and yet they are but young, What will they rise to? They're as full of fire As a frozen Glowworms tails, and shine as goodly; Nobility and patience are matched rarely In these three Gentlemen, they have right use on't; They'll stand still for an hour and be beaten. These are the anagrams of three great Worthies. They will infect my house with cowardice, If they breathe longer in it; my roof covers No baffled Monsieurs, walk and air yourselves; As I live, they stay not here, white livered wretches! Without one word to ask a reason why, Vanish, 'tis the last warning, and with speed, For if I take ye in hand I shall dissect you, And read upon your phlegmatic dull carcases. My horse again there: I have other business, Which you shall hear hereafter and laugh at it. Good night Charles, fair goodness to you dear Lady. 'tis late, 'tis late. Pray Sir be careful of us.
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)
Are you so unnaturall? You shall dye last Sir, Ile talke thee dead, thou art no man to fight with. Come, will ye come? me thinkes I've fought whole battailes. We have no quarrell to you, that we know on, Sir. Wee'll quit the house and aske ye mercy too: Good Lady, let no murther be done here; We came but to parly. How my sword Thirsts after them? stand away Sweet. Pray Sir, Take my submission, and I disclaime for ever. Away ye poore things, ye despicable Creatures! Doe you come poste to fetch a Lady from me, From a poore Schoole-boy that ye scorn'd of late? And grow lame in your hearts when you should execute? Pray take her, take her, I am weary of her; What did ye bring to carry her; A Coach and foure horses. But are they good? As good as France can shew Sir. Are you willing to leave those, and take your safeties? Speake quickly. Yes with all our hearts. Tis done them Many have got one horse, I've got foure by th' bargaine. How now, who's here? Nay now, y'are gone without baile. What, drawne my friends? Fetch me my two-hand sword; I will not leave a head on your shoulders, Wretches. In truth Sir, I came but to doe my duty. And we to renew our loves. Bring me a blanket. What came they for? To borrow me a while, Sir; But one that never fought yet has so curried, So bastinado'd them with manly carriage, They stand like things Gorgon had turn'd to stone: They watch'd your being absent, and then thought They might doe wonders here, and they have done so; For by my troth, I wonder at their coldnesse, The nipping North or frosts never came neere them, St.George upon a Signe would grow more sensible: If the name of honour were for ever to be lost, These were the most sufficient men to doe it In all the world, and yet they are but young, What wil they rise to? They're as full of fire As a frozen Glo-wormes tailes, and shine as goodly; Nobility and patience are match'd rarely In these three Gentlemen, they have right use on't; They'll stand still for an houre and be beaten. These are the Anagrammes of three great Worthies. They will infect my house with cowardize, If they breathe longer in it; my roofe covers No baffl'd Monsieurs, walke and aire your selves; As I live, they stay not here, white liver'd wretches! Without one word to aske a reason why, Vanish, 'tis the last warning, and with speed, For if I take ye in hand I shall diffect you, And reade upon your flegmaticke dull carcases. My horse againe there: I have other businesse, Which you shall heare hereafter and laugh at it. Good night Charles, faire goodnesse to you deare Lady. Tis late, 'tis late. Pray Sir be carefull of us.