Shirley, James · published 1637 · first performed or written 1634 [licensed for stage, Jun 24] (Annals) comedy · Queen Henrietta Maria's Men · Phoenix/Cockpit unassigned nearest T27 Uncles, nephews and cousins: kinship and · 467 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T27: uncle, niece, nephew, gentlemen, faith, cousin, wife, house, gentleman, money.
I know not where my Lord is, but there's one a-bed. A Bed, expecting her, where? But he's asleep, you'll wake him. Show me villain quickly. Oh, this way, sir. Has misery a name beyond my suffering? Hath love, and fortune both conspired to drop Their stings into my bosom? Help Dormant. A plot, a plot to murder me, hold, what art? My Nephew; ha! 'Tis not he, Uncle you must Excuse my compliment, he shall not fly me. Who goes about to fly? he did not wound me, A naked man is soon undone, 'tis wisdom To sleep hereafter in a shirt of Mail, When came he hither, from the Netherlands? He is sent upon some murdering design; But why with his sword drawn, why not a knife? Some great man is in danger; ha! my Niece weeping, I'll sift her, Bellamia? Oh my husband, sir. Nay, than there is a plot, whom would he kill? The Lord Fitzavarice. I knew it was some great man must be visited Beneath the ribs, men of such vast estates Are not long lived. I know not what to do, sir, he's i'th' conspiracy, reveal the plot to me. My fellow Oldrat met him, sir. Ha, more traitors. I did suspect that fool's simplicity, What man is to be trusted? if these men Thrive in their first attempt, the state's in danger. This Oldrat is a politician. I'll stand upon my guard, entrench, and dare The Ghost of Tilly. 'Tis not very warm, sir. Your cold considerations are best. But I'll to bed again. They are here, oh! Away. Shall we be never free from plots? Has he been gone this hour sayst? Yes, and please your worship, Would I were well gone too. Yet will you hear me, sir. And trust the language of your tears? they're false, Your gamester shall weep blood: here we untwist Our hearts, set up o'th' trade, the youth will join. Thou mayest be still Bellamia, but not mine. All's paid, and ye are welcome gentlemen. So; so, this Tavern was well thought upon: In my opinion, 'tis a great deal better Than to have trusted your own passion In such a cause, which easily might engage you To danger, when your rage grew high, and loud. I have obeyed your counsel: you will carry this? I have promised you. And yet you must acknowledge The wrong is greater than to be contained Within this narrow leaf, and till I have Revenged, it swells each minute to a volume. My Lord is noble this way, and be confident, Will render you an account, worthy his person, Though I am sorry to salute him first, With a defiance. Shalt not for all the World Do thyself prejudice in his favour, I'll Disengage thee again.
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 know not where my Lord is, but ther's one a Bed. A Bed, expecting her, where? But hee's asleepe, you'le wake him. Shew mee villaine quicklie. Oh, this way, sir. Has miserie a name beyond my suffering? Hath love, and fortune both conspir'd to drop Their stings into my bosome? Helpe Dormant. A plott, a plott to murther me, hold, what art? My Nephew; ha! 'Tis not he, Uncle you must Excuse my complement, he shall not flie mee. Who goes about to flie? he did not wound mee, A naked man is soone undone, 'tis wisedome To sleepe hereafter in a shirt of Maile, When came he hither, from the nether-lands? Hee is sent upon some murdring designe; But why with his sword drawne, why not a knife? Some great man is in danger; ha! my Neece weeping, I'le sift her, Bellamia? Oh my husband, sir. Nay, then there is a plott, whom would he kill? The Lord Fitzavarice. I knew it was some great man mus be visited Beneath the ribbs, men of such vast estates Are not long lived. I know not what to do, sir, Hee's i'th conspiracy, reveale the plott to me. My fellow Oldrat mett him, sir. Ha, more traitors. I did suspect that fooles simplicity, What man is to be trusted? if these men Thrive in their first attempt, the stat's in danger. This Oldrat is a politician. I'le stand upon my guard, entrench, and dare The Ghost of Tilly. 'Tis not verie warme, sir. Your cold considerations are best. But I'le to bed agen. They are here, oh! Away. Shall wee bee never free from plotts? Has he beene gone this hower sayst? Yes, and please your worship, Would I were well gon too. Yet will you heare me, sir. And trust the language of your teares? they're false, Your gamester shall weepe blood: here we untwist Our harts, set up o'th trade, the youth will joyne. Thou maiest be still Bellamia, but not mine. All's paid, and yee are welcome gentlemen. So; so, this Taverne was well thought upon: In my opinion, 'tis a great deale better Then to have trusted your owne passion In such a cause, which easilie might engage you To danger, when your rage grew high, and loud. I have obey'd your counsell: you wil carry this? I have promis'd you. And yet you must acknowledge The wrong is greater then to bee contain'd Within this narrow leafe, and till I have Reveng'd, it swells each minute to a volume. My Lord is noble this way, and be confident, Will render you an account, worthie his person, Though I am sorry to salute him first, With a defiance. Sha't not for all the World Doe thy selfe preiudice in his favor, i'le Disengage thee agen.