Shirley, James · published 1637 · first performed or written 1633 [licensed for stage, Nov 11] (Annals) comedy · Queen Henrietta Maria's Men · Phoenix/Cockpit unassigned nearest T58 Gallant talk and courtship: an Epicene-c · 514 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T58: jack, john, daw, dauphine, amorous, mistress, trve, ladies, wit, madame.
Well said, this may do good upon me, as I find you prompt in this, I may consider Other matters: to tell you true, I love Your kinswoman. How? I'th' way you wot on, but I find her cold and peevish, how she may Be brought about I know not, 'twould show well, And be a precedent for other wives, If you would put your help to't. Goodness bless me. One woman with another can do more In such a cause, than twenty men. I do not Wander, you see, out of the blood, this will Be a way to justify your obedience. You show a tyrant now, and stead of framing My soul to patience, murder both. I have gone too far a conscience; this may Spoil all, and now I think upon't, I was A coxcomb to discover any party, I must deny't again, and carry things More closely. How now Will? How now Will? 's that all? Look up, and ask me a question like a man, What melancholy? No, no; a toy, a trifle. That should be a woman, who is't thou art thinking on? I have been of your counsel. I was thinking, o' my Wife— I met her sad. I cannot blame her; We have had a dialogue; come, thou know'st my bosom, when dost mean to lie with her? I know not, but I have offered fair conditions: She is very confident, I do not dote Upon her beauty, I have told her, sirrah, I love her kinswoman. Y'are not so mad. The worlds deceived in her, she'll give me leave, To ramble where I list, and feed upon What best delights my appetite. He that has An ambition to be strangled in his sleep, May tell his wife he loves another woman. But I was not content with this, because The other wench was somewhat obstinate, I must needs urge my wife, to mollify And mould her, for my purpose. And she consented too? No 'twould not do. This went against her stomach and we parted. Next time you see her, look to be presented With your mistress's nose for this, dost think a woman Can be so patient, to know her rival I'th' same roof, and leave her eyes, to see thee Again? I am sorry for thee. I am confident She dare not: but for all that, would I had Been less particular. Come, I love thee well, But not thy wit, to carry things no handsomer: You must unravel again, and make your wife Believe you did but try her. How now, what's the news here? Quickly to a Surgeon, bear him gently. What's the business. Nothing, sir, but a gentleman is killed, and we are Carrying him to a Surgeon. 'tis Jack Delamore, he is not dead. Who hurt him? Master Beamont; we cannot stay, sir. Why they were friends. But wine made them fall out, some say, about Their Mistresses. I did expect a woman at one end on't. What miserable fools are men, to kill One another for these Cockatrices!
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)
Well said, this may doe good upon me▪ as I finde you prompt in this, I may consider Other matters: to tell you true, I love Your kinswoman. How? I'th way you wot on, but I finde her cold and peevish, how she maie Be brought about I know not, 'twould shew well, And be a president for other wives, If you would put your helpe too't. Goodnes blesse me. One woman with another can doe more In such a cause, then twentie men. I doe not Wander, you see, out of the blood, this will Be a way to justifie your obedience. You shew a tyrant now, and stead of framing My soule to patience, murder both. I have gone too farre a conscience; this may Spoile all, and now I thinke upon't, I was A coxcombe to discover any party, I must deny't againe, and carry things More closelie. How now Will? How now Will? 's that all? Looke up, and aske me a question like ā man, What melancholy? No, no; a toy, a trifle. That should be a woman, who'st thou art thinking on? I have beene of your counsell. I was thinking, o' my Wife— I met her sadd. I cannot blame her; We have had a dialogue; come, thou know'st my bosome, when do'st meane to lie with her? I know not, but I have offer'd faire conditions: Shee is very confident, I doe not dote Upon her beauty, I have told her, sirra, I love her kinswoman. Y'are not so mad. The worlds deceav'd in her, sheele give me leave, To ramble where I list, and feede upon What best delights my appetite. He that has An ambition to be strangled in his sleepe, May tell his wife he loves another▪ woman. But I was not content with this, because The other wench was somewhat obstinate, I must needs urge my wife, to mollifie And mold her, for my purpose. And she consented too? No 'twould not doe. This went against her stomacke and we parted. Next time you see her, looke to be presented With your mistresses nose for this, do'st thinke a woman Can be so patient, to know her rivall I'th same roofe, and leave her eyes, to see thee Agen? I am sorry for thee. I am confident Shee dare not: but for all that, would I had Beene lesse particular. Come, I love thee well, But not thy wit, to carry things no handsomer: You must unravell agen, and make your wife Beleeve you did but try her. How now, what's the newes here? Quickly to a Surgeon, beare him gently. What's the businesse. Nothing, sir, but a gentleman is kild, and we are Carrying him to a Surgeon. Tis Jacke Delamore, he is not dead. Who hurt him? Master Beamont; we cannot stay, sir. Why they were friends. But wine made them fall out, some say, about Their Mistresses. I did expect a woman at one end on't. What miserable fooles are men, to kill One another for these Cockatrices!