Shirley, James · published 1637 · first performed or written 1633 [licensed for stage, Nov 11] (Annals) comedy · Queen Henrietta Maria's Men · Phoenix/Cockpit T46 Swords, quarrels and valour typicality 0.83 · 516 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T46: rapier, sword, fight, gentlemen, gentleman, kicked, kill, dagger, signor, valour.
I am sorry for poor Beamont. It would be long ere any mistress would Be so desperate for her servant, this is valour, High and mighty valour. Men must preserve Their honour's man, thou dost not know their quarrel? Thou art held a piece of a kill-Cow too, look to't before the sessions take an order w'ee: is't not a great deal safer, now to skirmish with a Petticoat, and touse a handsome wench in private; then be valiant in the streets, and kiss the Gallows for't? hang, hang this foolery, let gentlemen rather live, and pay their Tailors, then let their clothes enrich the hangman's wardrobe. But skirmishing as you call it, with the Petticoat, Is by some, held away to this preferment, Your wench's ha' been sticklers, and some men Dropped in their quarrel. Let them be such coxcombs They cannot die too soon; cannot I have A Lady of pleasure, but to please her humour, I must be engaged to fight and kill men for her? Because her healths refused, another's nose Or teeth preferred, substantial grounds for murder, We spend our blood too much another way; Consumption take me, if I fight for one on'em, I will drink single beer first, and live honest, Gentlemen are come to a fine pass, do not you Think but 'tis possible, I may fight for all this? There may be causes, that have women in'em, But I confess, no polecats, or lewd strumpets, Though I do use the trick o'th' flesh, shall drive Me to the Surgeon; I had a mother. And I have a wife, would thou hadst her. No, No, she is well as she is, There may be honour to defend these. Sometimes. But there's a mischief greater than all these A base and sordid provocation, Used among gentlemen, they cannot quarrel About a glass of Wine, but our files streigth Son of a whore, dead mothers must be torn, Out of their graves, or living, have their names Poisoned by a prodigious breath: it were A brave and noble Law, to make this tongue Be cut for't, it would save much blood i'th' year, That might be spent more honourably. The lie grew a dull provocation, this has quickened us, but leave this common place, thou canst not help it, let's talk of something else. Stay is not this Beaumont? Apprehended, alas poor gentleman; how now Ned? As you see gentlemen, called to my account. We heard a piece of the misfortune, but Be not dejected, he may live. I fear it. Pray lead me where you please, alas. Violante! this news will wound thee too. I'll with him, and know the story. 'twill but trouble me I can do him no service, beside that, I am engaged to meet old Master Barnacle. Whither, whither Gentlemen, with your swords drawn? Dost not see a gentleman led to Prison? we'll rescue him from the Officers, come join with us: We shall draw more to the cause. You do not mean this rashness: hide your swords be advised better; D''ee know his fact?
nodes 191–248 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 4 of 39 in this edition
Length
516 words · 706 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T46 — Swords, quarrels and valourcross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.828 (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 am sorry for poore Beamont. It would be long ere any mistresse would Be so desperate for her servant, this is valur, High and mighty valor. Men must preserve Their honors man, thou dost not know their quarrell? Thou art held a peece of a kill-Cow too, looke too't before the sessions take an order w'ee: ist not a great deale safer, now to skermish with a Peticote, and touze a handsome wench in private; then be valiant in the streets, and kisse the Gallowes for't? hang, hang this foolerie, let gentlemen rather live, and pay their Tailors, then let their clothes enrich the hangmans wardrobe. But skermishing as you call it, with the Peticote, Is by some, held away to this preferment, Your wenches beene sticklers, and some men Dropt in their quarrell. Let them be such coxcombs They cannot die too soone; cannot I have A Lady of pleasure, but to please her humour, I must be engag'd to fight and kill men for her? Because her healths refus'd, anothers nose Or teeth preferrd, substantiall grounds for murder, We spend our blood too much another way; Consumption take me, if I fight for one on'em, I will drinke single beere first, and live honest, Gentlemen are come to a fine passe, doe not you Thinke but tis possible, I may fight for all this? There may be causes, that have women in'em, But I confesse, no polecats, or Iewd strumpets, Though I doe use the tricke o'th flesh, shall drive Me to the Surgeon; I had a mother. And I have a wife, would thou had'st her. No, No, she is well as shee is, There may be honor to defend these. Sometimes. But ther's a mischiefe greater then all these A base and sorded provocation, Us'd among gentlemen, they cannot quarrell About a glasse of Wine, but our files streigth Sonne of a whore, dead mothers must be torne, Out of their graves, or living, have their names Poysoned by a prodigious breath: it were A brave and noble Law, to make this tongue Be cut for't, it wod save much blood ith yeere, That might be spent more honorablie. The lie grew a dull provocation, this has quickn'd us, but leave this common place, thou canst not helpe it, letts talke of something else. Stay is not this Beaumont? Apprehended, alas poore gentleman; how now Ned? As you see gentlemen, cald to my account. We heard a peece of the misfortune, but Be not dejected, he may live. I feare it. Pray lead me where you please, alas. Violante! this newes will wound thee too. I'le with him, and know the story. Twill but trouble me I can doe him no service, beside that, I am engag'd to meete old Master Barnacle. Whither, whither Gentlemen, with your swords drawne? Doest not see a gentleman led to Prison? Wee'le reskue him from the Offcers, come joyne with us: We shall draw more to the cause. You doe not meane this rashnes: hide your swords be advis'd better; D'ee know his fact?