Ford, John · published 1638 · first performed or written 1638 (Annals) comedy · Queen Henrietta Maria's Men · Phoenix/Cockpit unassigned nearest T35 Fools, wit and railing · 522 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T35: fool, wit, aristippus, achilles, wise, fools, patroclus, thersites, master, men.
Tumble and wallow in abundance. The pure crystal puddle of pleasures. That all the world should wonder. A pox on them that envy ye. How do the beauties (my dainty knave) live, wish, think, and dream, sirrah ha. Fumble one with another, on the gambos of imagination between their legs, eat they do, and sleep, game, laugh, and lie down, as beauties ought to do, there's all. Commend me to my choicest, and tell her, the minute of her appointment shall be waited on, say to her, she shall find me a man at all points. Why, there's another quarrel, man, once more in spite of my nose. Away Secco away, my Lord calls, a' has a loose hair started from his fellows, a clip of your art is commanded. I fly Nitido, Spadone remember me. Trudging between an old moil, and a young Calf, my numble intelligencer, what, thou fatten'st apace on Capon still? Yes, crimpe, 'tis a gallant life to be an old Lords pimp whiskin, but beware of the porters lodge, for carrying tales out of the school. What a terrible sight to a libed breech is a sow gelder? Not so terrible as a cross tree that never grows, to a wag-halter-Page. Good! witty rascal, thouart a Satire I protest, but that the nymphs need not fear the evidence of thy mortality, go put on a clean bib, and spin amongst the Nuns, sing'em a bawdy song, all the children thou get'st, shall be christened in wassail bowls, and turned into a college of men Midwives, farewell nightmare. Very, very well, if I die in thy debt for this crackrope) let me be buried in a coal-sack, I'll fit ye, (apes face) look for't. And still the Urchin would, but could not do. Mark the end on't, and laugh at last. Tell me you cannot love me, You importune Too strict a resolution, as a gentleman Of commendable parts, and fair deserts, In every sweet condition that becomes A hopeful expectation, I do honour Th'example of your youth, but Sir our fortunes Concluded on both sides in narrow bands, Move you to construe gently my forbearance, In argument of fit consideration. Why Castamela, I have shaped thy virtues (Even from our childish years) into a dowry Of richer estimation, than thy portion, Doubled an hundred times, can equal: now I clearly find, thy current of affection Labours to fall into the guilt of riot, Not the free ocean of a soft content. You'd marry pomp and plenty, 'tis the Idol (I must confess) that creatures of the time, Bend their devotions to, But I have fashioned Thoughts much more excellent of you. Enjoy your own prosperity, I am resolved, Never by any charge with me, to force A poverty upon ye, want of love. 'Tis rarely cherished with the love of want. I'll not be your undoing. Sure some dotage Of living stately, richly, lend a cunning To Eloquence. How is this piece of goodness Changed to ambition? oh you are most miserable In your desires, the female curse has caught ye. Fie, fie, how ill this suits.
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)
Tumble and wallow in aboundance. The pure christall puddle of pleasures. That all the world should wonder. A pox on them that envy yee. How doe the beauties (my dainty knave) live, wish, thinke, and dreame, sirrah ha. Fumble one with an other, on the gambos of imagination betweene their legs, eate they doe, and sleepe, game, laugh, and lye downe, as beauties ought to doe, there's all. Commend me to my choisest, and tell her, the minute of her appointment shall be waited on, say to her, she shall find me a man at all points. Why, there's another quarrell, man, once more in spight of my nose. Away Secco away, my Lord cals, a' ha's a loose haire started from his fellowes, a clip of your art is commanded. I fly Nitido, Spadone remember me. Trudging betweene an old moyle, and a young Calfe, my numble intelligeneer, what, thou fatten'st apace on Capon still? Yes, crimpe, 'tis a gallant life to bee an old Lords pimpe whiskin, but beware of the porters lodge, for carrying tales out of the schoole. What a terrible sight to a lib'd breech is a sow gelder? Not so terrible as a crosse tree that never growes, to a wag-halter-Page. Good! witty rascall, th'art a Satire I protest, but that the Nimphs need not feare the evidence of thy mortality, goe put on a cleane bib, and spinne amongst the Nuns, sing'em a bawdy song, all the children thou ge'tst, shall bee christened in wassaile bowles, and turn'd into a college of men Midwives, farewell night-mare. Very, very well, if I dye in thy debt for this crackrope) let me be buried in a cole-sacke, I'le fit yee, (apes face) looke for't. And still the Vrchin would, but could not doe. Marke the end on't, and laugh at last. Tell me you cannot love me, You importune Too strict a resolution, as a gentleman Of commendable parts, and faire deserts, In every sweet condition that becomes A hopefull expectation, I doe honour Th'example of your youth, but Sir our fortunes Concluded on both sides in narrow bands, Move you to conster gently my forbearance, In argument of fit consideration. Why Castamela, I have shapt thy vertues (Even from our childish yeeres) into a dowry Of richer estimation, then thy portion, Doubled an hundred times, can equall: now I cleerely find, thy current of affection Labours to fall into the guilt of riot, Not the free ocean of a soft content. You'd marry pompe and plenty, 'tis the Idoll (I must confesse) that creatures of the time, Bend their devotions to, But I have fashion'd Thoughts much more excellent of you. Enjoy your own prosperity, I am resolv'd, Never by any charge with me, to force A poverty upon yee, want of love. 'Tis rarely cherish'd with the love of want. Ile not be your undoing. Sure some dotage Of living stately, richly, lend a cunning To Eloquence. How is this piece of goodnesse Chang'd to ambition? oh you are most miserable In your desires, the female curse ha's caught yee. Fie, fie, how il this suits.