Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T49: mistress, gentleman, love, lady, woman, pray, gentlewoman, hear, honest, way.
But I hope you will not bob me. No I'll warrant thee: what art thou? Girl or Boy? Both, and neither; I was a Lad last night, but in the morning I was conjured into a Lass: And being a Girl now, I shall be translated to a Boy anon. Here's all I can at this time say for myself: Farewell. Yes, and be hanged withal. O for some Gun powder to blow up this Witch, this She-male, this damned Sorceress! O I could tear her to fitters with my teeth! Yet I must be patient, and put up all, lest I be made a jeer to such as know me: fooled by a Boy! Go too, of all the rest, the Girl Luce must not know it. So, now am I the same man I was yesterday; who can say I was disguised? or who can distinguish my condition now? or read in my face, whether I be a married man, or a Bachelor? Who's that? Luce. Sweet Husband, is it you? The news? Never so frighted in my days. What's become of the Lord and the Lady? The Lord fled after you, the Lady stayed; who masked, and half unready, ran fast after her poor affrighted Husband: now all's quiet. This storm is then well passed, and now convey yourself home as privately as you can: and see you make this known to none but your Father. I am your Wife and Servant. This name of Luce hath been ominous to me; one Luce I should have married in the Country, and just the night before, a toy took me in the head, and mounting my Horse, I left Capons, Ducks, Geese, Poultry, wild-fowl, Father, and Bride and all, and posted up to London, where I have ever since continued Bachelor, till now. And now— Nay on, I Prithee fellow on, my Father will wonder where I have been visiting. Now, what had I forgot? Taber, there's money, go to the Goldsmiths, bid him send me my Fan; and make a quick return: on, fellow on. Her Fan at the Goldsmiths! now had I forgot to ask her his name, or his sign: but I will after to know. Sirrah, go call me back that Servingman, And ask him what's the Gentlewoman's name. I shall; ho, you: Friend, you. Who's that calls? 'Twas I. Your business? you should be one, though not of my cognisance, yet of my condition: a Serving-creature, as I take it: pray what's your will with me? Pray Sir, what might I call that Gentlewoman, on whom you were attendant? You may call her what you please, but if you call her otherwise than in the way of honesty, you may perchance hear on't. Nay, be not offended: I say, what do you call her? Why Sir, I call her as it shall best please me, sometimes young Lady, sometimes young Mistress; and what hath any man to do with that?
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)
But I hope you will not bobb me. No I'se vvarrant thee: vvhat art thou? Girle or Boy? Both, and neither; I vvas a Ladd last night, but in the morning I vvas conjured into a Lasse: And being a Girle novv, I shall be translated to a Boy anon. Her's all I can at this time say for my selfe: Farevvell. Yes, and be hang'd vvithall. O for some Gun powder to blovv up this Witch, this , this damn'd ! O I could teare her to fitters vvith my teeth! Yet I must be patient, and put up all, lest I bee made a jeere to such as knovv mee: fool'd by a Boy! Goe too, of all the rest, the Girle Luce must not knovv it. So, now am I the same man I was yesterday; who can say I was disguis'd? or who can distinguish my condition now? or reade in my face, whether I be a married man, or a Batchelor? Who's that? Luce. Sweet Husband, is it you? The newes? Never so frighted in my dayes. What's become of the Lord and the Lady? The Lord fled after you, the Lady staid; who maskt, and halfe unready, ran fast after her poore affrighted Husband: now all's quiet. This storme is then well past, and now conveigh your selfe home as privately as you can: and see you make this knowne to none but your Father. I am your Wife and Servant. This name of Luce hath beene ominous to mee; one I should have married in the Countrey, and just the night before, a toy tooke me in the head, and mounting my Hse, I left Capons, Ducks, Geese, Poultry, Wildfowle, Father, and Bride and all, and posted up to London, where I have ever since continued Batchelor, till▪ now. And now— Nay on, I Pretkee fellow on, my Father will wonder where I have beene visiting. Now, vvhat had I forgot? Taber, there's money, goe to the Gold-smiths, bid him send mee my Fanne; and make a quicke returne: on, fellow on. Her Fanne at the Gold-smiths! now had I forgot to aske her his name, or his signe: but I will after to know. Sirrah, goe call mee backe that Serving-man, And aske him vvhat's the Gentle-vvomans name. I shall; ho, you: Friend, you. Who's that calls? 'Twas I. Your businesse? you should be one, though not of my cognisance, yet of my condition: a Serving-creature, as I take it: pray vvhat's your vvill vvith mee? Pray Sir, what might I call that Gentlevvoman, on vvhom you were attendant? You may call her vvhat you please, but if you call her otherwise then in the vvay of honestie, you may perchance heare on't. Nay, be not offended: I say, vvhat do you call her? Why Sir, I call her as it shall best please mee, sometimes yong Lady, sometimes yong Mistris; and vvhat hath any man to doe with that?