Nabbes, Thomas · published 1638 · first performed or written 1633 (Annals) comedy · Queen Henrietta Maria's Men unassigned nearest T49 Wooing a mistress: suitors, go-betweens · 492 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T49: mistress, gentleman, love, lady, woman, pray, gentlewoman, hear, honest, way.
'Tis a bliss above the feigned Elysium To clasp a dainty waste; to kiss a lip Melts into Nectar; to behold an eye Shoot amorous fires, that would warm cold Statues Into a life and motion; play with hair Brighter than that was stellified. And when the wanton appetite is cloyed With thousand satisfactions of this kind, Then follow's th' absoluteness Of all delight. But were desire restrained From variation, soon 'twould satiate, And glut itself to loathing. Please you to drink a pint or two of wine? there may be provocation in it. Preserve your courtesy child, and your money: Lent's at hand, and then every street will afford boys recreation. Why how now impudence! do you flout a man? How, a man Cousin! I want not so much of my full age to be called a boy. But you must not fall out with the Gentlewoman. I desire rather to have fallen in with her. I would not have you so forward Cousin. You must be sure to deal with sound ware. What care I? 'tis but the loss of a man's hair; an excremental ornament: wit consists not in't. A man may cover his baldness with a periwig, and the fashion takes away the suspicion. I hope I came to London to learn wit and the fashion. Come Mr. Littleword. Adieu Mistress Tongall. I took her rather for a Wagtail. What silent Gentleman's that? His Character in his own language is ay and no; yet he speaks well in paper. He is a wit, but somewhat a dull one. What serious affair have they together? There are hidden policies in the world. Thou hast a bookish humour; I a wenching one; and why may not his dulness dream of some rich match! Mris. Tongal's the only matchmaker in the Town. Those words create a hell of torment in me. Is there no love But what's attended by vain jealousy! Art thou in love? Yes, passionately. My dreamings, wakings, thoughts and actions Are nothing but desire. I can as soon credit an impossibility. Thou in love! why 'tis more improbable than the projection of draining Marshland with a windmill. But prithee what is she? See where my comforts Sun Breaks through a cloud. Oh that this unkind distance Might be contracted into lesser air: I'd then convey my whispers to her ears; And teach her understanding what delight Society hath in it. Sure thou hast not boldness enough to speak to her. Thou wouldst blush, and fall into some pathetical book discourse, or tell her the story of Hero and Leander, to make her tenderness whine. 'tis not the way. Get access to her; and after one mannerly salute, double and treble thy kisses; tumble her a little, and if opportunity serve, offer the rest: Magic hath not a philtre like it. Is not that a house (Cousin) where the Wenches are? Yes, questionless. I mean in the sense of—
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)
'Tis a blisse above the faign'd Elysium To claspe a dainty waste; to kisse a lip Melts into Nectar; to behold an eye Shoot amorous fires, that would warme cold Statues Into a life and motion; play with hayre Brighter then that was stellifyed. And when the wanton appetite is cloy'd With thousand satisfactions of this kind, Then follow's th' absolutenesse Of all delight. But were desire restrain'd From variation, soone 'twould satiate, And glut it selfe to loathing. Please you to drinke a pint or two of wine? there may be provocation in it. Preserve your courtesie child, and your money: Lent's at hand, and then every street will afford boyes recreation. Why how now impudence! do you slout a man? How, a man Cousin! I want not so much of my full age to bee cal'd a boy. But you must not fall out with the Gentlewoman. I desire rather to have fal'n in with her. I would not have you so forward Cousin. You must be sure to deale with sound ware. What care I? 'tis but the losse of a mans hayre; an excrementall ornament: wit consists not in't. A man may cover his baldnesse with a periwig, and the fashion take's away the suspition. I hope I came to London to learne wit and the fashion. Come Mr. Little-word. Adiew Mistris Tongall. I tooke her rather for a Wag-taile. What silent Gentleman's that? His Character in his owne language is I and no; yet he speaks well in paper. He is a wit, but somewhat a dull one. What serious affaire have they together? There are hidden pollicies in the world. Thou hast a bookish humour; I a wenching one; and why may not his dulnes dreame of some rich match! Mris. Tongal's the onely match-maker in the Towne. Those words create a hell of torment in me. Is there no love But what's attended by vaine jealousie! Art thou in love? Yes, passionately. My dreamings, wakings, thoughts and actions Are nothing but desire. I can assoone credit an impossibility. Thou in love! why 'tis more improbable then the projection of draining Marsh-land with a wind-mill. But prethee what is shee? See where my comforts Sun Breaks through a clowd. Oh that this unkind distance Might be contracted into lesser ayre: I'de then convey my whispers to her eares; And teach her understanding what delight Society hath in it. Sure thou hast not boldnes enough to speake to her. Thou wouldst blush, and fall into some patheticall booke discourse, or tell her the story of Hero and Leander, to make her tendernesse whine. Tis not the way. Get accesse to her; and after one mannerly salute, double and treble thy kisses; tumble her a little, and if opportunity serve, offer the rest: Magick hath not a Philter like it. Is not that a house (Cousin) where the Wenches are? Yes, questionlesse. I meane in the sense of—