Shirley, James · published 1639 · first performed or written 1632 [licensed for stage, Nov 16] (Annals) comedy · Queen Henrietta Maria's Men · Phoenix/Cockpit unassigned nearest T41 Household service: masters, doors and po · 498 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T41: master, house, door, iohn, old, mistress, basket, lord, gentleman, ick.
A pox upon your legs, i'll no more. Purquoy. Ha ha ha, I would some Ladies were here to laugh At thee now, you won't be so rude to meddle with The monsieur in my lodging. I'll kick him to death, and bury him in a bass-viol jackalent. jackalent, begar you be Jackanapes, if I had my weapon You durst no affront me, I be as good gentleman, an for All my fiddle as you, call me a jack a de lent. Rail upon him monsieur, I'll secure thee, ha ha ha. Because your leg have de poc, or something dat make 'em no vell, and frisk, you make a fool of a monsieur. My Lord use me like Gentleman, an I care no rush for You, be desperate, kill me, and me complain to de King, and teach new dance, galliard to de gibbet, you Be hanged in English fashion. Go, yar'e an impertinent Lord, and I will be revenged Ha, ha, good Diogenes, come monsieur, You and I won't part yet. My Lord, if you had not been here, me would have Broken his head with my fiddle. You might sooner have broke your fiddle, but strike up. Allei hah boon. I spy Sir Marmaduke coming after me, This way I'll take to avoid his tedious questions, he'll interrupt me, and I ha' not finished Things fit for my design. 'tis Mr Bostocke, little does he think What I am going upon, I fear I sha'not Contain my joys. Good fortune to Sr. Ambrose. Sir you must pardon, I cannot wait Upon you now, I ha' business of much consequence. I thought to have made the same excuse to you, For at this present I am so engaged. We shall meet shortly. Ha ha ha. Poor Gentleman how is he beguiled. Your nose is wiped, hum, 'tis Sr. Marmaduke, I must salute him. The colonel? there's no going back. What misfortune's this? but 'tis no matter, Noble sir how is't? As you see sir. As I could wish noble Mr. Bostocke, Your humble servant colonel. Nay nay a word. I sha'not forbear jeering these poor things, They shall be mirth. What all met so happily? and how my Sparks of honour? Things so tickle me, I shall break out. When saw, you our Mistress Lady Lucina. My suit is cold there, Mr. Bostocke carries The Lady clean before him. No no not, it is Sr. Marmaduke. I glean by smiles after Sr. Ambrose. None of you see her today? I may as soon marry the Moon, and get Children on her, I see her not this three days, 'tis very strange, I was to present my service This morning. You'll march away with all. I cannot tell, but there's small sign of victory, And yet methinks you should not be neglected, If the Fens go forward, and your Iron Mills. Has she betrayed me? Some are industrious, And have the excellent skill to cast brass buttons.
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)
A poxe upon your legges, ile no more. Purquoy. Ha ha ha, I wod some Ladies were here to laugh At thee now, you wonot▪ be so rude to meddle with The Mounsieur in my lodging. Ile kicke him to death, and bury him in a Base-violl Iackalent. Iackalent, begar you be Iackenape, if I had my weapon You durst no affront me, I be as good gentleman, an for All my fiddle as you, call me a Iacke a de lent. Raile upon him Mounsieur, Ile secure thee, ha ha ha. Because your leg have de poc, or someting dat make Em no vell, and friske, you make a foole of a Mounsieur. My Lord use me like Gentleman, an I care no rush for You, be desperate, kill me, and me complaine to de King, and teach new dance, galliarde to de gibbet, you Be hang'd in English fashion. Goe, yar'e an impertinent Lord, and I will be reveng'd Ha, ha, good Diogenes, come Mounsieur, You and I wonot part yet. My Lord, if you had not beene here, me wod hav Broken his head with my fiddle. You might sooner have broke your fiddle, but strike up. Allei hah boone. I spie Sir Marmaduke comming after me, This way Ile take to avoide his tedious questions, Heele interrupt me, and I ha not finish'd Things fit for my designe. Tis Mr Bostocke, little does he thinke What I am going upon, I feare I shanot Containe my joyes. Good fortune to Sr. Ambrose. Sir you must pardon, I cannot waite Vpon you now, I ha businesse of much consequence. I thought to have made the same excuse to you, For at this present I am so engag'd. We shall meete shortly. Ha ha ha. Poore Gentleman how is he beguil'd. Your nose is wip'd, hum, tis Sr. Marmaduke, I must salute him. The Coronell? theres no going backe. What misfortun's this? but tis no matter, Noble sir how ist? As you see sir. As I could wish noble Mr. Bostocke, Your humble servant Coronell. Nay nay a word. I shannot forbeare jeering these poore things, They shall be mirth. What all met so happily? and how my Sparkes of honour? Things so ticle me, I shall breake out. When saw, you our Mistresse Lady Lucina. My suite is cold there, Mr. Bostocke carries The Lady cleane before him. No no not, it is Sr. Marmaduke. I gleane by smiles after Sr. Ambrose. None of you see her to day? I may as soone marry the Moone, and get Children on her, I see her not this three dayes, Tis very strange, I was to present my service This morning. Youle march away with all. I cannot tell, but theres small signe of victory, And yet me thinkes you should not be neglected, If the Fennes goe forward, and your Iron Mills. Has she betraid me? Some are industrious, And have the excellent skill to cast brasse buttons.