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 T8 Captains, gallants and cheats · 485 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T8: captain, master, money, gentleman, little, lieutenant, rogue, pray, minos, honest.
The Lady laughed too, and the colonel Increased his noise, to see how she derided The poor Knights. Leave their Character and proceed To what you did. You shall pardon me my Lord, I am not willing to report myself, They and the Lady, and the colonel Can witness I came on. But how came you off cosin? that must commend you. I ha my limbs my Lord, no sign of loss Of blood you see, but this was fortune, how The colonel came off 't's uncertain. Do not you know? No, I left him, I think 'tis time. You did not kill him? Upon my faith my Lord I meant it not, But wounds fall out some time when the swords in, These are poor things to brag on, I ha' saved my Self you see. If it be so I'll call you cosin still, my satinist Hark you shall beat this fellow. Shall I my Lord without cause? He shall give you cause presently, how now Gummed taffeta. I pay for what I wear My satin Lord? your Wardrobe does not keep Me warm, I do not run o'th' ticket with The mercer's wife, and lecher out my debts At country houses. There's something else you do not. I do not use to flatter such as you are, Whose bodies are so rotten, they'll scarce keep Their souls from breaking out, I write no odes Upon your Mistress to commend her postures, And tumbling in a coach towards Paddington, Whether you hurry her to see the Pheasants, And try what operation the eggs have At your return, I am not taken with Your mighty nonsense, gleaned from Heathenish plays, Which leave a curse upon the Author for 'em, Though I have studied to redeem you from The infection of such books, which martyr sense Worse than an Almanac. Excellent Satire, But lash not on, stop here, or I shall kick Your learned worship. But do not, I advise you do not. Why do not? It will fall heavy o'some body, if your Lordship Kick me, I shall not spare your cosin there. On that condition what do you think of'at? What do you think? Excellently well followed by my troth la, he'll pitch the bar well, I warrant, he does So follow his kick. Let it go round. Good, right as my leg again. Your leg, 'twas he that kicked you. D'ee think I do not feel it? Why d'ee not use your toes then? What for a merry touch, A trick, a turn upon the toe, d'ee hear sir youare good company, but if thou lovest me. Love you? why d'ee hear sir, ay, ay, What a pox should any man see in you, Once to think on you? love a squirt? Shall I tell thee what thou art good for? I. For nothing. Good again, my Lord observe him, for nothing.
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)
The Lady laugh'd too, and the Coronell Increas'd his noise, to see how she derided The poore Knights. Leave their Character and proceede To what you did. You shall pardon me my Lord, I am not willing to report my selfe, They and the Lady, and the Coronell Can witnesse I came on. But how came you off cosin? that must commend you. I ha my limbes my Lord, no signe of losse Of blood you see, but this was fortune, how The Coronell came oft's uncertaine. Doe not you know? No, I left him, I thinke tis time. You did not kill him? Vpon my faith my Lord I meant it not, But wounds fall out some time when the swords in, These are poore things to bragge on, I ha sav'd my Selfe you see. If it be so Ile call you cosin still, my satinist Harke you shall beate this fellow. Shall I my Lord without cause? He shall give you cause presently, how now Gum'd taffata. I pay for what I weare My sattaine Lord? your Wardrobe does not keepe Me warme, I doe not runne oth' ticket with The Mercers wife, and leacher out my debts At country houses. Theres something else you doe not. I doe not use to flatter such as you are, Whose bodies are so rotten, theyle scarce keepe Their soules from breaking out, I write no odes Vpon your Mistresse to commend her postures, And tumbling in a coach towards Padington, Whether you hurry her to see the Phesants, And try what operation the egges have At your returne, I am not taken with Your mightie nonsence, glean'd from Heathenish playes, Which leave a curse upon the Author for 'em, Though I have studied to redeeme you from The infection of such bookes, which martyr sence Worse than an Almanacke. Excellent Satire, But lash not on, stop here, or I shall kicke Your learned worship. But doe not, I advise you doe not. Why doe not? It will fall heavy o'some body, if your Lordship Kicke me, I shall not spare your cosin there. On that condition what doe you thinke o'that? What doe you thinke? Excellently well followed by my troth la, Heele pitch the barre well, I warrant, he does So follow his kicke. Let it goe round. Good, right as my legge againe. Your legge, twas hee that kickt you. Dee thinke I doe not feele it? Why dee not use your toes then? What for a merry touch, A tricke, a turne upon the toe, dee heare sir Yare good company, but if thou lovest me. Love you? why dee heare sir, I, I, What a poxe should any man see in you, Once to thinke on you? love a squirte? Shall I tell thee what thou art good for? I. For nothing. Good againe, my Lord observe him, for nothing.