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.
Your Lordship's pardon, Mr. Bostocke. Now shall I be put to't, this taking will undo me? Prithee tell me? is the colonel alive still? Alive my Lord, yes yes, he's alive. Did your Lordship think absolutely he was dead? But he is shrewdly wounded. No my Lord, He is very well, but 'twas your kinsman's fortune. Prithee ne'er speak on't. What? To have a blow, a box o'th' ear. How? With his fist, and an indifferent round one. Yes, yes he did strike me, I could ha' told you that, But wherefore did he strike, ask 'em that. If you would know my Lord, he was our orator To rail upon the Lady for abusing us, Which I confess he did with lung and spirit, Which in the conclusion, the colonel Stroke him toth' ground. He did so 'tis a truth. And did you take it? Take it: he gave it me my Lord, I asked not for it. But 'tis not yet revenged. 'tis truth we suffered A little, but the place protected him. It was no place indeed. Now since you had the greatest burden in The affront. The blow? Right, woe would know whether your resolution Be first, to question him, for our cause appears Subordinate, and may take breath till you Ha called him to account. I proclaim nothing, And make no doubt the colonel will give me Satisfaction like a Gentleman. We are answered, and take our leave my Lord. We shall meet at the Ball anon gentlemen. Your Lordship's servants: now to our design. My Lord I take my leave too. Not yet cosin, you and I ha' not done. What you please cosin. You have cozened me too much. I my good Lord? Thou most unheard of coward, How dare you boast relation to me? Be so impudent as to name, or think upon me, Thou stain to honour, honour? thouart beneath All the degrees of baseness: quit thy father, Thy supposed one, and with sufficient testimony, Some Servingman leapt thy mother, or some juggler That conjures with old bones, some woman's tailor, When he brought home her petticoat, and took measure Of her loose body, or I'll cullis thee With a bottom. Good my Lord. Be so baffled? In presence of your Mistress, 'tis enough To make the blood of all thou knowest suspected, And I'll ha' satisfaction. My Lord. For using of my name in Ordinaries, Ith' list of other whom you make your privilege, To domineer, and win applause sometimes With Tapsters, and threadbare Tobacco Merchants, That worship your gold lace, and ignorance Stand bare, and bend their hams, when you belch out My Lord, and other cosin in a bawdy-house, Whom with a noise you curse by Jack and Tom, For failing you at Fishstreete, or the Still-yard. My very good Lord. Will you not draw? Not against your honour, but you shall see.
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)
Your Lordships pardon, Mr. Bostocke. Now shall I be put too't, this taking will undoe me? Prethee tell me? is the Coronell alive still? Alive my Lord, yes yes, hee's alive. Did your Lordship thinke absolutely he was dead? But he is shrewdly wounded. No my Lord, He is very well, but twas your kinsemans fortune. Prethee nere speake on't. What? To have a blow, a boxe oth' eare. How? With his fist, and an indifferent round one. Yes, yes he did strike me, I could ha told you that, But wherefore did he strike, aske 'em that. If you would know my Lord, he was our orator To raile upon the Lady for abusing us, Which I confesse he did with lung and spirit, Which in the conclusion, the Coronell Stroke him toth' ground. He did so tis a truth. And did you take it? Take it: he gave it me my Lord, I asked not for it. But tis not yet reveng'd. Tis truth we suffer'd A little, but the place protected him. It was no place indeed. Now since you had the greatest burden in The affront. The blow? Right, wo wod know whether your resolution Be first, to question him, for our cause appeares Subordinate, and may take breath till you Ha call'd him to account. I proclaime nothing, And make no doubt the Coronell will give me Satisfaction like a Gentleman. We are answer'd, and take our leave my Lord. We shall meete at the Ball anon gentlemen. Your Lordships servants: now to our designe. My Lord I take my leave too. Not yet cosin, you and I ha not done. What you please cosin. You have cosen'd me too much. I my good Lord? Thou most unheard of coward, How dare you bost relation to me? Be so impudent as to name, or thinke upon me, Thou staine to honour, honour? th'art beneath All the degrees of basenesse: quit thy father, Thy suppos'd one, and with sufficient testimony, Some Servingman leapt thy mother, or some Iuggler That conjures with old bones, some womans tailor, When he brought home her petticoate, and tooke measure Of her lose body, or Ile cullice thee With a bottome. Good my Lord. Be so baffoul'd? In presence of your Mistresse, tis enough To make the blood of all thou knowest suspected, And Ile ha satisfaction. My Lord. For using of my name in Ordinaries, Ith' list of other whom you make your priviledge, To dominere, and winne applause sometimes With Tapsters, and thread-beare Tobacco Merchants, That worship your gold lace, and ignorance Stand bare, and bend their hammes, when you belch out My Lord, and tother cosin in a Baudihouse, Whom with a noyse you curse by Iacke and Tom, For failing you at Fishstreete, or the Still-yard. My very good Lord. Will you not draw? Not against your honour, but you shall see.