Ford, John · published 1639 · first performed or written 1638 [licensed for stage, May 3] (Annals) not in BritDrama · Phoenix/Cockpit unassigned nearest T49 Wooing a mistress: suitors, go-betweens · 509 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T49: mistress, gentleman, love, lady, woman, pray, gentlewoman, hear, honest, way.
Twenty ducats She forced on me, vowed by the precious love She bore the best of men, (I use my lord) Her very words the miracle of men, Malfato, (then she sighed) this mite of gold Was only entrance to a farther bounty, 'tis meant (my lord) be like press money. Devil! how durst she tempt thee, Futelli, knowing Thy love to me? There lies (my lord) her cunning, Rather her craft: first she began what pity It was, that men should differ in estates, Without proportion some so strangely rich, Others so miserable poor; and yet, Quoth she, since 'tis very deed unfit All should be equals; so I must confess It were good justice that the properest men Should be preferred to fortune, such as nature Had marked with fair abilities of which Genoa, for aught I know, hath wondrous few Not two to boast of. Here began her itch. I answered, she was happy then, whose choice In you, my lord, was singular. Well urged. She smiled, and said, it might be so, and yet There stopped: then I closed with her, and concluded The title of a lord was not enough, For absolute perfection, I had seen Persons of meaner quality, much more Exact in fair endowments; but your Lordship Will pardon me, I hope. And love thee for it. Phew: let that pass (quoth she) and now we prattle Of handsome gentlemen, in my opinion, Malfato is a very pretty fellow, Is he not, pray Sir, I had then the truth Of what I roved around with more than praise, Approved her judgement in so high a strain, Without comparison (my honoured Lord) That soon we both concluded of the man, The match and business. For delivering A letter to Malfato. Whereto I No sooner had consented, with protests, (I did protest my Lord) of secrecy, And service, but she kissed me (as I live) Of her own free accord— (I trust your lordship Conceives not me amiss) pray rip the seal (My lord) you'll find sweet stuff, I dare believe, Present to the most accomplished Of men, Malfato with this Love a service. Kind Superscription, prithee find him out, Deliver it with compliment, observe How ceremoniously he does receive it. will not your lordship peruse the contents? enough I know too much be just, and cunning A wanton Mistress is a common sewer Much never project labours in my brain— Your friend here's now the Gemini of wit What odd conceit is next on foot, some cast Of neat invention, ha sire. Very fine, I do protest my lord. Your lordship's ear shall share i'th' plot. As how? You know my lord Young Amoretta, old Trelcatio's daughter An honest man, but poor. And my good lord, He that is honest, must be poor, my lord, It is a common rule. Well Amoretta, Pray one at once my knowledge is not much, Of her instruct me. Speak Futelli. Spare me. Piero has the tongue more pregnant. Fie play on your creature. Shall be yours.
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)
Twenty ducates She forcd on me, vowd by the pretious love She bore the beſt of men, (I uſe my lord) Her very words the miracle of men, Malfato, (then ſhe ſigh'd) this mite of gold Was only entrance to a farther bounty, Tis meant (my lord) be like preſſe mony. Divell! how durſt ſhe tempt thee, Futelli, knowing Thy love to me? There lies (my lord) her cunning, Rather her craft: firſt ſhe began what pitty It was, that men ſhould differ in eſtates, Without proportion ſome ſo ſtrangely rich, Others ſo miſerable poore; and yet, Quoth ſhe, ſince tis very deed unfit All ſhould be equalls; ſo I muſt confeſſe It were good juſtice that the propereſt men Should be prefer'd to fortune, ſuch as nature Had mark't with faire abilities of which Genoa, for ought I know, hath wondrous few Not two to boaſt of. Here began her itch. I anſwerd, ſhe was happy then, whoſe choice In you, my lord, was ſingular. Well urgd. She ſmil'd, and ſaid, it might be ſo, and yet There ſtopt: then I cloz'd with her, and concluded The title of a lord was not enough, For abſolute perfection, I had ſeene Perſons of meaner quality, much more Exact in faire indowments; but your Lordſhip Will pardon me, I hope. And love thee for it. Phew: let that paſſe (quoth ſhe) and now wee prattle Of handſome gentlemen, in my opinion, Malfato is a very prety fellow, Is he not, pray Sir, I had then the truth Of what I rov'd and with more then praiſe, Approv'd her judgement in ſo high a ſtraine, Without compariſon (my honourd Lord) That ſoone we both concluded of the man, The match and buſineſſe. For delivering A letter to Malfato. Whereto I No ſooner had conſented, with proteſts, (I did proteſt my Lord) of ſecreſie, And ſervice, but ſhe kiſt me (as I live) Of her owne free accord—(I truſt your lordſhip Conceaves not me amiſſe) pray rip the ſeale (My lord) youle finde ſweet ſtuffe, I dare believe, Preſent to the moſt accompliſht Of men, Malfato with this Love a ſervice. Kind Superſcription, prithee finde him out, Deliver it with complement, obſerve How ceremoniouſly he does receive it. will not your lordſhip peruſe the contents? enough I know too much be juſt, and cunning A wanton Miſtreſſe is a common ſewer Much never project labors in my braine— Yur friend heres now the Gemini of wit What od conceit is next on foot, ſome caſt Of neate invention, ha ſire. Very fine, I doe proteſt my lord. Your lordſhips eare ſhall ſhare ith' plot. As how? You know my lord Young Amoretta, old Trelcatio's daughter An honeſt man, but poore. And my good lord, He that is honeſt, muſt be poore, my lord, It is a common rule. Well Amoretta, Pray one at once my knowledge is not much, Of her inſtruct me. Speake Futelli. Spare me. Piero has the tongue more pregnant. Fie play on your creature. Shall be yours.