Monsieur Thomas (Father's Own Son) · chunk 1 of 42
Fletcher, John · published 1639 · first performed or written 1615 [1610-c.1616] (Annals) comedy · Unknown · Blackfriars T11 Siblings, kin and confidants typicality 0.84 · 502 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T11: sister, brother, love, friend, heart, father, mother, woman, lord, hear.
HOw dearly welcome you are! I know it, And my best sister, you as dear to my sight, And pray let this confirm it, how you have governed My poor state in my absence, how my servants, I dare and must believe, else I should wrong ye, The best and worthiest. As my woman's wit Sir, Which is but weak and crazy. But good Alice Tell me how fares the gentle Cellide, The life of my affection, since my travel, My long, and lazy travel? is her love still Upon the growing hand? does it not stop And whither at my years? has she not viewed And entertained some younger smooth behaviour Some youth but in his blossom, as herself is? There lies my fears. They need not, for believe me So well you have managed her, and won her mind, Even from her hours of childhood, to this ripeness, And in your absence, that by me enforced still, So well distilled your gentleness into her, Observed her, fed her fancy, lived still in her, And though Love be a boy, and ever youthful, And young, and beauteous objects ever aimed at, Yet here ye have gone beyond love, bettered nature, Made him appear in years, in grey years fiery, His bow at full bend ever: fear not brother, For though your body has been far off from her, Yet every hour your heart, which is your goodness, I have forced into her, won a place prepared too, And willingly to give it ever harbour: Believe she is so much yours, and won by miracle, (Which is by age) so deep a stamp set on her By your observances, she cannot alter, Were the child living now ye lost at sea Among the Genua Galleys, what a happiness, What a main blessing? O no more good sister, Touch no more that string, 'tis too harsh and jarring. With that child all my hopes went, and you know The root of all those hopes, the mother too Within few days. 'Tis too true, and too fatal, But peace be with their souls. For her loss I hope, the beauteous Cellide. You may Sir, For all she is, is yours. For the poor boy's loss, I have brought a noble friend, I found in travel A worthier mind, and a more temperate spirit If I have so much judgement to discern 'em, Man yet was never master of. What is he? A Gentleman, I do assure myself, And of a worthy breeding, though he hide it: I found him at Valentia, poor and needy, Only his mind the master of a treasure. I sought his friendship, won him by much violence, His honesty and modesty still fearing To thrust a charge upon me; how I love him, He shall now know, where want and he hereafter Shall be no more companions: use him nobly, It is my will, good sister, all I have I make him free companion in, and partly oer, But only
nodes 0–67 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 1 of 42 in this edition
Length
502 words · 635 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T11 — Siblings, kin and confidantscross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.840 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
seed 43: T15 · seed 44: T12 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
HOw dearely welcome you are! I know it, And my beſt ſiſter, you as deer to my ſight, And pray let this confirm it, how you have govern'd My poore ſtate in my abſence, how my ſervants, I dare and muſt beleeve, elſe I ſhould wrong ye, The beſt and worthieſt. As my womans wit Sir, Which is but weake and crazie. But good Alice Tell me how fares the gentle Cellide, The life of my affection, ſince my travell, My long, and lazie travell? is her love ſtill Vpon the growing hand? do's it not ſtop And wither at my yeares? has ſhe not view'd And entertain'd ſome yonger ſmooth behaviour Some youth but in his bloſſome, as her ſelfe is? There lyes my feares. They need not, for beleeve me So well you have manag'd her, and won her minde, Even from her houres of childehood, to this ripeneſſe, And in your abſence, that by me inforced ſtil, So well diſtill'd your gentleneſſe into her, Obſerv'd her, fed her fancy, liv'd ſtill in her, And though Love be a boy, and ever youthfull, And young, and beauteous objects ever aym'd at, Yet here yee have gone beyond love, better'd nature, Made him appeare in yeares, in gray yeares fiery, His bow at full bent ever: feare not brother, For though your body has been farre off from her, Yet every houre your heart, which is your goodneſſe, I have forc'd into her, won a place prepar'd too, And willingly to give it ever harbour: Beleeve ſhe is ſo much yours, and won by miracle, (Which is by age) ſo deep a ſtamp ſet on her By your obſervances, ſhe cannot alter, Were the childe living now ye loſt at ſea Among the Genoway Gallies, what a happineſſe, What a maine bleſſing? O no more good ſiſter, Touch no more that ſtring, 'tis too harſh and jarring. With that childe all my hopes went, and you know The root of all thoſe hopes, the mother too Within few dayes. 'Tis too true, and too fatall, But peace be with their ſoules. For her loſſe I hope, the beauteous Cellide. You may Sir, For all ſhe is, is yours. For the poore boyes loſſe, I have brought a noble friend, I found in travell A worthier minde, and a more temperate ſpirit If J have ſo much judgement to diſcerne 'em, Man yet was never maſter of. What is he? A Gentleman, I doe aſſure my ſelfe, And of a worthy breeding, though he hide it: I found him at Valentia, poore and needy, Onely his minde the maſter of a treaſure. I ſought his friendſhip, wonne him by much violence, His honeſty and modeſty ſtill fearing To thruſt a charge upon me; how I love him, He ſhall now know, where want and he hereafter Shall be no more companions: uſe him nobly, It is my will, good ſiſter, all I have J make him free companion in, and part er, But onely