Monsieur Thomas (Father's Own Son) · chunk 2 of 42
Fletcher, John · published 1639 · first performed or written 1615 [1610-c.1616] (Annals) comedy · Unknown · Blackfriars unassigned nearest T48 Addressing a lady: love, desire and inti · 506 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T48: lady, love, heart, fair, eyes, la, lord, tears, fie, face.
I observe ye, hold your right there, Love and high rule allows no rivals, brother, He shall have fair regard, and all observance. Ye are welcome noble Sir. What, Monsieur Hylas, I'm glad to see your merry body well yet. Yf'aith y'are welcome home; what news beyond seas? None, but new men expected, such as you are To breed new admirations: 'tis my sister, Pray ye know her sir. With all my heart, your leave Lady. Ye have it sir. A shrewd smart touch, which does prognosticate A body keen and active, somewhat old, But that's all one: age brings experience And knowledge to dispatch. I must be better And nearer in my service, with your leave sir, To this fair Lady. What, the old squire of dames still? Still the admirer of their goodness with all my heart now I love a woman of her years, a pacer That lay the bridle in her neck will travel Forty, and somewhat fulsome is a fine dish, These young colts; are too sketish. My cousin Mary In all her joy Sir to congratulate Your fair return. My loving, and kind cousin, A thousand welcomes. A thousand thanks to heaven Sir For your safe, voyage, and return. I thanke e: But where's my blessed Cellide? her slackness In visitation. Think not so dear Uncle, I left her on her knees, thanking the gods With tears and prayers. Ye have given me too much comfort. She will not belong from ye. Your fair cousin? It is so, and a bait you cannot balk sir, If your old rule reign in you, ye may know her. A happy stock ye have, right worthy Lady, The poorest of your servants, vows his duty And obliged faith. O 'tis a kiss you would sir, Take it, and tie your tongue up. I am an ass I do perceive now: a blind ass, a blockhead: For this is handsomeness, this that that draws us, Body and bones: oh what a mounted forehead, What eyes and lips, what every thing about her? How like a Swan she swims her pace, and bears Her silver breasts? this is the woman, she, And only she, that I will so much honour As to think worthy of my love, all older Idols I hearty abhor, and give to gunpowder, And all complexions besides hers, to Gypsies. O my dear life, my better heart, all dangers, Distresses in my travel, all misfortunes, Had they been endless like the hours upon me, In this kiss, had been buried in oblivion: How happy have ye made me, truly happy? My joy has so much overmastered me, That in my tears for your return. O dearest: My noble friend too: what a blessedness Have I about me now? how full my wishes Are come again, a thousand hearty welcomes I once more lay upon ye: all I have, The fair and liberal use of all my servants To be at your command, and all the uses Of all within my power.
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)
I obſerve ye, hold your right there, Love and high rule allowes no rivals, brother, He ſhall have faire regard, and all obſervance. Ye are welcome noble Sir. What, Monſieur Hylas, I'me glad to ſee your merry body well yet. Yf'aith y'are welcome home; what news beyond ſeas? None, but new men expected, ſuch as you are To breed new admirations: 'tis my ſiſter, Pray ye know her ſir. With all my heart, your leave Lady. Ye have it ſir. A ſhrewd ſmart touch, which do's prognoſticate A body keene and active, ſomewhat old, But that's all one: age brings experience And knowledge to diſpatch. I muſt be better And neerer in my ſervice, with your leave ſir, To this faire Lady. What, the old ſquire of dames ſtill? Still the admirer of their goodneſſe with all my heart now I love a woman of her yeares, a pacer That lay the bridle in her neck will travell Forty, and ſomewhat fulſome is a fine diſh, Theſe yong colts; are too sketiſh. My coſin Mary In all her joy Sir to congratulate Your faire returne. My loving, and kind coſin, A thouſand welcomes. A thouſand thanks to heaven Sir For your ſafe, voyage, and returne. I thanke e: But wher's my bleſſed Cellide? her ſlackneſſe In viſitation. Thinke not ſo deere Vncle, I left her on her knees, thanking the gods With teares and prayers. Ye have given me too much comfort. She will not belong from ye. Your faire coſin? It is ſo, and a bait you cannot balke ſir, If your old rule raigne in you, ye may know her. A happy ſtocke ye have, right worthy Lady, The pooreſt of your ſervants, vowes his duty And obliged faith. O 'tis a kiſſe you would ſir, Take it, and tye your tongue up. I am an aſſe I doe perceive now: a blinde aſſe, a blockhead: For this is handſomneſſe, this that that drawes us, Body and bones: oh what a mounted forehead, What eyes and lips, what every thing about her? How like a Swan ſhe ſwims her pace, and beares Her ſilver breaſts? this is the woman, ſhe, And onely ſhe, that I will ſo much honour As to thinke worthy of my love, all older Idols I heartily abhorre, and give to gunpowder, And all complexions beſides hers, to Gypſies. O my deere life, my better heart, all dangers, Diſtreſſes in my travell, all misfortunes, Had they been endleſſe like the houres upon me, In this kiſſe, had been buried in oblivion: How happy have ye made me, truely happy? My joy has ſo much overmaſtered me, That in my teares for your returne. O deereſt: My noble friend too: what a bleſſedneſſe Have I about me now? how full my wiſhes Are come agen, a thouſand hearty welcomes I once more lay upon ye: all I have, The faire and liberall uſe of all my ſervants To be at your command, and all the uſes Of al within my power.