Monsieur Thomas (Father's Own Son) · chunk 10 of 42
Fletcher, John · published 1639 · first performed or written 1615 [1610-c.1616] (Annals) comedy · Unknown · Blackfriars unassigned nearest T49 Wooing a mistress: suitors, go-betweens · 492 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T49: mistress, gentleman, love, lady, woman, pray, gentlewoman, hear, honest, way.
Out, out upon thee. how would you have me write? Begin with my love premised? surely, And by my truly Mistress Take your own course For I see all persuasion's lost upon ye: Humanity, all drowned: from this hour fairly I'll wash my hands of all ye do: farewell Sir. Thou art not mad? No, if I were, dear brother I would keep you company: get a new Mistress Some suburb Sant, that six pence, and some others Will draw to parley: carouse her health in Cans And candles ends, and quarrel for her beauty, Such a sweet hart must serve your turn: your old love Releases ye of all your ties; disclaims ye And utterly abjures your memory Till time has better managed ye, will ye command me What bobbed of all sides? Any worthy service Unto my father sir, that I may tell him Even to his peace of heart, and much rejoicing Ye are his true son Thom still? will it please ye To beat some half a dozen of his servants presently That I may testify you have brought the same faith Vnblemishd home, ye carried out? or if it like you There be two chambermaids within, young wenches, Handsome and apt for exercise: you have been good, sir, And charitable though I say it Signior To such poor orphans: and now, by th' way I think on't Your young rear Admiral, I mean your last bastard Don Iohn, ye had by Lady Blanch the Dairy Maid, Is by an Academy of learned Gypsies, Foreseeing some strange wonder in the infant Stolen from the Nurse, and wanders with those Prophets. There is plate in the parlour, and good store sir, When your wants shall supply it. So most humbly (First rendering my due service) I take leave sir. Why Doll, why Doll I say: my letter subd too, And no access without I mend my manners? All my designs in Limbo? I will have her, Yes, I will have her, though the devil roar, I am resolved that, if she live above ground, I'll not be bobbed i'th' nose with every bobtaile: I will be civil too: now I think better, Exceeding civil, wondrous finely carried: And yet be mad upon occasion, And stark mad too, and save my land: my father: I'll have my will of him, how ere my wench goes. Sirrah, I say still you have spoilt your Master: leave your stitches: I say thou hast spoilt thy master. I say how sir? Marry thou hast taught him like an arrant rascal, First to read perfectly: which on my blessing I warned him from: for I knew if he read once, He was a lost man. Secondly, sir Lancelot, Sir lousy Lancelot, ye have suffered him Against my power first, then against my precept, To keep that simpering sort of people company, That sober men call civil: mark ye that Sir? an't please your worship.
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)
Out, out upon thee. how would you have me write? Begin with my love premiſed? ſurely, And by my truly Miſtreſſe Take your owne courſe For I ſee all perſwaſion's loſt upon ye: Humanitie, all drownd: from this howre fayrely Ile waſh my hands of all ye do: farewell Sir. Thou art not mad? No, if I were, deere brother I would keep you company: get a new Miſtreſſe Som ſuburb Sant, that ſix pence, and ſom others Will draw to parley: carowſe her health in Cans And candles ends, and quarrell for her beauty, Such a ſweet hart muſt ſerve your turne: your old love Releaſes ye of all your tyes; diſclaimes ye And utterly abjures your memory Till time has better mannag'd ye, will ye comand me What bobd of all ſides? Any worthy ſervice Vnto my father ſir, that I may tell him Even to his peace of heart, and much rejoycing Ye are his true ſon Thom ſtill? will it pleaſe ye To beat ſome halfe a dozen of his ſervants preſently That I may teſtifie you have brought the ſame faith Vnblemiſhd home, ye carried out? or if it like you There be two chambermaids within, yong wenches, Handſom and apt for exerciſe: you have bin good, ſir, And charitable though I ſay it Signiour To ſuch poore orphans: and now, by th' way I think on't Your yong reare Admirall, I meane your laſt baſtard Don Iohn, ye had by Lady Blanch the Dairy Maid, Is by an Academy of learned Gypſies, Foreſeeing ſome ſtrange wonder in the infant Stolne from the Nurſe, and wanders with thoſe Prophets. There is plate in the parlour, and good ſtore ſir, When your wants ſhall ſupply it. So moſt humbly (Firſt rendring my due ſervice) I take leave ſir. Why Doll, why Doll I ſay: my letter ſubd too, And no acceſſe without I mend my manners? All my deſignes in Limbo? I will have her, Yes, I will have her, though the divell rore, I am reſolv'd that, if ſhe live above ground, I'le not be bobd i'th noſe with every bobtaile: I will be civill too: now I thinke better, Exceeding civill, wondrous finely carried: And yet be mad upon occaſion, And ſtarke mad too, and ſave my land: my father: I'le have my will of him, how ere my wench goes. Sirha, I ſay ſtill you have ſpoild your Maſter: leave your ſtiches: I ſay thou haſt ſpoild thy maſter. I ſay how ſir? Marry thou haſt taught him like an arrant raſcall, Firſt to reade perfectly: which on my bleſſing I warn'd him from: for I knew if he read once, He was a loſt man. Secondly, ſir Launcelot, Sir lowſie Launcelot, ye have ſuffer'd him Againſt my power firſt, then againſt my precept, To keepe that ſimpring ſort of people company, That ſober men call civill: marke ye that Sir? And't pleaſe your worſhip.