Massinger, Philip · published 1639 · first performed or written 1624 [1624-1625] (Annals) tragedy · King's Men · Globe unassigned nearest T16 Gallantry: ladies, lordships and complim · 495 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T16: lady, madam, gentleman, lordship, ladies, honour, mistress, sweet, court, servant.
And yet you laid it to another. True, While you were poor, and it was policy, But she that has variety of fathers, And makes nor choyce of him that can maintaine t, ne'er studied Aristotle's Problems. A smart quean. Why branches will you worry me? No, but ease you Of your golden burden, the heavy carriage may Bring you to a sweating sickness. Very likely, I foam all over already. Will you come off, Sir? Would I had ne'er come on: hear me with patience, Or I will anger you. Go to, you know me And do not vex me further: by my sins And your diseases, which are certain truths, whate'er you think, I am not master at This instant, of a livre. What, and in Such a glorious suit? The liker wretched things To have no money. You may pawn your clothes, Sir, Will you see your issue starve? Or the mothers beg? Why, you unconscionable strumpets, would you have me Transform my hat to double clouts and biggins? My corselet to a cradle? or my belt To swaddlebands? or turn my cloak to blankets? Or to sell my sword and spurs for soap and candles? Have you no mercy? what a chargeable devil We carry in our breeches? Now 'tis time. To fetch him off. Your father does it for us. The Governor! What are these? And it like your Lordship, Very poor spinsters. I am his Nurse and Laundress, You have nursed and laundered me, hell take you for it. Vanish. Do, do, and talk with him hereafter. 'tis our best course We'll find a time to fit him. Why, In this heat, Belgarde You are the cause of 't. Who, I? Yes, your pied livery, and your gold Draw these vexations on me, pray you strip me And let me be as I was: I will not lose The pleasures and the freedom which I had In my certain poverty; for all the wealth Fair France is proud of? we at better leisure Will learn the cause of this. What answer, Sir, From the Admiral? None, his daughter is removed To the sort of Montrevile, and he himself In person fled, but where is not discovered, I could tell you wonders, but the time denies me Fit liberty. In a word, let it suffice The power of our great master is contemned, The sacred laws of God and man profaned, And if I sit down with this injury, I am unworthy of my place, and thou Of my acknowledgement: draw up all the troops, As I go, I will instruct you to what purpose. Such as have power to punish, and yet spare From fear, or from connivance, others ill Though not in act assist them in their will Bind them, and gag their mouths sure, I alone Will be your convoy. Madam, Dearest Lady, Let me fight for my Mistress. 'tis in vain, Little cockerel of the kind.
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)
And yet you laid it to another. True, While you were poore, and it was polcy, But she that has varietie of fathers, And makes nor choyce of him that can maintaine t, Nere studied Aristotles Problemes. A smart queane. Why braches will you whurry me? No, but ease you Of your golden burthen, the heavie carriage may Bring you to a sweating sicknesse. Very likely, I soame all ore alreadie. Will you come off, Sir? Would I had ne're come on: heare me with patience, Or I will anger you. Goe to, you know me And doe not vexe me further: by my sins And your diseases, which are certaine truthes, What ere you thinke, I am not master at This instant, of a livre. What, and in Such a glorious suite? The liker wretched things To have no mony. You may pawne your clothes, Sir, Will you see your issue starve? Or the mothers beg? Why, you unconscionable strumpets, would you have me Transforme my hat to double elout and biggins? My corselet to a cradle? or my belt To swaddlebands? or turne my cloke to blankets? Or to sell my sword and spurs for sope and candles? Have you no mercy? what a chargeable divell We carry in our breeche? Now tis tme. To etch him off. Your father does it for us. The Governour! What are these? And it like your Lordship, Very poore spner. I am his Nurse and , You have 'd and lander'd me, hell take you for it Vanish. Doe, doe, and talke with him hereafter. Tis our best course We'll find a time to fit him. Why, In this heat, Belgarde You are the cause of 't. Who, I? Yes, your pied liverie, and your gold Draw these vexations on mee, pray you strip me And let me be as I was: I will not lose The pleasures and the fredome which I had In my certaine povertie; for all the wealth Faire France is proud of? Wee at better leasure Will learne the cause of this. What answer, Sir, From the Admirall? None, his daughter is remov'd To the sort of Montrevile, and he himselfe In person fled, but where is not discover'd, I could tell you wonders, but the time denies mee Fit libertie. In a word, let it suffice The power of our great master is contemn'd, The sacred lawes of God and man prophan'd, And if I sit downe with this injury, I am unworthy of my place, and thou Of my acknowledgement: draw up all the troopes, As I goe, I will instruct you to what purpose. Such as have power to punish, and yet spare From feare, or from conivence, others ill Though not in act assist them in their wll BInde them, and gag their mouthes sure, I alone Will be your convoy. Madam, Dearest Lady, Let me fight for my Mistresse. Tis in vaine, Little Cockerell of the kinde.