Davenport, Robert · published 1639 · first performed or written 1625 [c.1624-1639] (Annals) comedy · Queen Henrietta Maria's Men (?); Lady Elizabeth's Men (?) T15 Friars and holy orders in plot typicality 0.82 · 489 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T15: friar, lord, holy, friars, robin, peggy, lacie, angelo, love, nun.
jealousy, oh what a fury art thou? Fury, where? kept it within my bosom I would cherish it, And hug't as one that I accounted most: Lay't in this hand I'd brandish't 'gainst my stars And dare them to encounter: lodged it here, Within my eyes, I would outstare the Devil, The Devil, I the Devil. That foul fiend, Why do you name so oft? oh study better thoughts, And set him at defiance. Canst not endure his name, yet com'st thyself To tempt me with his Satin? oh those eyes, That once appeared like to those glorious Tapers That spangle Heaven, show like black funerals The Sisters bear, that blast where ere they burn: Farewell my ruin, my decay and fall, And what sinister Fate soe'er I have. May thy false pride b'insculped upon my grave. Curse on that pride, that such a hopeful Gentleman Should in his prime be lost by that and me; But who was cause? who first traduced me to't? My Mother, and that Lord; the sin be theirs: Offend they, and must scape due punishment? Then let me lose, what womankind best arms, My use of Tongue; if but this Pipe hold clear, I'll make both curse them taught me first to speak, And wish I from my Cradle had been dumb: My hate to him shall in his charge and cost, Redeem the love that I to this have lost. NOw we have passed our more retired hours To holy uses as our vows compel; In zealous and Religious exercises, In Visitation of the weak and sick, To strengthen those that stagger with our prayers, And ghostly counsel; now night calls us home Unto our Cloister, there to spend the rest Of our late hours in thoughts contemplative, And sacred Meditations. Holy Father, I am afraid time hath prevented us, 'Tis now past Eight, and, but I much mistake, I heard the warning of the Cloister Bell, Which tells us, if we reach not instantly W'are for this night excluded. Mercy Heaven how swift time runs? W'are now at Islington, What hope have we to get to Crutched Friars Before the Gates be shut, and the Keys carried Up to the abbot's Chamber? Thou sayst true, how shall we spend the night then? We'll knock here At the next sign, the good man I know well, Of honest conversation, of good life, And yet a boon companion; one that loves Good company, and to be merry with them. He, if he be at home, will bid us welcome: My Hostess too, a sweet and smooth-faced wench, Courteous and kind, and wondrous well beloved Of all her Neighbours; liberal to the Church, And much commended for her Charity. Let us not balk her house. Knock good Friar Iohn, and beg us a night's lodging. Who's that abroad so late? For Charity those that would be admitted. Charity should be in bed at Midnight.
seed 43: T19 · seed 44: T20 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Iealouſie, oh what a fury art thou? Fury, where? kept it within my boſom I would cheriſh it, And hugg't as one that I accounted moſt: Lay't in this hand I'de brandiſh't 'gainſt my ſtarres And dare them to encounter: lodg'd it here, Within my eyes, I would out-ſtare the Divell, The Divell, I the Divell. That foule fiend, Why doe you name ſo oft? oh ſtudy better thoughts, And ſet him at defiance. Canſt not endure his name, yet com'ſt thy ſelfe To tempt me with his Sattin? oh thoſe eyes, That once appear'd like to thoſe glorious Tapers That ſpangle Heaven, ſhew like blacke funeralls The Siſters beare, that blaſt where ere they burne: Farewell my ruine, my decay and fall, And what ſiniſter Fate ſo ere I have. May thy falſe pride b'inſculpt upon my grave. Curſe on that pride, that ſuch a hopefull Gentleman Should in his prime be loſt by that and me; But who was cauſe? who firſt traduc'd me to't? My Mother, and that Lord; the ſin be theirs: Offend they, and muſt ſcape due puniſhment? Then let me looſe, what womankind beſt armes, My uſe of Tongue; if but this Pipe hold cleare, Ile make both curſe them taught me firſt to ſpeake, And wiſh I from my Cradle had bin dumbe: My hate to him ſhall in his charge and coſt, Redeeme the love that I to this have loſt. NOw we have paſſ'd our more retired houres To holy uſes as our vowes compell; In zealous and Religious exerciſes, In Viſitation of the weake and ſicke, To ſtrengthen thoſe that ſtagger with our prayers, And ghoſtly counſell; now night calls us home Unto our Cloyſter, there to ſpend the reſt Of our late houres in thoughts contemplative, And ſacred Meditations. Holy Father, I am affraid time hath prevented us, 'Tis now paſt Eight, and, but I much miſtake, I heard the warning of the Cloyſter Bell, Which tells us, if we reach not inſtantly W'are for this night excluded. Mercy Heaven how ſwift time runs? W'are now at Iſlington, What hope have we to get to Crutched Friers Before the Gates be ſhut, and the Keyes carried Up to the Abbots Chamber? Thou ſay'ſt true, how ſhall we ſpend the night then? We'le knocke here At the next ſigne, the good man I know well, Of honeſt converſation, of good life, And yet a boone companion; one that loves Good company, and to be merry with them. He, if he be at home, will bid us welcome: My Hoſteſſe too, a ſweet and ſmooth-fac'd wench, Courteous and kind, and wondrous well belov'd Of all her Neighbours; liberall to the Church, And much commended for her Charity. Let us not bauke her houſe. Knocke good Frier Iohn, and begge us a nights lodging. Who's that abroad ſo late? For Charity thoſe that would be admitted. Charity ſhould be in bed at Mid-night.