Mayne, Jasper · published 1639 · first performed or written 1637 [1637-1638(?)] (Annals) comedy · King's Men · before the Court unassigned nearest T16 Gallantry: ladies, lordships and complim · 501 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T16: lady, madam, gentleman, lordship, ladies, honour, mistress, sweet, court, servant.
No furious jug broke on it In the king's name? Did you contrive this scene By the way Gentlemen? No, but the News Thou shouldst turn Tradesman, and this Pagan dress, In which if thou shouldst die thou wouldst be damned For an Usurer, is comical at the Temple. We were about to bring in such a fellow For an Apostate in our Antimasque. Set one to keep the door, provide half-crown rooms, For I'll set bills up of thee, what shall I Give thee for the first day? ay, or second? For thou'lt endure twice or thrice coming in. Well my conceited Orient friends, bright Offsprings Oth' female silkworm, and tailor male I deny not But you look well in your unpaid for Glory. That in these colours you set out the Strand, And adorn Fleetstreet. That you may laugh at me Poor Working day o'th' City, like two Festivals Escaped out of the Almanac. Sirrah Bright, Didst look to hear such language beyond Ludgate? I thought all wit had ended at Fleet-bridge. But wit that goes o'th' the score, that may extend If't be a courtier's wit into Cheapside. Your Mercer lives there does he? I warrant you He has the patience of a burnt Heretic: The very faith that sold to you these silks And thinks you'll pay for 'em is strong enough To save the Infidel part o'th' world, or Antichrist. W'are most mechanically abused. Let's tear His Jacket off. A match take that side Hold, hold. How frail a thing old velvet is, it parts With as much ease and willingness as two Cowards. The tenderest weed that ever fell asunder. ha' you your wits? what mean you? Go, put on One of thy Temple suits and accompany us, Or else thy dimity breeches be mortal. You will Not strip me will you? By thy visible ears we will. By this two handed Beaver; which is so thin And light a butterfly's wings put to't would make it A Mercuries flying hat and soar aloft. But do you know to how much danger You tempt me? should my Uncle know I come Within the air of Fleetstreet—. Will you make yourself fit for a coach again, and come Along with us? Well my two resolute friends You shall prevail. But whether now are your Lewd motions bent? 'll dine at Roseclap's, there We shall meet Captain Quartfield, and his Poet, They shall show us another fish. But by the way we have agreed to see. A Lady, you Mechanic. What Lady? Hast Not thou heard of the New-sprung Lady? One That keeps her Coachman, Footboy, woman, and spends A thousand pound a year by wit. How? wit? That is her patrimony, Sir; 'tis thought The fortune she is borne to will not buy A bunch of Turnips. She is no Gamester is she? Nor carries false dice? No, but has a Tongue, Wert in a lawyer's mouth, would make him buy All young Heirs near him.
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)
No furious Iugge broke on it In the Kings name? Did you contrive this scene By the way Gentlemen? No, but the Newes Thou shouldst turne Trades-man, and this Pagan dresse, In which if thou shouldst dye thou wouldst be damned For an Usurer, is comicall at the Temple. We were about to bring in such a fellow For an Apostate in our Antimasque. Set one to keep the doore, provide halfe-crowne roomes, For Ile set bills up of thee, what shall I Give thee for the first day? I, or second? For thou't endure twice or thrice comming in. Well my conceipted Orient friends, bright Offsprings Oth' female silkworme, and Taylor male I deny not But you look well in your unpaid for Glory. That in these colours you set out the Strand, And adorne Fleet-street. That you may laugh at me Poore Working day oth' Citie, like two Festivals Escapt out of the Almanacke. Sirrah Bright, Didst look to heare such language beyond Ludgate? I thought all wit had ended at Fleet-bridge. But wit that goes oth' the score, that may extend If't be a Courtiers wit into Cheapside. Your Mercer lives there does he? I warrant you He has the patience of a burnt Heretique: The very faith that sold to you these silkes And thinks you'l pay for em is strong enough To save the Infidell part oth' world, or Antichrist. W'are most mechannically abused. Let's teare His Jacket off. A match take that side Hold, hold. How fraile a thing old velvet is, it parts With as much ease and willingnes as two Cowards. The tenderst weed that ever fell a sunder. Ha you your wits? what mean you? Goe, put on One of thy Temple suits and accompany us, Or else thy Dimmity breeches be mortall. You will Not strip me will you? By thy visible eares we will. By this two handed Beaver; which is so thinne And light a Butterflies wings put to't would make it A Mercuries flying hat and soare aloft. But doe you know to how much danger You tempt me? should my Uncle know I come Within the ayre of Fleet-street—. Will you make Your selfe fit for a coach againe, and come Along with us? Well my two resolute friends You shall prevaile. But whether now are your Lewd motions bent? Weel' dine at Roseclaps, there We shall meet Captaine Quartfield, and his Poet, They shall shew us another fish. But by the way we have agreed to see. A Lady, you Mechanick. What Lady? Hast Not thou heard of the New-sprung Lady? One That keeps her Coachman, Foot-boy, woman, and spends A thousand pound a yeare by wit. How? wit? That is her patrimony, Sir; tis thought The fortune she is borne to will not buy A bunch of Turnips. She is no Gamester is she? Nor carries false dice? No, but has a Tongue, Wert in a Lawyers mouth, would make him buy All young Heires neere him.