The Night Walker, or The Little Thief · chunk 13 of 39
Fletcher, John / Shirley, James · published 1640 · first performed or written c.1611(?) [revised by Shirley and re-licensed for stage, May 11, 1633] (Annals) comedy · Lady Elizabeth's Men · Phoenix/Cockpit unassigned nearest T49 Wooing a mistress: suitors, go-betweens · 491 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T49: mistress, gentleman, love, lady, woman, pray, gentlewoman, hear, honest, way.
To morrows a new sweet. Yes to melt it, But let's agree tonight, how it shall be handled I'll have a new gown. shalt have any thing. And such a riding suit as Mistress Newlove's, What though I be no gentlewoman borne, I hope I may achieve it by my carriage. Thou sayst right. You promised me a horse too, and a lackey. Thou shalt have horses six, and a postilion. That will be stately sweet heart, a postilion. Nay we'll be in fashion, he shall ride before us In winter, with as much dirt would damp a musket, The inside of our coach shall be of scarlet. That will be dear. There is a die projecting Will make it cheap wench, come thou shalt have any thing. Where is this chest, I long sweet to behold Our Jndies. Mistress let's melt it first, and then 'tis fit You should dispose it, then 'tis safe from danger. I'll be a loving Mistress to my boy too. Now fetch it in and let's rejoice upon't. Hold your light Mistress, we may see to enter. Ha what's here? call you this a chest? We ha' missed sir. Our haste and want of light made us mistake? A very Coffin. How, a Coffin? Boy, 'tis very like one. The devil owed us a shame, and now he has paid us. Is this your Treasure? Bury me alive in't. It may be there is no room. Nay, I will search it, I'll see what wealth's within,—— a woman's face, And a fair woman's. I cannot tell sir, Belike this was the sadness that possessed 'em; The plate stood next, I'm sure. I shake, I shake Boy, what a cold sweat— This may work, what will become on's sir? She is cold, dead cold: d'ye find 'your conscience, d'ye bring your Gillians hither— nay, she's punished, Your concealed love's cased up? 'tis Maria, the very same, the Bride, new horror! These are fine tricks, you hope she's in a sound, But I'll take order she shall ne'er recover To bore my nose, come, take her up and bury her Quickly, or I'll cry out; take her up instantly. Be not so hasty fool, that may undo us; we may be in for murder so; be patient, Thou seest she's dead, and cannot injure thee. I am sure she shall not. Be not sir dejected, Too much a strange mistake! this had not been else, It makes me almost weep to think upon't. What an unlucky thief am I? I'll no considering, either bestir yourself, or— Hold. Let it not stay to smell then, I will not Endure the stink of a Rival. Would 'twere there again. We must bury her. But where o'th' sudden, or with what providence, That no eyes watch us. Take a Spade and follow me. The next fair ground we meet, make the Church yard; As I live, I'll see her lodged.
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)
To morrowes a new sweet. Yes to melt it, But lets agree to night, how it shall be handled Ile have a new gowne. Shat have any thing. And such a riding suite as Mistresse Newloves, What though I be no gentlewoman borne, I hope I may atchieve it by my carriage. Thou sayst right. You promis'd me a horse too, and a lackquay. Thou shat have horses sixe, and a postilion. That will be stately sweete heart, a postilion. Nay weele be in fashion, he shall ride before us In winter, with as much dirt would dampe a musket, The inside of our coach shall be of scarlet. That will be deere. There is a dye projecting Will make it cheape wench, come thou shalt have any thing. Where is this chest, I long sweete to behold Our Jndies. Mistresse lets melt it first, and then tis fit You should dispose it, then tis safe from danger. Ile be a loving Mistresse to my boy too. Now fetch it in and lets rejoyce upon't. Hold your light Mistresse, we may see to enter. Ha whats h ere? call you this a chest? We ha mist sir. Our hast and want of light made us mistake? A very Coffin. How, a Coffin? Boy, Tis very like one. The devill ow'd us a shame, and now he has paid us. Is this your Treasure? Bury me alive in't. It may be there is no roome. Nay, I will search it, Ile see what wealth's within, — — a womans face, And a faire womans. I cannot tell sir, Belike this was the sadnesse that possest 'em; The plate stood next, I'me sure. I shake, I shake Boy, what a cold sweat — This may worke, what will become on's sir? She is cold, dead cold: de'e finde 'your conscience, De'e bring your Gillians hither — nay, shee's punish'd, Your conceal'd love's cas'd up? Tis Maria, the very same, the Bride, new horror! These are fine trickes, you hope shee's in a sound, But Ile take order she shall ne'r recover To bore my nose, come, take her up and bury her Quickly, or Ile cry out; take her up instantly. Be not so hasty foole, that may undoe us; Wee may be in for murther so; be patient, Thou seest shee's dead, and cannot injure thee. I am sure she shall not. Be not sir dejected, Too much a strange mistake! this had not beene else, It makes me almost weepe to thinke upon't. What an unluckie theefe am I? Ile no considering, either bestirre your selfe, or — Hold. Let it not stay to smell then, I will not Indure the stinke of a Rivall. Would twere there agen. We must bury her. But where o'th sudden, or with what providence, That no eyes watch us. Take a Spade and follow me. The next faire ground we meete, make the Church yard; As I live, Ile see her lodg'd.