The Night Walker, or The Little Thief · chunk 23 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 · 506 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T49: mistress, gentleman, love, lady, woman, pray, gentlewoman, hear, honest, way.
Madam, farewell, and all good fortune dwell w'ee, With me my own affections; farewell maid, Fair gentle maid. She sighs. Ducat a whee. I cannot go, there's somewhat calls me back. Poor Frank, How gladly would I entertain thy love, And meet thy worthy flame, but shame forbids me: If please her Ladyships dwell here with Gwennyth, and learn to spin and card rill, to mage flannels, and linsey-wolseys, sall tawg could urds to her ladyship's urships for her. The tears of true affection, woe is me, O cursed love that glories in maids' miseries, And true men's broken hearts. Alas I pity him, the wench is rude, and knows you not, forgive her. Wine your nyes pray you, though was porne in Walls 'mong craggy rocks, and mountains, yet heart is soft, look you, hur can weep too, when her see men mage privy tears and lamentations. How hard she holds me? Just as Maria did, weeps the same drops, Now as I have a living soul, her sigh too; What shall I think, is not your name Maria, If it be not, delude me with so much charity To say it is. Upon her life, you was mighty deal in love with some podies, your pale seeks and hollow nyes, and pantings upon her bosom, know very well, because look you, her think her honest sentilman, you sall call her Maria. Good Madam, think not ill I am thus saucy. Oh no sir, be you not angry with the wench. I am most pleased. Let's interrupt him, he'll be mad our right else. Observe a little more. Would I could in your language beg a kiss. If her have necessities of a kiss, look you, dere is one in sarities. Let me suffer death, If in my apprehension, two twinnd cherries Be more a kin, than her lips to Maria's; And if this harsh illusion would but leave her, She were the same; good Madam, shall I have Your consent now. To what? To give this Virgin to me. she's not mine, this is her kinswoman, And has more power to dispose; alas, I pity him. Pray gentlemen prevail with him to go; More that I wish his comfort than his absence. You have been always kind to me, will you Deny me your fair Chosen. 'Twere fit you first obtained her own consent. He is no friend that wishes my departure, I do not trouble you. 'tis not Maria. Her shadow is enough, I'll dwell with that, Pursue your own ways, shall we live together? If her will come tomorrow and tauge to her, her will tell her more of her meanings, and then if her be melancholy, her will sing her a Welsh song too, to make her merries, but Gwennyth was very honest; her was never love but one sentleman, and he was bear her great teale of goodills too, was marry one day, S. Davy her give her five pair of white gloves, if her will dance at her weddings.
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)
Madam, farewell, and all good fortune dwell w'ee, With me my owne affections; farwell maide, Faire gentle maide. She sighes. Du cat a whee. I cannot goe, theres somewhat calls me backe. Poore Franke, How gladly would I entertaine thy love, And meet thy worthy flame, but shame forbids me: If please her Ladyships dwell here with Guenneth, and learne to spinne and card ll, to mage flannells, and linseyes ulseis, sall tawg co'd urds to her Ladyships urships for her. The teares of true affection, woe is me, O cursed love that glories in maides miseries, And true mens broken hearts. Alas I pitty him, the wench is rude, and knowes you not, forgive her. Wyne your nyes pray you, though was porne in Walls 'mong craggy rocks, and mountains, yet heart is soft, looke you, hur can weepe too, when her see men mage prinie teares and lamentations. How hard she holds me? Just as Maria did, weepes the same drops, Now as I have a living soule, her sigh too; What shall I thinke, is not your name Maria, If it be not, delude me with so much charity To say it is. Vpon her life, you was mightie deale in love with some podies, your pale seekes and hollow nyes, and pantings upon her posome, know very well, because looke you, her thinke her honest sentilman, you sall call her Maria. Good Madam, thinke not ill I am thus sawcie. Oh no sir, be you not angry with the wench. I am most pleas'd. Lets interrupt him, hee'le be mad our right else. Observe a little more. Would I could in your language beg a kisse. If her have necessities of a kisse, looke you, dere is one in sarities. Let me suffer death, If in my apprehension, two twinnd cherries Be more a kin, than her lips to Marias; And if this harsh illusion would but leave her, She were the same; good Madam, shall I have Your consent now. To what? To give this Virgin to me. Shees not mine, this is her Kiswoman, And has more power to dispose; alas, I pitty him. Pray gentlemen prevaile with him to goe; More that I wish his comfort than his absence. You have beene alwayes kind to me, will you Denie me your faire Chosen. 'Twere fit you first obtain'd her owne consent. He is no friend that wishes my departure, I doe not trouble you. Tis not Maria. Her shadow is enough, Ile dwell with that, Persue your owne wayes, shall we live together? If her will come to morrow and tauge to her, her will tell her more of her meanings, and then if her be melancholy, her will sing her a Welch song too, to make her merries, but Guenneth was very honest; her was never love but one sentleman, and he was beare her great teale of goodills too, was marry one day, S. Davy her give her five paire of white gloves, if her will dance at her weddings.