Shirley, James · published 1640 · first performed or written 1631 [licensed for stage, May 17] (Annals) comedy · Queen Henrietta Maria's Men · Phoenix/Cockpit T27 Uncles, nephews and cousins: kinship and typicality 0.86 · 483 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T27: uncle, niece, nephew, gentlemen, faith, cousin, wife, house, gentleman, money.
Ha, ha. I hope your grace will pardon him, these fits Are ever at full Moon. Beg your Uncle signior? Yes I would furnish him with an Hourglass and a scythe; And sell him to the Masons for the picture Of time, Madam, would he not show well? This is witty, what detractor Gave out signior Comachio, your Nephew Had no rich brain, Carintha, do you nold him Laura, Comachio, ha? Giotto, she has put me out again, Then rail upon her Ladies, Hum. when I contemplate on your highness' face I hate all others. Can your excellence. Why, is mine so bad? I beseech your grace, speak your part right, Oblivion is my qu. I do remember. Madam Carintha, speak to her grace. Has Madam Laura such I lip or eye? I do confess she has a nose, but I Pass over it. He makes a bridge of that, Her cheeks,— Nephew— Madam I humbly pray I may remove This rudeness, 'tis a discord must needs grate Your soft ear, Uncle you are out now, her cheeks. Well signior, what of my cheeks. Why your cheeks are, as they are, death, I ha' forgot. This 'tis when you won't come t'rehearsal. My cheeks are Such as creation framed 'em, and the colour Is nature's gift. It had need be gift, I know none so prodigal To be at charge to buy 'em, yet you thought I was in love w'ye, I confess I did Once cherish an opinion you were something About a gipsie, and might serve in Lent When flesh was rare, but you must take into Your thoughts, I meant not honestly, you see For whom fate hath reserved me, be as patient As such a loss will suffer you, do not mar Your face, cause I condemn it, it may serve Some hungry signior, or some City heir That would be dabbled in nobility, And pay for his cornuting. He is most witty Carintha. Giotto, she is taken with this imprudence, What dulness hangs upon her soul? some fatal Apoplexy seize him, that which we Plotted to make him hateful does enchant her. Madam, you see I have a body, ponderous And full of marrow, I'll not get an heir Less hopeful than myself, my first son shall be An Emperor borne, may I do things to purpose When I am in once. Will not this startle her? Sure Madam, he will put down Hercules. Hercules, Hercules, what, a Pedlar. Pedlar, my Lord you would say piddler. He shall be what I please, do not I know Hercules, He got but fifty in a night, but I— Madam your ear. My duty to your grace, makes me forget He is my kinsman. Signior Depazzi, We have leisure to hear you finish your discourse With Laura and Carintha. He's courted to her privacy, her soul is In a deep Lethargy.
seed 43: T39 · seed 44: T37 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Ha, ha. I hope your grace will pardon him, these fits Are ever at full Moone. Begge your Vncle Signiour? Yes I would furnish him with an Houreglasse and a sithe; And sell him to the Masons for the picture Of time, Madam, would he not shew well? This is witty, what detractour Gave out Signiour Comachio, your Nephew Had no rich braine, Carintha, doe you nold him Laura, Comachio, ha? Giotto, she has put me out agen, Then raile upon her Ladies, Hum, when I contemplate on your highnesse face I hate all others. Can your excellence. Why, is mine so bad? I beseech your grace, speake your part right, Oblivion is my qu. I doe remember. Madam Carintha, speake to her grace. Has Madam Laura such I lip or eye? I doe confesse she has a nose, but I Passe over it. He makes a bridge of that, Her cheekes,— Nephew—Madam I humbly pray I may remove This rudenesse, tis a discord must needes grate Your soft eare, Vncle you are out now, her cheekes. Well Signiour, what of my cheekes. Why your cheekes are, as they are, death, I ha forgot. This tis when you won't come t'rehearsall. My cheekes are Such as creation fram'd em, and the colour Is natures gift. It had need be gift, I know none so prodigall To be at charge to buy em, yet you thought I was in love w'ye, I confesse I did Once cherish an opinion you were something About a gipsie, and might serve in Lent When flesh was rare, but you must take into Your thoughts, I meant not honestly, you see For whom fate hath reserv'd me, be as patient As such a losse will suffer you, doe not marre Your face, cause I condemne it, it may serve Some hungry signiour, or some City heire That would be dabled in nobility, And pay for his cornuting. He is most witty Carintha. Giotto, she is taken with this imprudence, What dulnesse hangs upon her soule? some fatall Appoplexy seise him, that which we Plotted to make him hatefull does inchant her. Madam, you see I have a body, ponderous And full of marrow, Ile not get an heire Lesse hopefull then my selfe, my first sonne shall be An Emperour borne, may I doe things to purpose When I am in once. Will not this startle her? Sure Madam, he will put downe Hercules. Hercules, Hercules, what, a Pedlar. Pedler, my Lord you would say pidler. He shall be what I please, doe not I know Hercules, He got but fifty in a night, but I— Madam your eare. My duty to your grace, makes me forget He is my kinsman. Signior Depazzi, We have leasure to heare you finish your discourse With Laura and Carintha. He's courted to her privacy, her soule is In a deepe Lethargie.