Rawlins, Thomas · published 1640 · first performed or written 1638 [1637-1639] (Annals) tragedy · King's Revels Company unassigned nearest T50 Fleets, armies and generals: war by sea · 494 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T50: sea, honour, general, soldiers, men, ship, fight, soldier, king, vittori.
O good Colonel be more a Soldier, Leave compliments for those that live at ease, To stuff their Table Books; and o'er a board, Made gaudy with some Pageant, beside custards, Whose quaking strikes a fear into the eaters, Dispute 'em in a fashionable method. A soldiers' language should be as his calling, (Ruff) to declare he is a man of fire. Farewell without the straining of a sinew, No superstitious cringe; adieu is't not a hopeful Lord? Nature to him has chained the people's hearts; Each to his Saint offers a form of prayer For young Antonio. And in that loved name pray for the Kingdoms good. Count Machiavel. Let's away. Heart wilt not burst with rage, to see these slaves Fawn like to whelps on young Antonio, And fly from me as from infection? Death, Confusion, and the list of all diseases, wait upon your lives Till you be ripe for Hell; which when it gapes May it devour you all: stay Machvile, Leave this same idle chat, it becomes woman That has no strength; but what her tongue Makes a Monopoly, be more a man, Think, think; in thy brains mint Coin all thy thoughts to mischief: That may act revenge at full. Plot, plot, tumultuous thoughts, incorporate; Beget a lump howe'er deformed, that may at length Like to a Cub licked by the careful Dam, Become like to my wishes perfect vengeance. Antonio, I Antonio; nay all Rather than lose my will, shall headlong fall Into eternal ruin; my thoughts are high, Death sit upon my brow; let every frown, Banish a soul that stops me of a crown. The tailor yet returned Nurse? Madam not yet. I wonder why he makes gowns so imperfect They need so many says. Truly, insooth, and in good deed la Madam The stripling is in love deep, deep in love. Ha, Does his soul shoot with an equal Dart From the commanding Bow of love's great God, Keep passionate time with mine? or has She spied my error to reflect with eager beams Of thirsty love upon a tailor, being myself Borne high?— I must know more. In love good Nurse; with whom? Hey-hoe, truly madam 'tis a fortune, Cupid good lad, praised be his godhead for't Has thrown upon me, and I am proud on't; O 'tis a youth jocund as sprightly May, One that will do discreetly with a wife, Board her without direction from the stars, Or counsel from the Moon to do for Physic; No, he's a back;— O 'tis a back indeed. Fie this becomes you not. Besides, he is of all that conquering Calling, A tailor madam; O 'tis a taking Trade: What Chambermaid, with reverence may I speak, of those lost Maiden heads, Could long hold out against a tailor? You're uncivil. What aged Female, for I must confess I am Worn threadbare, would not be turned and live a marriage life To purchase Heaven? Heaven—
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)
O good Colonell be more a Souldier, Leave complements for those that live at ease, To stuffe their Table Bookes; and o're a bord, Made gaudy with some Pageant, beside custards, Whose quaking strikes a feare into the eaters, Dispute 'em in a fashionable method. A Souldiers language should be as his calling, (Ruffe) to declare he is a man of fire. Farewell without the straining of a sinew, No superstitious cringe; adue I'st not a hopefull Lord? Nature to him has chain'd the peoples hearts; Each to his Saint offers a forme of prayer For yong Antonio. And in that loved name pray for the Kingdoms good. Count Matchvill. Let's away. Heart wilt not burst with rage, to see these slaves Fawne like to whelpes on yong Antonio, And fly from me as from infection? Death, Confusion, and the list of all deseases, waite upon your lives Till you be ripe for Hell; which when it gapes May it devoure you all: stay Machvile, Leave this same idle chat, it becomes woman That has no strength; but what her tongue Makes a Monopoly, be more a man, Thinke, thinke; in thy braines minte Coyne all thy thoughts to mischiefe: That may act revenge at full. Plot, plot, tumultious thoughts, incorporate; Beget a lumpe how e're deform'd, that may at length Like to a Cub lick'd by the carefull Dam, Become like to my wishes perfect vengeance. Antonio, I Antonio; nay all Rather then loose my will, shall head-long fall Into eternall ruine; my thoughts are high, Death sit upon my brow; let every frowne, Banish a soule that stops me of a crowne. The Taylor yet return'd Nurse? Madam not yet. I wonder why he makes gownes so imperfect They need so many sayes. Truely, insooth, and in good deed law Madam The stripling is in love deepe, deepe in love. Ha, Does his soule shoote with an equall Dart From the commanding Bow of loves great God, Keepe passionate time with mine? or has She spy'd my errour to reflect with eager beames Of thirsty love upon a Taylor, being my selfe Borne high?—I must know more. In love good Nurse; with whom? Hey-hoe, truely madam 'tis a fortune, Cupid good lad, prais'd be his god-head for't Has throwne upon me, and I am proud on't; O 'tis a youth joccond as sprightly May, One that will doe discreetly with a wife, Bord her without direction from the stars, Or counsell from the Moone to doe for Physicke; No, he's a backe;—O 'tis a backe indeed. Fye this becomes you not. Besides, he is of all that conquering Calling, A Taylor madam; O 'tis a taking Trade: What Chamber-maid, with reverence may I speake, of those lost Maiden heads, Could long hold out against a Taylor? Y'are uncivill. What aged Female, for I must confesse I am Worne threed-bare, would not be turn'd and live a marriage life To purchase Heaven? Heaven—