Rawlins, Thomas · published 1640 · first performed or written 1638 [1637-1639] (Annals) tragedy · King's Revels Company unassigned nearest T16 Gallantry: ladies, lordships and complim · 495 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T16: lady, madam, gentleman, lordship, ladies, honour, mistress, sweet, court, servant.
Yes my dear Madam Heaven, whither My most sweet Lady but to Heaven? hell's a tailor's warehouse; he has the Keys, and sits In triumph cross legged o'er the mouth: It is no place of horror. There's no flames made blue with Brimstone; But the bravest silks, so fashionable: O I do long to wear such properties. Leave your talk, One knocks, go see. O 'tis my love. I come. A tailor, fie, blush my too tardy soul, And on my brow place a becoming scorn, Whose fatal sight may kill his mounting hopes. Were he but one that when 'twas said he's borne, Had been borne noble, high, Equal in blood to that our House boasts great; I'd fly into his arms with as much speed, As an air cutting arrow to the stake. But O he comes, my fortitude is fled. Yonder she is and walks, yet in sense strong enough to maintain Argument, she's under my cloak; for the best part of a Lady as this age goes is her Clothes; in what reckoning aught we Tailors to be esteemed then, that are the master workmen to correct nature? You shall have a Lady in a Dialogue with some gallant, touching his Suit, the better part of man, so suck the breath that names the skilful Tailor as if it nourished her. Another Dona fly from the close embracements of her Lord, to be all over measured by her Tailor. One will be sick forsooth, and bid her maid deny her to this Don, that Earl, the other marquess, nay to a Duke; yet let her tailor lace and unlace her gown, so round the skirts to fit her to the fashion: here's one has in my sight made many a noble Don to hang the head, Dukes and Marquesses, three in a morning break their fasts on her denials; yet I, her Tailor, blessed be the kindness of my loving stare, am ushered; she smiles and says I have stayed too long, and then finds fault with some slight stitch, that eyelet hole's too close, then must I use my Bodkin 'twill never please else; all will not do, I must take it home, for no cause but to bring it her again next morning. we Tailors are the men spite o'the Proverb, Ladies cannot live without. It is we That please them best, in their commodity: There's magic in our habits, Tailors can Prevail 'bove him, honour styles best of man. Bid him draw near. Come hither love, sweet chuck My Lady calls. What means this woman? sure she loves me too, Tailors shall speed had they no tongues to woo: Women would sue to them. What have you done it now? Madam your gown by my industry Is purged of errors. Lord what a neat methodical way you have To vent your Phrases; pray when did you commence? What mean you Madam? Doctor I mean, you speak so physical.
seed 43: T5 · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Yes my deare Madam Heaven, whither My most sweet Lady but to Heaven? hell's a Taylors ware-house; he has the Keyes, and sits In triumph crosse legg'd o're the mouth: It is no place of horrour. There's no flames made blew with Brimstone; But the bravest silkes, so fashionable: O I doe long to weare such properties. Leave your talke, One knocks, goe see. O 'tis my love. I come. A Taylor, fye, blush my too tardy soule, And on my brow place a becomming scorne, Whose fatall sight may kill his mounting hopes. Were he but one that when 'twas said hee's borne, Had bin borne noble, high, Equall in blood to that our House boasts great; I'de fly into his armes with as much speed, As an ayre cutting arrow to the stake. But O he comes, my fortitude is fled. Yonder she is and walkes, yet in sence strong enough to maintaine Argument, she's under my cloake; for the best part of a Lady as this age goes is her Clothes; in what reckoning ought we Taylers to be esteem'd then, that are the master workemen to correct nature? You shall have a Lady in a Dialogue with some gallant, touching his Suite, the better part of man, so sucke the breath that names the skilfull Tayler as if it nourisht her. Another Dona fly from the close imbracements of her Lord, to be all over measur'd by her Tayler. One will bee sicke forsooth, and bid her maid deny her to this Don, that Earle, the other Marquesse, nay to a Duke; yet let her Taylor lase and unlase her gowne, so round the skirts to fit her to the fashion: here's one has in my sight made many a noble Don to hang the head, Dukes and Marquesses, three in a morning breake their fasts on her denialls; yet I, her Tayler, blest bee the kindnesse of my loving stare, am usher'd; she smiles and sayes I have staid too long, and then findes fault with some slight stitch, that eye-let holes's too close, then must I use my Bodkin 'twill never please else; all will not doe, I must take it home, for no cause but to bring it her againe next morning. Wee Taylors are the men spight o'the Proverbe, Ladies cannot live without. It is wee That please them best, in their commodity: There's magick in our habits, Taylors can Prevaile 'bove him, honour stiles best of man. Bid him draw neere. Come hither love, sweet chucke My Ladye calls. What meanes this woman? sure she loves me too, Taylors shall speed had they no tongues to wooe: Women wou'd sue to them. What have you done it now? Maddam your gowne by my industry Is purg'd of errours. Lord what a neate methodicall way you have To vent your Phrases; pray when did you commence? What meane you Madam? Doctor I meane, you speake so physicall.