Jonson, Ben · published 1641 · first performed or written 1621 [Aug 3; Aug 5; Sep] (Annals) masque · before the Court T48 Addressing a lady: love, desire and inti typicality 0.76 · 446 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T48: lady, love, heart, fair, eyes, la, lord, tears, fie, face.
Hurl after an old shoe, I'll be merry what ever I do, Though I keep no time, My words shall chime, I'll overtake the sense with a rhyme. Face of a rose I pray thee depose Some small piece of silver: It shall be no loss, But only to make the sign of the cross; If your hand you hollow, Good fortune will follow. I swear by these ten, You shall have it again, I do not say when. But Lady, either I am tipsy, Or you are to fall in love with a Gipsy; Blush not Dame Kate, For early, or late, I do assure you it will be your fate; Nor need you be once ashamed of it Madam, he's as handsome a man, as ever was Adam. A man out of wax, As a Lady would axe; Yet he's not to wed ye: H'has enjoyed you already, And I hope he has sped ye. A dainty young fellow, And though he look yellow, He never will be jealous, But love you most zealous. there's never a line in your hand but doth tell us. And you are a foul so white, and so chaste, A table so smooth, and so newly ra'ste, As nothing called foul, Dare approach with a blot, Or any lest spot; But still you control, Or make your own lot, Preserving love pure as it first was begot: But Dame I must tell ye, The fruit of your belly, Is that you must tender, And care so to tender; That as yourself came In blood, and in name, From one house of fame, So that may remain The glory of twain. YOu sweet Lady have a hand too, And a fortune you may stand too; Both your bravery, and your bounty Style you Mistress of the County; You will find it from this night, Fortune shall forget her spite, And heap all the blessings on you, That she can pour out upon you; To be loved, where most you love, Is the worst that you shall prove; And by him to be embraced, Who so long hath known you chaste, Wise, and fair; whilst you renew Joys to him, and he to you: And when both your years are told, Neither think the other old. MAdam we know of your coming so late, We could not well fit you a nobler fate Than what you have ready made; An old man's wife, Is the light of his life, A young one is but his shade. You will not importune, The change of your fortune; For if you dare trust to my forecasting, 'tis presently good, and will be lasting.
seed 43: T31 · seed 44: T44 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
HUrle after an old ſhooe, Ile be merrie what ever I doe, Though I keepe no time, My words ſhall chyme, Ile over-take the ſenſe with a ryme. Face of a roſe I pray thee depoſe Some ſmall piece of ſilver: It ſhall be no loſſe, But onely to make the ſigne of the croſſe; If your hand you hallow, Good fortune will follow. I ſweare by theſe ten, You ſhall have it agen, I doe not ſay when. But Ladie, either I am tipſie, Or you are to fall in love with a Gipſie; Bluſh not Dame Kate, For early, or late, I doe aſſure you it will be your fate; Nor need you be once aſham'd of it Madam, Hee's as handſome a man, as ever was Adam. A man out of waxe, As a Ladie would axe; Yet hee's not to wed yee: H'has enjoyd you alreadie, And I hope he has ſped yee. A dainty yong fellow, And though he looke yellow, He never will be jealous, But love you moſt zealous. Ther's never a line in your hand but doth tell us. And you are a foule ſo white, and ſo chaſte, A table ſo ſmooth, and ſo newly ra'ſte, As nothing cald foule, Dare approach with a blot, Or any leaſt ſpot; But ſtill you controule, Or make your owne lot, Preſerving love pure as it firſt was begot: But Dame I muſt tell yee, The fruit of your bellie, Is that you muſt tender, And care ſo to render; That as your ſelfe came In blood, and in name, From one houſe of fame, So that may remaine The glory of twaine. YOu ſweet Ladie have a hand too, And a fortune you may ſtand too; Both your brav'ry, and your bounty Stile you Miſtris of the County; You will finde it from this night, Fortune ſhall forget her ſpight, And heape all the bleſſings on you, That ſhe can poure out upon you; To be lov'd, where moſt you love, Is the worſt that you ſhall prove; And by him to be imbrac't, Who ſo long hath knowne you chaſte, Wiſe, and faire; whil'ſt you renew Joyes to him, and he to you: And when both your yeares are told, Neither thinke the other old. MAdam we know of your comming ſo late, We could not well fit you a nobler fate Then what you have readie made; An old mans wife, Is the light of his life, A young one is but his ſhade. You will not importune, The change of your fortune; For if you dare truſt to my forecaſting, T'is preſently good, and will be laſting.