Brome, Richard · published 1640 · first performed or written 1638 [1636-1638] (Annals) not in BritDrama · Salisbury Court T32 Rings and jewels as tokens typicality 0.82 · 503 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T32: ring, ti, gave, finger, jewel, lady, lord, love, invisible, away.
She must if you can hope for any cure, Be governed Sir: your jealousy will grow A worse disease than your son's madness else, You are content I take the course I told you of To cure the gentleman. I must be Sir. Say Master Peregrine, will you travail now With me to the Antipodes, or has not The journey wearied you in the description. No I could hear you a whole fortnight, but Let's lose no time, pray talk on as we pass. First, Sir a health to auspicate our travails, And we'll away. Gi' me't. What's he? One sent I fear from my dead mother, to make stop Of our intended voyage. No Sir: drink. My Lord, Sir understands the course you're in, By your letters he tells me; and bade me gi' you This Ring, which wants a finger here he says we'll not be stayed. No Sir, he brings me word The Mariner calls away; the wind and tide Are fair, and they are ready to weigh anchor, Hoist sails, and only stay for us, pray drink Sir. A health then to the willing winds and seas, And all that steer towards th' Antipodes. He has not drunk so deep a draught this twelvemonth. 'tis a deep draught indeed, and now 'tis down, And carries him down to the Antipodes? I mean but in a dream. Alas I fear. See he begins to sink. Trust to my skill, Pray take an arm, and see him in his cabin. Good Lady save my Ring that's fallen there. In sooth a marvelous neat and costly one So, so, the Ring has found a finger. Come sir, aboard, aboard, aboard, aboard. To bed, to bed, to bed: I know your voyage, And my dear Lords dear plot, I understand, Whose Ring hath passed here by your flight of hand. tonight sayest thou my Hughball? By all means, And if your Play takes to my expectation, As I not doubt my potion works to yours, Your fancy and my cure shall be cried up Miraculous. O you're the Lord of fancy. I'm not ambitious of that title Sir, No, the Letoy's are of Antiquity, Ages before the fancies were begot, And shall beget still new to the world's end. But are you confident o' your potion doctor? Sleeps the young man? Yes, and has slept these twelve hours, After a thousand mile an hour outright, By sea and land; and shall awake anon In the Antipodes. Well Sir my Actors Are all in readiness; and I think all perfect, But one, that never will be perfect in a thing He studies; yet he makes such shifts extempore, (Knowing the purpose what he is to speak to) That he moves mirth in me 'bove all the rest. For I am none of those Poetic furies, That threats the actor's life, in a whole play, That adds a syllable, or takes away. If he can fribble through, and move delight In others, I am pleased.
nodes 682–750 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 11 of 44 in this edition
Length
503 words · 666 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T32 — Rings and jewels as tokenscross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.824 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
seed 43: T33 · seed 44: T32 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
She must if you can hope for any cure, Be govern'd Sir: your jealousie will grow A worse disease then your sonnes madnesse else, You are content I take the course I told you of To cure the gentleman. I must be Sir. Say Master Perigrine, will you travaile now With mee to the Antipodes, or has not The journey wearied you in the description. No I could heare you a whole fortnight, but Let's loose no time, pray talke on as we passe. First, Sir a health to auspicate our travailes, And wee'll away. Gi' mee't. What's he? One sent I feare from my dead mother, to make stop Of our intended voyage. No Sir: drink. My Lord, Sir understands the course y'are in, By your letters he tells mee; and bad me gi' you This Ring, which wants a finger here he sayes Wee'll not be stayd. No Sir, he brings me word The Marriner calls away; the winde and tyde Are faire, and they are ready to weigh anchor, Hoyst sayles, and onely stay for us, pray drinke Sir. A health then to the willing winds and seas, And all that steere towards th' Antipodes. He has not drunke so deepe a draught this twelvmonth. Tis a deepe draught indeed, and now tis downe, And carries him downe to the Antipodes? I meane but in a dreame. Alasse I feare. See he beginnes to sink. Trust to my skll, Pray take an arme, and see him in his cabbin. Good Lady save my Ring that's fallen there. In sooth a mervailous neate and costly one So, so, the Ring has found a finger. Come sir, aboord, aboord, aboord, aboord. To bed, to bed, to bed: I know your voyage, And my deare Lords deare plot, I understand, Whose Ring hath past here by your flight of hand. TO night saiest thou my Hughball? By all meanes, And if your Play takes to my expectation, As I not doubt my potion workes to yours, Your fancy and my cure shall be cry'd up Miraculous. O y'are the Lord of fancy. I'm not ambitious of that title Sir, No, the Letoy's are of Antiquity, Ages before the fancyes were begot, And shall beget still new to the worlds end. But are you confident o' your potion doctor? Sleeps the young man? Yes▪ and has slept these twelve houres, After a thousand mile an houre out-right, By sea and land; and shall awake anone In the Antipodes. Well Sir my Actors Are all in readinesse; and I thinke all perfect, But one, that never will be perfect in a thing He studies; yet he makes such shifts extempore, (Knowing the purpose what he is to speak to) That he moves mirth in me 'bove all the rest. For I am none of those Poeticke furies, That threats the Actors life, in a whole play, That addes a sillable, or takes away. If he can frible through, and move delight In others, I am pleas'd.