Brome, Richard · published 1640 · first performed or written 1638 [1636-1638] (Annals) not in BritDrama · Salisbury Court unassigned nearest T16 Gallantry: ladies, lordships and complim · 474 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T16: lady, madam, gentleman, lordship, ladies, honour, mistress, sweet, court, servant.
I use small verbal courtesy Mr. joyless (You see) but what I can in deed i'll do. You know the purpose of your coming, and I can but give you welcome. If your son Shall receive ease in't, be the comfort yours, The credit of't my Doctors. You are sad. My Lord I would entreat we may return; I fear my wife's not well. Return I pray slight not so my courtesy. Besides sir I am well; and have a mind (A thankful one) to taste my Lords free bounty. I never saw a play, and would be loath To lose my longing now. The air of London Hath tainted her obedience already: And should the Play but touch the vices of it, She'd learn and practise 'em. Let me beseech Your Lord ships reacceptance of the un- Merited favour that she wears here, and Your leave for our departure. I will not Be so dishonoured; nor become so ill A master of my house, to let a Lady Leave it against her will; and from her longing; I will be plain wi'ye therefore: If your haste Must needs post you away, you may depart, She shall not not till the morning for mine honour. Indeed 'tis a high point of honour in A Lord to keep a private Gentleman's wife From him. I love this plain Lord better than All the brave gallant ones, that ere I dreamt on. 'tis time we take our seats. So if you'll stay. Come sit with us, if not, you know your way. Here are we fallen through the doctor's fingers. Into the Lords hands. Fate deliver us. Now the last minute of his sleeping fit Determines. Raise him on his feet. So, so: Rest him upon mine Arm. Remove that Chair, Welcome ashore Sir in th' Antipodes. Are we arrived so far? And on firm land. Sailors you may return now to your ship. What worlds of lands and Seas have I passed over, Neglecting to set down my observations, A thousand thousand things remarkable Have slipped my memory, as if all had been Mere shadowy phantasms, or Fantastic dreams. We'll write as we return Sir: and 'tis true, You slept most part o' th' journey hitherward, The air was so somniferous: And 'twas well You scaped the Calenture by't. But how long do you think I slept? Eight months, and some odd days, Which was but as so many hours and minutes Of one's own natural Country sleep. Eight Months— 'twas nothing for so young a Brain. How think you one of the seven Christian Champions, David by name, slept seven years in a Leek-bed. I think I have read it in their famous History. But what chief thing of note now in our Travels Can you call presently to mind? Speak like a Traveller.
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)
I use small verball courtesie Mr. Ioylesse (You see) but what I can in deed ile doe. You know the purpose of your comming, and I can but give you welcome. If your sonne Shall receive ease in't, be the comfort yours, The credit of't my Doctors. You are sad. My Lord I would entreat we may returne; I feare my wife's not well. Returne I pray slight not so my courtesie. Besides sir I am well; and have a minde (A thankfull one) to taste my Lords free bounty. I never saw a play, and would be loath To lose my longing now. The aire of London Hath tainted her obedience already: And should the Play but touch the vices of it, She'd learne and practise 'hem. Let me beseech Your Lord ships reacceptance of the un- Merited favour that she weares here, and Your leave for our departure. J will not Be so dishonoured; nor become so ill A master of my house, to let a Lady Leave it against her will; and from her longing; J will be plaine wi'yee therefore: If your haste Must needs post you away, you may depart, She shall not not till the morning for mine honour. Indeed tis a high poynt of honour in A Lord to keepe a private Gentlemans wife From him. J love this plaine Lord better than All the brave gallant ones, that ere I dream't on. Tis time we take our seats. So if you'll stay. Come sit with us, if not, you know your way. Here are we fallen through the Doctors fingers. Into the Lords hands. Fate deliver us. Now the last minute of his sleeping fit Determines. Raise him on his feete. So, so: Rest him upon mine Arme. Remove that Chaire, Welcome a shore Sir in th' Antipodes. Are we arriv'd so farre? And on firme land. Sailers you may returne now to your ship. What worlds of lands and Seas have I past over, Neglecting to set downe my observations, A thousand thousand things remarkable Have slipt my memory, as if all had beene Meere shadowy phantasmes, or Phantasticke dreames. We'll write as we returne Sir: and tis true▪ You slept most part o' th' journey hitherward, The aire was so somniferous: And twas well You scap'd the Calenture by't. But how long doe you thinke I slept? Eight moneths, and some odde dayes, Which was but as so many houres and minutes Of ones owne naturall Country sleepe. Eight Moneths — Twas nothing for so young a Braine. How thinke you one of the seven Christian Champions, David by name, slept seven yeares in a Leek-bed. I thinke I have read it in their famous History. But what chiefe thing of note now in our Travells Can you call presently to mind? Speake like a Traveller.