Fletcher, John · published 1640 · first performed or written 1624 [licensed for stage, Oct 19] (Annals) comedy · King's Men unassigned nearest T49 Wooing a mistress: suitors, go-betweens · 489 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T49: mistress, gentleman, love, lady, woman, pray, gentlewoman, hear, honest, way.
You must get a ladder when you would beat This fellow. I cannot choose but kick again, pray pardon me. Hadst thou not asked my pardon, I had killed thee, I leave thee as a thing despised, assoles manus a vostra siniare a Maistre. You have scaped by miracle, there is not in all Spain, A spirit of more fury than this fire drake. I see he is hasty, and I would give him leave, To beat me soundly if he would take my bond. What shall I do with this fellow? Turn him off, He will infect the camp with cowardice, If he go with thee. About some week hence sir, If I can hit upon no abler officer, You shall hear from me. I desire no better. You have made me now too bountiful amends, Lady For your strict carriage when you saw me first, These beauties were not meant to be concealed, It was a wrong to hide so sweet an object, I could now chide ye, but it shall be thus, No other anger ever touch your sweetness. You appear to me so honest, and so civil, Without a blush sir, I dare bid ye welcome. Now let me ask your name. 'tis Estifanie, the heir of this poor place. Poor do you call it, There's nothing that I cast mine eyes upon, But shows both rich and admirable, all the rooms Are hung as if a Princess were to dwell here, The Gardens, Orchards, every thing so curious: Is all that plate your own too? 'tis but little, Only for present use, I have more and richer, When need shall call, or friends compel me use it, The suits you see of all the upper chambers, Are those that commonly adorn the house, I think I have besides, as fair as Seville Or any town in Spain can parallel. Now if she be not married, I have some hopes, Are you a maid? You make me blush to answer, I ever was accounted so to this hour, And that's the reason that I live retired sir. Then would I counsel you to marry presently, If I can get her, I am made for ever, For every year you lose, you lose a beauty, A husband now an honest careful husband, Were such a comfort, will ye walk above stairs. This place will fit our talk, 'tis fitter far sir, Above there are day-beds, and such temptations I dare not trust sir. She is excellent wise withal too. You named a husband, I am not so strict sir, Nor tied unto a virgin's solitariness, But if an honest, and a noble one, Rich, and a soldier, for so I have vowed he shall be, Were offered me, I think I should accept him, But above all he must love. He were base else, There's comfort ministered in the word soldier, How sweetly should I live.
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)
You must get a ladder when you would beat This fellow. I cannot chuse but kick againe, pray pardon mee. Hadst thou not ask'd my pardon, I had killd thee, I leave thee as a thing despis'd, assoles manus a vostra siniare a Maistre. You have scap'd by miracle, there is not in all Spaine, A spirit of more fury then this fire drake. I see he is hasty, and I would give him leave, To beat me soundly if he would take my bond. What shall I doe with this fellow? Turne him off, He will infect the campe with cowardice, If he goe with thee. About some week hence sir, If I can hit upon no abler officer, You shall hear from mee. I desire no better. You have made mee now too bountifull amends, Lady For your strict carriage when you saw me first, These beauties were not meant to be conceal'd, It was a wrong to hide so sweet an object, I coo'd now chide yee, but it shall be thus, No other anger ever touch your sweetnesse. You appeare to mee so honest, and so civill, Without a blush sir, I dare bid yee welcome. Now let mee aske your name. Tis Estifanie, the heire of this poore place. Poore doe you call it, There's nothing that I cast mine eyes upon, But shewes both rich and admirable, all the roomes Are hung as if a Princesse were to dwell here, The Gardens, Orchards, every thing so curious: Is all that plate your owne too? Tis but litle, Only for present use, I have more and richer, When need shall call, or friends compell me use it, The sutes you see of all the upper chambers, Are those that commonly adorne the house, I think I have besides, as faire as civill Or any towne in Spaine can paralell. Now if she be not married, I have some hopes, Are you a maide? You make me blush to answer, I ever was accounted so to this hower, And that's the reason that I live retir'd sir. Then would I counsell you to marry presently, If I can get her, I am made for ever, For every yeare you loose, you loose a beauty, A husband now an honest carefull husband, Were such a comfort, will ye walke above staires. This place will fit our talke, tis fitter farre sir, Above there are day-beds, and such temptations I dare not trust sir. She is excellent wise withall too. You nam'd a husband, I am not so strict sir, Nor ti'de unto a Virgins solitarinesse, But if an honest, and a noble one, Rich, and a souldier, for so I have vowed he shall be, Were offer'd mee, I think I should accept him, But above all he must love. He were base else, There's comfort ministred in the word soldier, How sweetly should I live.