The Magnetic Lady, or Humors Reconciled · chunk 7 of 45
Jonson, Ben · published 1640 · first performed or written 1632 [licensed for stage, Oct 12] (Annals) comedy · King's Men unassigned nearest T11 Siblings, kin and confidants · 498 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T11: sister, brother, love, friend, heart, father, mother, woman, lord, hear.
Sure she is not long lived, if she spend breath thus. And did bequeath her, to my care, and hand, To polish, and bring up. I moulded her, And fashioned her, and formed her; she had the sweat Both of my brows and brains. My Lady knows it Since she could writ a quarter old. I know not That she could writ so early, my good Gossip. But I do know she was so long your care, Till she was twelve year old; that I called for her, And took her home, for which I thank you Polish, And am beholden to you. I sure thought She had a Lease of talking, for nine lives— It may be she has. Sir sixteen thousand pound Was than her portion! for she was, indeed, Their only child! and this was to be paid Upon her marriage, so she married still With my good Ladies liking here, her Aunt: (I heard the Will read) Mr. Steel her father, The world condemned him to be very rich, And very hard, and he did stand condemned With that vain world, till, as 'twas ' proved, after, He left almost as much more to good uses In Sir Moth Interests hands, my Lady's brother, Whose sister he had married: He holds all In his close gripe. But Mr. Steele, was liberal, And a fine man; and she a dainty Dame, And a religious, and a bountiful— You knew her Mr. Compass? Spare the torture, I do confess without it. And her husband, What a fine couple they were? and how they lived? Yes. And loved together, like a pair of Turtles? Yes. And feasted all the Neighbours? Take her of Some body that hath mercy. O he knows her, It seems! Or any measure of compassion: Doctors, if you be Christians, undertake One for the soul, the other for the body! She would dispute with the Doctors of Divinity At her own table! and the Spittle Preachers! And found out the Armenians. The Armenians? I say the Armenians. Nay, I say so too! So Mr. Polish called 'em, the Armenians! And Medes, and Persians', did he not? Yes, he knew 'em, And so did Mistress Steele! she was his Pupil! The Armenians, he would say, were worse than Papists! And than the Persians', were our Puritans, Had the fine piercing wits! And who, the Medes? The middle men, the Lukewarm Protestants? Out, out. Sir she would found them by their branching▪ Their branching sleeves, branched cassocks, and branched doctrine, Beside their Texts. Stint Karlin: I'll not hear, Confute her Parson. I respect no Persons, chaplains, or Doctors, I will speak. Yes, so't be reason, Let her. Death, she cannot speak reason. Nor sense, if we be Masters of our senses! What mad woman ha' they got, here, to bate? Sir I am mad, in truth, and to the purpose; And cannot but be mad; to hear my Ladies Dead sister slighted, witty Mistress Steel!
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)
Sure ſhee is not long liv'd, if ſhe ſpend breath thus. And did bequeath her, to my care, and hand, To poliſh, and bring up. I moulded her, And faſhion'd her, and form'd her; ſhe had the ſweat Both of my browes and braines. My Lady knowes it Since ſhe could write a quarter old. I know not That ſhe could write ſo early, my good Goſſip. But I doe know ſhe was ſo long your care, Till ſhe was twelve yeare old; that I call'd for her, And tooke her home, for which I thanke you Poliſh, And am beholden to you. I ſure thought She had a Leaſe of talking, for nine lives— It may be ſhe has. Sir ſixteene thouſand pound Was then her portion! for ſhe was, indeed, Their only child! and this was to be paid Vpon her marriage, ſo ſhe married ſtill With my good Ladies liking here, her Aunt: (I heard the Will read) Mr. Steele her father, The world condemn'd him to be very rich, And very hard, and he did ſtand condemn'd With that vaine world, till, as 'twas 'prov'd, after, He left almoſt as much more to good uſes In Sir Moath Intereſts hands, my Ladies brother, Whoſe ſiſter he had married: He holds all In his cloſe gripe. But Mr. Steele, was liberall, And a fine man; and ſhe a dainty Dame, And a religious, and a bountifull— You knew her Mr. Compaſſe? Spare the torture, I doe confeſſe without it. And her husband, What a fine couple they were? and how they liv'd? Yes. And lov'd together, like a paire of Turtles? Yes. And feaſted all the Neighbours? Take her off Some body that hath mercy. O he knowes her, It ſeemes! Or any meaſure of compaſſion: Doctors, if you be Chriſtians, undertake One for the ſoule, the other for the body! She would diſpute with the Doctors of Divinity At her owne table! and the Spitle Preachers! And find out the Armenians. The Armenians? I ſay the Armenians. Nay, I ſay ſo too! So Mr. Poliſh calld 'hem, the Armenians! And Medes, and Perſians, did he not? Yes, he knew 'hem, And ſo did Miſtris Steele! ſhe was his Pupill! The Armenians, he would ſay, were worſe then Papiſts! And then the Perſians, were our Puritanes, Had the fine piercing wits! And who, the Medes? The midle men, the Luke-warme Proteſtants? Out, out. Sir ſhe would find them by their branching▪ Their branching ſleeves, brancht caſſocks, and brancht doctrine, Beſide their Texts. Stint Karlin: Ile not heare, Confute her Parſon. I reſpect no Perſons, Chaplins, or Doctors, I will ſpeake. Yes, ſo't be reaſon, Let her. Death, ſhe cannot ſpeake reaſon. Nor ſenſe, if we be Maſters of our ſenſes! What mad woman ha' they got, here, to bate? Sir I am mad, in truth, and to the purpoſe; And cannot but be mad; to heare my Ladies Dead ſiſter ſleighted, witty Mrs. Steele!