The Magnetic Lady, or Humors Reconciled · chunk 35 of 45
Jonson, Ben · published 1640 · first performed or written 1632 [licensed for stage, Oct 12] (Annals) comedy · King's Men T27 Uncles, nephews and cousins: kinship and typicality 0.76 · 505 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T27: uncle, niece, nephew, gentlemen, faith, cousin, wife, house, gentleman, money.
Not more rehearsals; Repetitions Make things the worse: The more we stir (you know The Proverb, and it signifies a) stink. What's done, and dead, let it be buried. New hours will fit fresh handles, to new thoughts. Run to the Church, Sirrah. Get all the Drunkards To ring the Bells, and jangle them for joy My Niece hath brought an Heir unto the house, A lusty boy. Where's my sister Loadstone? A sleep at afternoons! It is not wholesome; Against all rules of Physic, Lady sister. The little Doctor will not like it. Our Niece Is new delivered of a chopping Child, Can call the Father by the name already, If it but open the mouth round. Mr. Compass, He is the man, they say, fame gives it out, Hath done that Act of honour to our house, And friendship to pomp out a Son, and Heir, That shall inherit nothing, surely nothing From me at lest. I come t' invite your Ladyship To be a witness; I will be your Partner, And give it a horne-spoone, and a treene dish; Bastard, and Beggars badges, with a blanket For Dame the Doxy to march round the Circuit, With bag, and baggage. Thou malicious Knight, Envious Sir Moth, that eats on that which feeds thee, And frets her goodness, that sustains thy being; What company of Mankind would own thy brotherhood, But as thou hast a title to her blood, Whom thy ill nature hath chose out t'insult on, And vex thus, for an Accident in her house, As if it were her crime! Good innocent Lady, Thou show'st thyself a true corroding Vermin, Such as thou art. Why, gentle Mr. Compass? Because I wish you joy of your young Son, And Heir to the house, you ha' sent us? I ha' sent you? I know not what I shall do. Come in friends: Madam, I pray you be pleased to trust yourself Unto our company. I did that too late; Which brought on this calamity upon me, With all the infamy I hear; your Soldier, That swaggering Guest. Who is returned here to you, Your vowed friend, and servant; comes to sup with you, So we do all; and 'll prove he hath deserved, That special respect, and favour from you, As not your fortunes, with yourself to boot, Cast on a Featherbed, and spread o'th' sheets Under a brace of your best Persian Carpets, Were scarce a price to thank his happy merit. What impudence is this? can you endure To hear it sister? Yes, and you shall hear it; Who will endure it worse. What deserves he In your opinion, Madam, or weighed Judgement, That, things thus hanging (as they do in doubt) Suspended, and suspected, all involved, And wrapped in error, can resolve the knot? Redintigrate the fame, first of your house? Restore your Ladyship's quiet? tender than Your Niece a Virgin, and unvitiated? And make all plain, and perfect (as it was) A practice to betray you, and your name?
seed 43: T39 · seed 44: T37 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
No more rehearſals; Repetitions Make things the worſe: The more wee ſtirre (you know The Proverbe, and it ſignifies a) ſtink. What's done, and dead, let it be buried. New houres will fit freſh handles, to new thoughts. Run to the Church, Sirrah. Get all the Drunkards To ring the Bels, and jangle them for joy My Neice hath brought an Heire unto the houſe, A luſty boy. Where's my ſiſter Loadſtone? A ſleepe at afternoones! It is not wholeſome; Againſt all rules of Phyſick, Lady ſiſter. The little Doctor will not like it. Our Neice Is new deliver'd of a chopping Child, Can call the Father by the name already, If it but ope the mouth round. Mr. Compaſſe, He is the man, they ſay, fame gives it out, Hath done that Act of honour to our houſe, And friendſhip to pompe out a Sonne, and Heire, That ſhall inherit nothing, ſurely nothing From me at leaſt. I come t' invite your Ladiſhip To be a witneſſe; I will be your Partner, And give it a horne-ſpoone, and a treene diſh; Baſtard, and Beggars badges, with a blanket For Dame the Doxey to march round the Circuit, With bag, and baggage. Thou malitious Knight, Envious Sir Moath, that eates on that which feeds thee, And frets her goodneſſe, that ſuſtaines thy being; What company of Mankind would owne thy brother-hood, But as thou haſt a title to her blood, Whom thy ill nature hath choſe out t'inſult on, And vexe thus, for an Accident in her houſe, As if it were her crime! Good innocent Lady, Thou ſhew'ſt thy ſelfe a true corroding Vermine, Such as thou art. Why, gentle Mr. Compaſſe? Becauſe I wiſh you joy of your young Sonne, And Heire to the houſe, you ha' ſent us? I ha' ſent you? I know not what I ſhall doe. Come in friends: Madam, I pray you be pleas'd to truſt your ſelfe Vnto our company. I did that too late; Which brought on this calamity upon me, With all the infamy I heare; your Souldier, That ſwaggering Gueſt. Who is return'd here to you, Your vowed friend, and ſervant; comes to ſup with you, So wee doe all; and 'll prove he hath deſerv'd, That ſpeciall reſpect, and favour from you, As not your fortunes, with your ſelfe to boote, Caſt on a Feather-bed, and ſpread o'th' ſheets Vnder a brace of your beſt Perſian Carpets, Were ſcarce a price to thanke his happy merit. What impudence is this? can you indure To heare it ſiſter? Yes, and you ſhall heare it; Who will indure it worſe. What deſerves he In your opinion, Madam, or weigh'd Judgement, That, things thus hanging (as they doe in doubt) Suſpended, and ſuſpected, all involv'd, And wrapt in errour, can reſolve the knot? Redintigrate the fame, firſt of your houſe? Reſtore your Ladiſhips quiet? render then Your Neice a Virgin, and unvitiated? And make all plaine, and perfect (as it was) A practiſe to betray you, and your name?