Jonson, Ben · published 1640 · first performed or written 1633 [licensed for stage, May 7] (Annals) comedy · Queen Henrietta Maria's Men unassigned nearest T49 Wooing a mistress: suitors, go-betweens · 496 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T49: mistress, gentleman, love, lady, woman, pray, gentlewoman, hear, honest, way.
Let not the mouse of my good meaning, Lady, Be snapped up in the trap of your suspicion, To lose the tail there, either of her truth, Or swallowed by the Cat of misconstruction. You are too finical form; speak plain Sir. Welcome again my Audrey: welcome Love: You shall with me; in faith deny me not. I cannot brook the second hazard Mistress. Forbear Squire Tub, as mine own mother says; I am not for your mowing. You'll be flown E'er I be fledge. Hast thou the money Miles? Here are two bags, there's fifty pound in each. Nay Audrey, I possess you for this time: Sirs; Take that coin between you, and divide it. My pretty sweeting give me now the leave To challenge love, and marriage at your hands. Now, out upon you, are you not ashamed? What will my Lady say? In faith I think She was at our house: And I think she asked for you: And I think she hit me i' th' teeth with you, I thank her Ladyship, and I think she means Not to go hence, till she has found you. How say you? Was than my Lady Mother at your house? Let's have a word aside. Yes, twenty words. 'Tis strange, a motion, but I know not what, Comes in my mind, to leave the way to Totten, And turn to Kentishtowne, again my journey: And see my son Pol-marten with his Audrey: E'er while we left her at her father's house: And hath he thence removed her in such haste! What shall I do? shall I speak faite, or chide? Madam, your worthy son, with duteous care, Can govern his affections: Rather than Break of their conference some other way, Pretending ignorance of what you know. And this all, fair I am thine. Mine you were once, though scarcely now your own. 'Slid my Lady! my Lady! Is this my Lady bright? Madam, you took me now a little tardy. At prayers, I think you were: what, so devout Of late, that you will shrive you to all Confessors You meet by chance? Come, go with me, good Squire, And leave your linen: I have now a business, And of importance, to impart unto you. Madam, I pray you, spare me but an hour; Please you to walk before, I follow you. It must be now, my business lies this way. Will not an hour hence, Madam, excuse me? Squire, these excuses argue more your guilt. You have some new device now, to project, Which the poor Tileman scarce will thank you for. What? will you go? I ha' ta'en a charge upon me, To see this Maid conducted to her Father, Who, with the Cannon Hugh, stays her at Pancras, To see her married to the same Iohn Clay. 'tis very well; but Squire take you no care. I'll sand Pol-marten with her, for that office. You shall along with me; it is decreed.
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)
Let not the mouſe of my good meaning, Lady, Be ſnap'd up in the trap of your ſuſpition, To looſe the taile there, either of her truth, Or ſwallow'd by the Cat of miſconſtruction. You are too finicall forme; ſpeake plaine Sir. Welcome againe my Awdrey: welcome Love: You ſhall with me; in faith deny me not. I cannot brook the ſecond hazzard Miſtris. Forbeare Squire Tub, as mine owne mother ſayes; I am not for your mowing. Youle be flowne Ere I be fledge. Haſt thou the money Miles? Here are two bags, there's fiftie pound in each. Nay Awdrey, I poſſeſſe you for this time: Sirs; Take that coyne betweene you, and divide it. My pretty ſweeting give me now the leave To challenge love, and marriage at your hands. Now, out upon you, are you not aſham'd? What will my Lady ſay? In faith I thinke She was at our houſe: And I thinke ſhee ask'd for you: And I thinke ſhe hit me i' th' teeth with you, I thanke her Ladiſhip, and I thinke ſhe meanes Not to goe hence, till ſhe has found you. How ſay you? Was then my Lady Mother at your houſe? Let's have a word aſide. Yes, twenty words. 'Tis ſtrange, a motion, but I know not what, Comes in my mind, to leave the way to Totten, And turne to Kentiſh-Towne, againe my journey: And ſee my ſonne Pol-marten with his Awdrey: Ere while we left her at her fathers houſe: And hath he thence remov'd her in ſuch haſte! What ſhall I doe? ſhall I ſpeake faite, or chide? Madam, your worthy ſonne, with dutious care, Can governe his affections: Rather then Breake off their conference ſome other way, Pretending ignorance of what you know. And this all, faire I am thine. Mine you were once, though ſcarcely now your own. 'Slid my Lady! my Lady! Is this my Lady bright? Madam, you tooke me now a little tardie. At prayers, I thinke you were: what, ſo devout Of late, that you will ſhrive you to all Confeſſors You meet by chance? Come, goe with me, good Squire, And leave your linnen: I have now a buſines, And of importance, to impart unto you. Madam, I pray you, ſpare me but an houre; Pleaſe you to walke before, I follow you. It muſt be now, my buſines lies this way. Will not an houre hence, Madam, excuſe me? Squire, theſe excuſes argue more your guilt. You have ſome new device now, to project, Which the poore Tile-man ſcarce will thanke you for. What? will you goe? I ha' tane a charge upon me, To ſee this Maid conducted to her Father, Who, with the Chanon Hugh, ſtaies her at Pancrace, To ſee her married to the ſame Iohn Clay. Tis very well; but Squire take you no care. Ile ſend Pol-marten with her, for that office. You ſhall along with me; it is decreed.