Fedele and Fortunia (Two Italian Gentlemen) · chunk 28 of 30
Pasqualigo, Luigi / Munday, Anthony · published 1585 · first performed or written 1584 [1579-1584] (Annals) comedy · Children of the Chapel (first) (Oxford's Boys) · before the Court T49 Wooing a mistress: suitors, go-betweens typicality 0.83 · 496 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T49: mistress, gentleman, love, lady, woman, pray, gentlewoman, hear, honest, way.
I am so fast wrapped in the upper sheet. That I can not get out, I pray you make not such haste, Till you think that the hottest of the broil be past. Stay Captain, lay no hands on me, a Gentleman I am, And will not flit, Woe worth the time that to my house he came. Ottaviano, what's the cause of your lamenting cry? Let's know, hath Sir Fortunio done you any injury? Come quickly man, let's see this Pageant ere it take an end, He that breaks me of my sleep, is none of my friend, Ah wretch that am I alas, and half undone, What strange kind of broil is this that is begun? Is it Fortunio in deed? This is thy treachery, Medusa. Mine, alas good Sir, you do me injury, I grant that after I had brought my young mistress to bed, Feeling the sleep shut up mine eyes, and drooping with my head, I laid me down to take my rest, and so with haste forgot, To lock the doors about the house, and how it comes God wot, I can not tell, but when I fet a nap and woke again, I heard a bustling in the dark, and then did I complain. And cried aloud to you for help, whereat immediately, This Gentleman withdrew himself, and forth began to fly. Master. What sayst thou? Your cake is dough, It kills me to think on it: the greater my woe. This is luck nidget with all my heart, I am glad, that I have somebody to take my part. But oh that my hands were at liberality now to strike, I would set my Gramariner a lesson to pike. Ah Sir Fortunio, use you thus the man that loved you best, Take him, this villainy shall not be turned to a jest. Quiet yourself Ottaviano, sith it is so past, The brute will not be called back so long as life doth last. His punishment makes not your daughter as she was before, But give her unto him to wife, and talk of it no more. His living is as good as yours, make up the match with speed, Need hath no law, I am content, if they be both agreed. Alas I never knew the man, he never touched me yet, I love Fedele, and he alone is for Virginia fit? I'll take no wife at second hand, thanks for your courtesy, Let him that hath possessed your honour, wear the same for me. In every Tennis Court in the world, false play it is found, To take up the Ball at the second rebound. Virginia, if that you can be content, To like of him that loves you in his heart: Give me your hand, and if your mind be bent, To marry me, I never mean to part. My life, and living, more you can not crave, Remaineth yours, do now but ask and have.
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 am so fast wrapt in the vpper shéete. That I can not get out, I pray you make not such haste, Till you thinke that the hottest of the broile be paste. ¶Stay Captaine, lay no handes on me, a Gentleman I am, And will not flitte, ¶Woe worth the time that to my house he came. ¶Ottauiano, what's the cause of your lamenting crye? Let's knowe, hath Sir Fortunio done you any iniurie? ¶Come quickely man, let's sée this Pageant ere it take an ende, ¶He that breaks me of my sléepe, is none of my fréende, ¶Ah wretche that am I alas, and halfe vndone, ¶What strange kinde of broyle is this that is begonne? ¶Is it Fortunio in déede? This is thy treacherie, Medusa. ¶Mine, alas good Sir, you doe me iniurie, I graunt that after I had brought my young mistresse to bed, Féeling the sléepe shut vp mine eyes, and drouping with my head, I laide me downe to take my rest, and so with haste forgot, To locke the doores about the house, and how it comes God wot, I can not tell, but when I fet a nap and wooke againe, I heard a bustling in the darke, and then did I complaine. And cryed aloude to you for helpe, whereat immediatly, This Gentleman withdrewe him selfe, and foorth began to flye. ¶Master. ¶What sayst thou? ¶Your cake is dowe, ¶It killes me to thinke on it: the greater my woe. ¶This is lucke nidget with all my heart, ¶I am glad, that I haue some body to take my part. But oh that my handes were at liberalitie now to strike, I would set my Gramariner a lesson to pike. ¶Ah Sir Fortunio, vse you thus the man that lou'de you best, Take him, this villainie shall not be turned to a iest. ¶Quiet your selfe Ottauiano, sith it is so past, The brute will not be called backe so long as life dooth last. His punishment makes not your daughter as she was before, But giue her vnto him to wife, and talke of it no more. His liuing is as good as yours, make vp the match with speede, ¶Néede hath no lawe, I am content, if they be bothe agréede. ¶Alas I neuer knew the man, he neuer toucht me yet, I loue Fedele, and he alone is for Virginia fit? ¶I'le take no wife at second hande, thankes for your curtesie, Let him that hath possest your honor, weare the same for me. ¶In euery Tennis Court in the world, false play it is found, To take vp the Ball at the second rebound. ¶Virginia, if that you can be content, To like of him that loues you in his heart: Giue me your hand, and if your minde be bent, To marrie me, I neuer meane to parte. My life, and liuing, more you can not craue, Remaineth yours, doe now but aske and haue.