The Three Lords and Three Ladies of London · chunk 15 of 41
Wilson, Robert · published 1590 · first performed or written 1588 [1588-1590] (Annals) moral · Queen Elizabeth's Men (?) T39 Profit, conscience and dishonest dealing typicality 0.79 · 462 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T39: conscience, lucre, usury, lucar, fraud, dissimulation, simony, london, lady, nemo.
Ladies unmasked, blush not for base attire, Here are none but friends and servants all, dear Lady Lucre, Dearer unto us than daily breath we draw from sweetest air; Dearer than life, dearer than heaven itself, Deign to discover those alluring lamps, Those lovely eyes more clear than Venus' Star, Whose bright aspects worlds wonder do produce, unveil I say that, beauty more divine, than Nature (save in thee) did ever paint: that we sworn slaves unto our mistress, may Once more behold those stately lovely looks, And do those duties which us well beseems, Such duties as we all desire to do. I know that tongue Lucre, beware of Fraud. Of Fraud? Indeed by speech it should be he. Fra. what seekest thou Lucre, to honour thee with wit, with worth, with life, with all I have, to be thy servant as I was before, to get thee clothes, and what thou wantest else. No Fraud, farewell, I must be won no more, to keep such servants as I kept before. Sweet Lady Lucre, me thou mayest accept. How art thou called? Simon. I? No, sir, Conscience saith. No Lucre, now beware, false not thy faith, For simony's subject to perpetual curse. As you two have sped, I would desire to speed no worse, Make you a suit, you may chance to speed better: Not I, for of all, my tongue is best known, But if I speak, it shall be to her that was once mine own: Good Lady Love, thou little knowest the grief that I thy friend sustain for thy distress, And less believest what care I have of thee: Look up good Love, and to supply thy wants, Ask what thou wilt, and thou shalt have of me, Of me that joy more in thy liberty, Than in this life our light that comforts me. O gall in honey, serpent in the grass, O bifold fountain of two bitter streams, Dissimulation fed with viper's flesh, Whose words are oiled, whose deeds the darts of death: Thy tongue I know, that tongue that me be guiled, thyself a Devil, madest me a Monster vild. From thee well known, well may I bless myself, dear bought repentance bids me shun thy snare. O happy Love, if now thou can beware. Marie, but hear ye motley-beard, I think this blindfold buzzardly hedge-wench spoke to ye, she knows ye though she see ye not, hark ye, you women, if you'll go to the alehouse, I'll bestow two pots on ye, and we'll get a pair of Cards and some company, and win twenty pots more, for you play the best at a game called smelling of the four knaves that ever I saw. four? soft, yet they have not smelled thee.
seed 43: T41 · seed 44: T39 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Ladies vnmask'd, blush not for base attire, Here are none but friends and seruants all, deer Lady Lucre, Deerer vnto vs than daily breath we draw from sweetest aire; Dearer then life, dearer then heauen it selfe, Deigne to discouer those alluring lampes, Those louely eies more cleare than Venus Star, Whose bright aspectes worlds woonder do produce, Vnueile I say that, beauty more diuine, than Nature (saue in thée) did euer paint: that we sworne slaues vnto our mistrsse, may Once more behold those stately louely lookes, And doo those duties which vs wel beseemes, Such duties as we all desire to doe. I know that tongue Lucre, beware of Fraud. Of Fraud? Indéed by spéech it should be he. Fra. what séekest tho Lucre, to honor thée with wit, with worth, with life, with al I haue, to be thy seruant as I was before, to get thée cloathes, and what thou wantest els. No Fraud, farewell, I must be wonne no more, to keepe such seruants as I kept before. Swéet Lady Lucre, me thou maiest accept. How art thou called? Simon. I? No, sir, Conscience saith. No Lucre, now beware, false not thy faith, For Simoni's subiect to perpetuall curse. As you two haue sped, I would desire to spéed no wors, Make you a suit, you may chance to spéed better: Not I, for of al, my tongue is best knowen, But if I speak, it shal be to her that was once mine own: Good Ladie Loue, thou litle knowest the grief that I thy friend sustaine for thy distresse, And lesse beleeuest what care I haue of thée: Looke vp good Loue, and to supply thy wants, Aske what thou wilt, and thou shalt haue of me, Of me that ioy more in thy libertie, Than in this life our light that comforts me. O gall in hunnie, serpent in the grasse, O bifold fountaine of two bitter streames, Dissimulation fed with Vipers flesh, Whose wordes are oylt, whose déedes the dartes of death: Thy tongue I know, that tongue that me be guil'd, Thy selfe a Deuil, madest me a Monster vild. From thee well knowne, well may I blesse my selfe, Deere bought repentance bids me shun thy snare. O happie Loue, if now thou can beware. Marie, but heare ye motley-beard, I think this blindfold buzzardly hedge-wench spoke to ye, she knowes ye though she see ye not, harke ye, you women, if you'il go to the alehouse, Ile bestow two pts on ye, and we'il get a paire of Carde and some company, and winn twenty pots more, for you play the best at a game call'd smelling of the foure knaues that euer I saw. Foure? soft, yet they haue not smelt thée.