Greene, Robert · published 1630 · first performed or written 1589 [1586-1590] (Annals) comedy · Queen Elizabeth's Men unassigned nearest T15 Friars and holy orders in plot · 492 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T15: friar, lord, holy, friars, robin, peggy, lacie, angelo, love, nun.
Lacie the fool hath laid a perfect plot, For why our Country Marg'ret is so coy, And stands so much upon her honest points, That marriage or no market with the maid: Ermsby, it must be necromantic spells, And charms of Art that must enchain her love, Or else shall Edward never win the girl, Therefore my wags we'll horse us in the morn, And post to Oxford to this jolly friar, Bacon shall by his magic do this deed. Content my Lord, and that's a speedy way To wean these headstrong puppies from the teat. I am unknown, not taken for the Prince, They only deem us frolic Courtiers, That revel thus among our Liege's game: Therefore I have devised a policy, Lacie, thou know'st next Friday is St. Iames, And then the Country flocks to Harlston fair, Then will the keeper's daughter frolic there, And overshine the troop of all the maids, That come to see, and to be seen that day. Haunt thee disguised among the Country swains, fain thouart a farmer's son, not far from thence, Espy her loves, and who she liketh best: Coat him, and court her to control the clown, Say that the Courtier 'tired all in green, That helped her handsomely to run her cheese, And filled her father's lodge with venison, Commends him, and sends fairings to herself, Buy something worthy of her parentage, Not worth her beauty, for Lacie, than the Fair Affords no jewel fitting for the maid: And when thou talkest of me, note if she blush, Oh then she loves, but if her cheeks wax pale, Disdain it is. Lacie, send how she fares, And spare no time nor cost to win her loves. I will, my Lord, so execute this charge, As if that Lacie were in love with her. Send letters speedily to Oxford of the news. And sirrah Lacie, buy me a thousand thousand million of fine bells. What wilt thou do with them, Raphe? marry every time that Ned sighs for the keeper's daughter, I'll tie a bell about him, so within three or four days I will send word to his father Harry, that his son and my master Ned is become Loves Morris dance. Well, Lacie, look with care unto thy charge, And I will haste to Oxford to the friar, That he by Art, and thou by secret gifts, mayst make me Lord of merry Fressingfield. God send your Honour your hearts desire. Miles, where are you? Hic sum doctissime & reverendissime Doctor. Attulisti nos libros meos de Necromantia. Ecce quam bonum & quam incundum habitare libros in vnum. Now Masters of our Academic State, That rule in Oxford Viceroys in your place, Whose heads contain Maps of the liberal Arts, Spending your time in depth of learned skill, Why flock you thus to Bacon's secret Cell, A friar newly stalled in Brazen-nose, Say what's your mind, that I may make reply.
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)
Lacie the foole hath laid a perfect plot, For why our Country Margret is ſo coy, And ſtands ſo much vpon her honeſt points, That marriage or no market with the mayd: Ermsby, it muſt be nigromanticke ſpels, And charmes of Art that muſt inchaine her loue, Or elſe ſhall Edward neuer win the girle, Therefore my wags we'le horſe vs in the morne, And poaſt to Oxford to this iolly Fryer, Bacon ſhall by his magicke doe this deed. Content my Lord, and thats a ſpeedy way To weane theſe head-ſtrong puppies from the teat. I am vnknowne, not taken for the Prince, They onely deeme vs frolicke Courtiers, That reuell thus among our Lieges game: Therefore I haue deuiſed a policy, Lacie, thou knowſt next Friday is St. Iames, And then the Country flockes to Harlſton faire, Then will the Keepers daughter frolicke there, And ouer-ſhine the troupe of all the maides, That come to ſee, and to be ſeene that day. Haunt thee diſguis'd among the Countrie ſwaines, Faine th'art a Farmers ſonne, not farre from thence, Eſpie her loues, and who ſhe liketh beſt: Coat him, and court her to controle the clowne, Say that the Courtier tyred all in greene, That helpt her handſomly to run her cheeſe, And fild her fathers lodge with veniſon, Commends him, and ſends fairings to her ſelfe, Buy ſomething worthy of her parentage, Not worth her beauty, for Lacie, then the Faire Affords no Iewell ſitting for the mayd: And when thou talkeſt of me, note if ſhe bluſh, Oh then ſhe loues, but if her cheekes waxe pale, Diſdaine it is. Lacie, ſend how ſhe fares, And ſpare no time nor coſt to win her loues. I will, my Lord, ſo execute this charge, As if that Lacie were in loue with her. Send letters ſpeedily to Oxford of the newes. And ſirra Lacie, buy me a thouſand thouſand million of fine bells. What wilt thou doe with them, Raphe? Mary euery time that Ned ſighs for the Keepers daughter, Ile tye a bell about him, ſo within three or foure dayes I will ſend word to his father Harry, that his ſonne and my maſter Ned is become Loues Morris dance. Well, Lacie, looke with care vnto thy charge, And I will haſte to Oxford to the Fryer, That he by Art, and thou by ſecret gifts, Maiſt make me Lord of merry Freſingfield. God ſend your Honour your hearts deſire. Miles, where are you? Hic ſum doctiſſime & reuerendiſſime Doctor. Attuliſti nos libros meos de Necromantia. Ecce quam bonum & quam incundum habitare libros in vnum. Now Maſters of our Academick State, That rule in Oxford Vice-roies in your place, Whoſe heads containe Maps of the liberall Arts, Spending your time in depth of learned skill, Why flocke you thus to Bacons ſecret Cell, A Fryer newly ſtalde in Brazennoſe, Say whats your minde, that I may make reply.