Porter, Henry · published 1599 · first performed or written 1598(?) (Annals) comedy · Admiral's (Nottingham's) Men unassigned nearest T49 Wooing a mistress: suitors, go-betweens · 505 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T49: mistress, gentleman, love, lady, woman, pray, gentlewoman, hear, honest, way.
Nay, she might stay, I will not long be here To trouble her: well master Barnes, I am sorry that it was our haps today, To have our pleasures parted with this fray, I am sorry too for all that is amiss, Especially that you are moved in this, But be not so, 't's but a woman's jar, Their tongues are weapons, words their blows of war, 'twas but a while we buffeted you saw, And each of us was willing to withdraw, There was no harm nor bloodshed you did see: Tush, fear us not, for we shall well agree: I take my leave sir, come kind hearted man, That speaks his wife so fair, I now and than, I know you would not for an hundredth pound, That I should hear your voices churlish sound, I know you have a far more milder tune Than peace, be quiet wife, but I have done: Will ye go home? the door directs the way, But if you will not, my duty is to stay. Ha, ha, why here's a right woman, is there not? They both have dined, yet see what stomachs they have. Well master Barnes, we cannot do with all, Let us be friends still. O master Goursey, the metal of our minds, Having the temper of true reason in them, Affords a better edge of argument, For the maintain of our familiar loves, Than the soft leaden wit of women can, Wherefore with all the parts of neighbour love, I impart myself to master Goursey. And with exchange of love I do receive it, Then here we'll part partners of two cursed wives. Oh where shall we find a man so blessed that is not, But come, your business and my home affairs, Makes me deliver that unfriendly word 'mongst friends, farewell. twenty farewells sir. But hark ye master Goursey, Look ye persuade at home as I will do, What man, we must not always have them soes. If I can help it. God help, God help, Women are even untoward creatures still. Come on Frank Goursey, you have good luck to win the game. Why tell me, be't not good, that never played before upon your green. 'tis good, but that it cost me ten good crowns that makes it worse. Let it not grieve thee man, come over to us, We will devise some game to make you win Your money back again sweet Philip. And that shall be ere long and if I live, But tell me Francis, what good Horses have ye to hunt this Summer? Two or three jades, or so. Be they but jades? No faith my wag string here Did founder one the last time that he rid, The best grey Nag that ever I laid my leg over. You mean the flea bitten. Good sir the same. And was the same the best that ere you rid on? I was it sir. i'faith it was not sir. No, where had I one so good?
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)
Nay, she might stay, I will not long be heere To trouble her: well maister Barnes, I am sorry that it was our happes to day, To haue our pleasures parted with this fray, I am sorrie too for all that is amisse, Especially that you are moou'de in this, But be not so, t's but a womans iarre, Their tongues are weapons, words their blowes of warre, T'was but a while we buffeted you saw, And each of vs was willing to withdraw, There was no harme nor bloudshed you did see: Tush, feare vs not, for we shall well agree: I take my leaue sir, come kinde harted man, That speakes his wife so faire, I now and than, I know you would not for an hundreth pound, That I should heare your voyces churlish sound, I know you haue a farre more milder tune Then peace, be quiet wife, but I haue done: Will ye go home? the doore directs the way, But if you will not, my dutie is to stay. Ha, ha, why heres a right woman, is there not? They both haue din'de, yet see what stomacks they haue. Well maister Barnes, we cannot do with all, Let vs be friends still. O maister Goursey, the mettell of our minds, Hauing the temper of true reason in them, Affoordes a better edge of argument, For the maintaine of our familiar loues, Then the soft leaden wit of women can, Wherefore with all the parts of neighbour loue, I impart my selfe to maister Goursey. And with exchange of loue I do receiue it, Then here weel part partners of two curst wiues. Oh where shall we find a man so blest that is not, But come, your businesse and my home affaires, Makes me deliuer that vnfriendly worde mongst friends, farewell. Twentie farewels sir. But harke ye maister Goursey, Looke ye perswade at home as I will do, What man, we must not alwayes haue them soes. If I can helpe it. God helpe, God helpe, Women are euen vntoward creatures still. Come on Franke Goursey, you haue good lucke to winne the game. Why tell me, ist not good, that neuer playd before vpon your greene. Tis good, but that it cost me ten good crownes that makes it worse. Let it not greeue thee man, come ore to vs, We will deuise some game to make you win Your money backe againe sweet Philip. And that shall be ere long and if I liue, But tell me Francis, what good Horses haue yee to hunt this Sommer? Two or three Iades, or so. Be they but Iades? No faith my wag string here Did founder one the last time that he rid, The best gray Nag that euer I laid my leg ouer. You meane the flea bitten. Good sir the same. And was the same the best that ere you rid on? I was it sir. I faith it was not sir. No, where had I one so good?