Jack Drum's Entertainment (Katherine and Pasquil) · chunk 13 of 32
Marston, John · published 1601 · first performed or written 1600 (Annals) comedy · Children of Paul's (second) unassigned nearest T41 Household service: masters, doors and po · 496 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T41: master, house, door, iohn, old, mistress, basket, lord, gentleman, ick.
What harsh uncivil tongue keeps such a coil? Winifrid 'tis I. Tell my sweet Duck I am here, Now mark Ned Planet, now observe her well. she wonders at your rudeness that intrudes Upon the quiet of her morning's rest, And she's amazed, that with such impudence You dare presume to intimate some love to her, As if she knew you more than for a youth, A younger brother, and a stipendiary. Now mark Ned Planet, now observe her kindness. Good morrow M. Iohn. As the Country maid crieth to her Cow to milk her, or as the travailer knocketh with his Hosts for a reckoning, even so do I call to thee o Mistress. Sweet Iohn my Love, here's thy Camelia: Hold wear this favour, with this kiss upon't. Flesh and blood cannot bear such disgrace. Help, help, help, help, he boxes me that he doth. Help, help. What outrage have we here so early up? Sir you do wrong the quiet of my house. i'faith you do, and 'tis but rudely done, Go too 'tis not. Is this a place to brawl? And please thee knight, I'll tell thee faith & troth. What did he strike thee sweet? I in good deed la, and a my conscience, I think he hath made my nose bleed. And would not you draw your weapon out, and to it lustily, as long as you could stand? I do not use to draw. Did he give thee a box on the ear, and wouldst thou take it? And he be such a fool to give it me, why should not I be so wise as to take it. Pure honesty, kind Duck, kiss me sweet Iohn. Heart Sir Edward, will you suffer this? Now on my life she is enamoured on the fools babble. Go too sir boy forbear, you wrong my Love, And you forget yourself to use such jests, Such nasty ribaldry upon my daughter: I tell you M. Brabant, doth she love Any that meriteth the name of man? Why he's no man, but a very— Well, well, no more; my house, myself, my love, Opens their hearts with liberal embrace To entertain your presence: I or any man's So they'll be civil, modest, not profane, Not like to those that make it their chief grace, To be quite graceless. Well said honest knight, We have had blood enough today already: Ned Pasquil's slain by bloody murdering Rogues. Speak softly, God forbid, my daughter hears, Tell me the circumstance, I pray you Sir. Eternal death unto my happiness, My Pasquil slain? Oh God, oh God, oh God. ay, and I think the Usurer made a Tent Even of his nose it was so red and near: God for his mercy, what mischance is here? A good youth, a virtuous modest youth, i'faith he was. And I can tell your sir, My daughter Katherine, where is she now? Whither's she gone? Drum call her hither strait.
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)
What harsh vnciuil tongue keeps such a coile? Winifride tis I. Tell my sweet Duck I am here, Now marke Ned Planet, now obserue her well. Shee wonders at your rudenesse that intrudes Vpon the quiet of her mornings rest, And shee's amaz'de, that with such impudence You dare presume to intimate some loue to her, As if she knew you more then for a youth, A yonger brother, and a stipendary. Now mark Ned Planet, now obserue her kindnes. Good morrow M. Iohn. As the Countrey mayd crieth to her Cowe to milke her, or as the Trauailer knocketh with his Hostes for a reckning, euen so do I call to thee ô Mistris. Sweet Iohn my Loue, heer's thy Camelia: Hold weare this fauour, with this kisse vppont. Flesh and blood cannot beare such disgrace. Helpe, helpe, helpe, helpe, he boxes mee that hee doth. Helpe, helpe. What outrage haue we here so early vp? Sir you do wrong the quiet of my house. I faith you do, and tis but rudely done, Go too tis not. Is this a place to brawle? And please thee knight, I'le tell thee faith & troth. What did he strike thee sweet? I in good deed law, and a my conscience, I thinke he hath made my nose bleede. And would not you draw your weapon out, and to it lustily, as long as you could stand? I do not vse to drawe. Did he giue thee a box on the eare, and wouldst thou take it? And he be such a foole to giue it me, why should not I be so wise as to take it. Pure honestie, kinde Ducke, kisse me sweet Iohn. Hart Sir Edward, will you suffer this? Now on my life she is enamord on the fooles bable. Go too sir boy forbear, you wrong my Loue, And you forget your selfe to vse such Iests, Such nastie rybauldry vpon my daughter: I tell you M. Brabant, doth she loue Any that meriteth the name of man? Why hee's no man, but a very— Well, well, no more; my house, my self, my loue, Opens their hearts with liberall imbrace To entertaine your presence: I or any mans So they'le be ciuile, modest, not prophane, Not like to those that make it their chiefe grace, To be quite graceles. Well said honest knight, We haue had blood enough to day alreadie: Ned Pasquil's slaine by bloodie murdering Rogues. Speak softly, God forbid, my daughter heares, Tell me the circumstance, I pray you Sir. Eternall death vnto my happinesse, My Pasquil slaine? Oh God, oh God, oh God. I, and I thinke the Vsurer made a Tent Euen of his nose it was so red and neere: God for his mercy, what mischance is heere? A good youth, a vertuous modest youth, I faith he was. And I can tell your sir, My daughter Katherine, where is she now? Whithers she gone? Drum call her hither straite.