Cynthia's Revels, or The Fountain of Self-Love · chunk 40 of 66
Jonson, Ben · published 1616 · first performed or written 1600 [1600-1601] (Annals) satire · Children of the Chapel (second) unassigned nearest T11 Siblings, kin and confidants · 493 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T11: sister, brother, love, friend, heart, father, mother, woman, lord, hear.
Nay, good punk, sweet rascal; damn me, if I am jealous now. That's true indeed: pray let's go. What's the matter, there? 'Slight, he has me upon intergatories, (nay, my mother shall know how you use me) where I have been? and, why I should stay so long? and, how be't possible? and withal, calls me at his pleasure, I know not how many cockatrices, and things. In truth and sadness, these are no good epitaphs, ANAIDES, to bestow upon any gentlewoman; and (I'll ensure you) if I had known you would have dealt thus with my daughter, she should never have fancied you so deeply, as she has done. Go too. Why, do you hear, mother MORIA. Heart! Nay, I pray you, sir, do not swear. Swear? why? 'sblood, I have sworn afore now, I hope. Both you and your daughter mistake me. I have not honoured ARETE, that is held the worthiest lady in court (next to CYNTHIA) with half that observance, and respect, as I have done her in private, howsoever outwardly I have carried myself careless, and negligent. Come, you are a foolish, punk, and know not when you are well employed. Kiss me, come on. Do it, I say. Nay, indeed I must confess, she is apt to misprision. But I must have you leave it, minion. How now, ASOTUS? how does the lady? Faith, ill. I have left my page with her, at her lodging. O, here's the rarest water that ever was tasted: fill him some. What! has my master a new page? Yes, a kinsman of the lady MORIAS: you must wait better now, or you are cashiered, PROSAITES. Come, gallants, you must pardon my foolish humour: when I am angry, that any thing crosses me, I grow impatient straight. Here, I drink to you. O, that we had five, or six bottles more of this liquour. Now I commend your judgement, AMORPHUS, who's that knocks? Look, page. O, most delicious, a little of this would make ARGURION well. O, no, give her no cold drink, by any means. 'Sblood, this water is the spirit of wine, I'll be hanged else. Here's the lady ARETE, Madame. WHat! at your beaver, gallants? willt please your ladyship drink? 'tis of the new fountain water. Not I, MORIA, I thank you. Gallants, you are for this night free, to your peculiar delights; CYNTHIA will have no sports: when she is pleased to come forth, you shall have knowledge. In the mean time, I could wish you did provide for solemn revels, and some vnlook't-for device of wit, to entertain her, against she should vouchsafe to grace your pastimes with her presence. What say you to a mask? Nothing better, if the project were new, and rare. Why, I'll send for CRITES, and have his advice; be you ready in your endeavours: He shall discharge you of the inventive part. But, will not your ladyship stay? Not now, PHANTASTE.
seed 43: T2 · seed 44: T3 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Nay, good punke, sweete rascall; dam' mee, if I am iealous now. That's true indeede: pray let's goe. What's the matter, there? S'light, he has mee vpon intergatories, (nay, my mother shall know how you vse me) where I haue beene? and, why I should stay so long? and, how ist possible? and withall, calls me at his pleasure, I know not how many cockatrices, and things. In truth and sadnesse, these are no good epitaphs, ANAIDES, to bestow vpon any gentlewoman; and (Ile ensure you) if I had knowne you would haue dealt thus with my daughter, she should neuer haue fancied you so deeply, as shee has done. Goe too. Why, doe you heare, mother MORIA. Heart! Nay, I pray you, sir, doe not sweare. Sweare? why? S'lood, I haue sworne afore now, I hope. Both you and your daughter mistake me. I haue not honor'd ARETE, that is held the worthiest ladie in court (next to CYNTHIA) with halfe that obseruance, and respect, as I haue done her in priuate, howsoeuer outwardly I haue carried my selfe carelesse, and negligent. Come, you are a foolish, punke, and know not when you are well imploi'd. Kisse me, come on. Doe it, I say. Nay, indeed I must confesse, shee is apt to misprision. But I must haue you leaue it, minion. How now, ASOTVS? how do's the ladie? Faith, ill. I haue left my page with her, at her lodging. O, here's the rarest water that euer was tasted: fill him some. What! has my master a new page? Yes, a kinsman of the ladie MORIAS: you must waite better now, or you are casheer'd, PROSAITES. Come, gallants, you must pardon my foolish humour: when I am angrie, that any thing crosses mee, I grow impatient straight. Here, I drinke to you. O, that we had fiue, or sixe bottles more of this liquor. Now I commend your iudgement, AMORPHVS, who's that knockes? Looke, page. O, most delicious, a little of this would make ARGVRION well. O, no, giue her no cold drinke, by any meanes. S'lood, this water is the spirit of wine, I'le be hang'd else. Here's the ladie ARETE, Madame. WHat! at your beuer, gallants? Wilt please your ladiship drinke? tis of the new fountayne water. Not I, MORIA, I thanke you. Gallants, you are for this night free, to your peculiar delights; CYNTHIA will haue no sports: when shee is pleas'd to come forth, you shall haue knowledge. In the meane time, I could wish you did prouide for solemne reuels, and some vnlook't-for deuice of wit, to entertaine her, against she should vouchsafe to grace your pastimes with her presence. What say you to a Masque? Nothing better, if the proiect were new, and rare. Why, Ile send for CRITES, and haue his aduice; be you ready in your indeauours: He shall discharge you of the inuentiue part. But, will not your ladiship stay? Not now, PHANTASTE.