Blurt, Master Constable, or The Spaniard's Night Walk · chunk 9 of 34
Anonymous · published 1602 · first performed or written 1601 [1601-1602] (Annals) romance · Children of Paul's (second) unassigned nearest T30 Constables, justices and the watch · 495 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T30: constable, squire, tub, clay, worship, justice, turf, mr, hun, valentine.
Now by Saint Mark he's a most treacherous villain, Dare the base Frenchman's eye gaze on my love? Nay sweet rogue, why wouldst thou make his face a vizard, to have two loop-holes only? when he comes to a good face, may he not do with his eyes what he will: 'sfoot if I were as he, I'd pull them out, and if I wist they would anger thee. Thou add'st heat to my rage, away, stand back, Dishonoured slave, more treacherous than base, This is the instance of my scorned disgrace. Thou ill advised Italian whence proceeds This sudden fury? Villain from thee. Hercules stand between them. Villain by my blood; I am as free borne as your Venice Duke. Villain, Saint Dennis and my life to boot, Thy lips shall kiss this pavement or my foot. Your foot with a pox? I hope you're no Pope Sir, his lips shall kiss my sister's soft lip: and thine, the tough lips of this: nay Sir, I do but show you that I have a tool; do you heat Saint Dennis, but that we both stand upon the narrow bridge of Honour, I should cut your throat now, for pure love you bear to my Sister, but that I know you would set out a throat. Wilt thou not Stab the peasant, That thus dishonours both thyself and me? Saint Mark set his marks upon me then: stab? I'll have my shins broken, ere I'll scratch so much as the skin off, a the law of Arms: shall I make a Frenchman cry oh, before the fall of the Leaf? not I by the Cross of this, Dandyprat. If you will Sir you shall coin me into a shilling. I shall lay too heavy a cross upon thee then. Is this a time to jest? boy call my servants. Gentlemen to the dresser. You rogue what Dresser? cease on Fontenell, And lodge him in a Dungeon presently. He steps upon his death that stirs a foot. That shall I try, as in the field before I made thee stoop, so here I'll make thee bow. Thou play'dst the Soldier then, the villain now. Treacherous Italians. Hale him to a Dungeon, There if your thoughts can apprehend the form, Of Violetta; dote on her rare feature, Or if your proud flesh with a sparing diet, Can still retain her swelling spritefulness; Then Court (instead of her) the croaking vermin, That people, that most solitary vault. But sirrah Camillo, wilt thou play the wise and venerable bearded Master Constable, and commit him indeed, because he would be meddling in thy Precinct and will not put off the cap of his Love to the brown-bill of thy desires? Well, thou hast given the Law of Arms a broken pate already, therefore if thou wilt needs turn Broker, and be a cut-throat too, do: for my part, I'll go get a sweet ball, and wash my hands of it.
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: T30 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Now by Saint Marke he's a most trecherous villaine, Dare the base French-mans eye gaze on my loue? Nay sweet roague, wh wouldst thou make his face a vizard, to haue two loope-holes onely? when he comes to a good face, may he not doe with his eyes what he will: s'foote if I were as he, Ide pull them out, and if I wist they would anger thee. Thou ad'st heate to my rage, away, stand backe, Dishonoured slaue, more tretchrous then base, This is the instance of my scorn'd disgrace. Thou ill aduiz'd Italian whence proceedes This sodaine fury? Villaine from thee. Hercules stand betweene them. Villaine by my bloud; I am as free borne as your Uenice Duke. Villaine, Saint Dennis and my life to boote, Thy lips shall kisse this pauement or my foote. Your foote with a pox? I hope y'are no Pope Sir, his lips shall kisse my Sisters soft lippe: and thine, the tough lips of this: nay Sir, I doe but shewe you that I haue a toole; doe you heate Saint Dennis, but that we both stand vpon the narrow bridge of Honour, I should cut your throate now, for pure loue you beare to my Sister, but that I know you would set out a throate. Wilt thou not Stab the peasant, That thus dishonours both thy selfe and me? Saint Marke set his markes vpon me then: stab? Ile haue my shinnes broken, ere Ile scratch so much as the skin off, a the law of Armes: shall I make a French-man cry oh, before the fall of the Leafe? not I by the Crosse of this, Dandyprat. If you will Sir you shall coyne me into a shilling. I shall lay too heauie a crosse vpon thee then. Is this a time to iest boy call my seruants. Gentlemen to the dresser. You roague what Dresser? ceaze on Fontenell, And lodge him in a Dungeon presentlie. He steps vpon his death that stirres a foote. That shall I trie, as in the field before I made thee stoope, so heere Ile make thee bow. Thou plaidst the Soldier then, the villaine now. Treacherous Italians. Hale him to a Dungeon, There if your thoughts can apprehend the forme, Of Uioletta; dote on her rare feature, Or if your proude flesh with a sparing dyet, Can still retaine her swelling spritefulnes; Then Court (insteed of her) the croaking vermine, That people, that most solitarie vault. But sirra Camillo, wilt thou play the wise and venerable bearded Master Constable, and commit him indeede, because he would be medling in thy Precincte and will not put off the cap of his Loue to the browne-bill of thy desires? Well, thou hast giuen the Law of Armes a broken pate alreadie, therefore if thou wilt needes turne Broker, and be a cut-throate too, doe: for my part, Ile goe get a sweet ball, and wash my handes of it.