1 The Honest Whore (1 The Converted Courtesan) (The Patient Man and the Honest Whore) · chunk 30 of 48
Dekker, Thomas / Middleton, Thomas · published 1604 · first performed or written 1604 (Annals) comedy · Prince Henry's Men unassigned nearest T16 Gallantry: ladies, lordships and complim · 489 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T16: lady, madam, gentleman, lordship, ladies, honour, mistress, sweet, court, servant.
Here's a person would speak with you Sir. Hah! A parson sir would speak with you. Vicar? Vicar? no sir, has too good a face to be a Vicar yet, a youth, a very youth. What youth? of man or woman? lock the doors. If it be a woman, marrow-bones and Potato pies keep me for meddling with her, for the thing has got the breeches, 'tis a male-varlet sure my Lord, for a woman's tailor ne'er measured him. Let him give thee his message and be gone. He says he's signor Matheo's man, but I know he lies. How dost thou know it? 'cause has near a beard: 'tis his boy I think sir, whosoe'er paid for his nursing. Send him and keep the door. Fata si liceat mihi, Fingere arbitrio meo, Temperem Zephyro leuivela. I'd sail were I to choose, not in the Ocean, Cedars are shaken, when shrubs do feel no bruise▪ How? from Mathaeo. Yes my Lord. Art sick? Not all in health my Lord. Keep off. I do: Hard fate when women are compelled to woo. This paper does speak nothing. Yes my Lord, Matter of life it speaks, and therefore writ In hidden Character; to me instruction My master gives, And (less you please to stay Till you both meet) I can the text display. Do so: read out. I am already out: Look on my face, and read the strangest story! What villain, ho? Call you my Lord? Thou slave, thou hast let in the devil. Lord bless us, where? he's not cloven my Lord that I can see: besides the devil goes more like a Gentleman than a Page: good my Lord Boon couragio. Thou hast let in a woman in man's shape. And thou art damned for't. Not damned I hope for putting in a woman to a Lord. Fetch me my Rapier,— do not: I shall kill thee. Purge this infected chamber of that plague, That runs upon me thus: Slave, thrust her hence. Alas my Lord, I shall never be able to thrust her hence without help: come Mermaid you must to Sea again. hear me but speak, my words shall be all Music: hear me but speak. Another beats the door, Tother She-devil, look. Why then hell's broke loose. Hence, guard the chamber: let no more come on, One woman serves for man's damnation. Beshrew thee, thou dost make me violate, The chastest and most sanctimonious vow, That ere was entered in the court of heaven: I was on meditations spotless wings, upon my journey thither; like a storm Thou beats my ripened cogitations, flat to the ground: and like a thief dost stand, To steal devotion from the holy land. If woman were thy mother; if thy heart, be not all Marble, (or if't Marble be) Let my tears soften it, to pity me, I do beseech the do not thus with scorn, Destroy a woman.
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)
Heres a person would speake with you Sir. Hah! A parson sir would speake with you. Vicar? Vicar? no sir, has too good a face to be a Vicar yet, a youth, a very youth. What youth? of man or woman? lock the dores. If it be a woman, mary-bones and Potato pies keepe me for medling with her, for the thing has got the breeches, tis a male-varlet sure my Lord, for a womans tayler nore measurd him. Let him giue thee his message and be gone. He sayes hees signior Mathaeos man, but I know he lyes. How doest thou know it? Cause has nere a beard: tis his boy I thinke sir, whosoere paide for his nursing. Send him and keepe the doore. Fata si liceat mihi, Fingere arbitrio meo, Temperem Zephyro leuivela. Ide saile were I to choose, not in the Ocean, Cedars are shaken, when shrubs doe feele no bruize▪ How? from Mathaeo. Yes my Lord. Art sick? Not all in health my Lord. Keepe off. I do: Hard fate when women are compeld to wooe. This paper does speake nothing. Yes my Lord, Matter of life it speakes, and therefore writ In hidden Caracter; to me iustruction My maister giues, And (lesse you please to stay Till you both meet) I can the text display. Doe so: read out. I am already out: Looke on my face, and read the strangest story! What villaine, ho? Call you my Lord? Thou slaue, thou hast let in the diuell. Lord blesse vs, where? hees not clouen my Lord that I can see: besides the diuell goes more like a Gentleman than a Page: good my Lord Boon couragio. Thou hast let in a woman in mans shape. And thou art dambd for't. Not dambd I hope for putting in a woman to a Lord. Fetch me my Rapier,—do not: I shall kill thee. Purge this infected chamber of that plague, That runnes vpon me thus: Slaue, thrust her hence. Alas my Lord, I shall neuer be able to thrust her hence without helpe: come Mermaid you must to Sea agen. Here me but speake, my words shall be all Musick: Here me but speake. Another beates the dore, T'other Shee-diuell, looke. Why then hell's broke loose. Hence, guard the chamber: let no more come on, One woman serues for mans damnation. Beshrew thee, thou doost make me violate, The chastest and most sanctimonious vow, That ere was entred in the court of heauen: I was on meditations spottles wings, vpon my iorney thether; like a storme Thou beats my ripened cogitations, flat to the ground: and like a theife doost stand, To steale deuotion from the holy land. If woman were thy mother; if thy hart, Bee not all Marble, (or ift Marble be) Let my teares soften it, to pitty me, I doe beseech the doe not thus with scorne, Destroy a woman.