Anonymous · published 1605 · first performed or written 1604 [1603-1605] (Annals) comedy · King's Men unassigned nearest T49 Wooing a mistress: suitors, go-betweens · 485 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T49: mistress, gentleman, love, lady, woman, pray, gentlewoman, hear, honest, way.
You have said well: indeed right well. Mistress here's one would speak with you, my fellow Daffidill hath him in the cellar already, he knows him, he met him at Croyden fair. O I remember a little man. I a very little man. And yet a proper man. A very proper, very little man. His name is monsieur Civet. The same sir. Come Gentlemen if other suitors come, My foolish daughter will be fitted too: But Delia my saint, no man dare move. Hark you sir, a word. What ha an you to say to me now? Ye shall hear from me, and that very shortly. Is that all, vare thee well, chee vere thee not, a vig. What if should come more? I am fairly dressed. I do not mean that you shall meet with him, But presently we'll go and draw a will; Where we'll set down land, that we never saw, And we will have it of so large a sum, Sir Lancelot shall entreat you take his daughter: This being formed, give it master Weathercock, And make sir Lancelot's daughter heir of all: And make him swear, never to show the will To any one, until that you be dead, This done, the foolish changing Weathercock, Will straight discourse unto sir Lancelot, The form and tenor of your Testament, Nor stand to pause of it, be ruled by me: What will ensue, that shall you quickly see. Come let's about it: if that a will sweet Kit, Can get the wench, I shall renown thy wit. Mistress still froward? No kind looks unto your Daffidill, now by the Gods. Away you foolish knave, let my hand go. There is your hand, but this shall go with me: My heart is thine, this is my true loves fee. I'll have your coat stripped o'er your ears for this, You saucy rascal. How now maid, what is the news with you? Your man is something saucy. Go to sirrah, I'll talk with you anon. Sir I am a man to be talked withal, I am no horse I tro: I Know my strength, then no more than so. A by the matkins, good sir Lancelot, I saw him the other day hold up the bucklers, like an Hercules, i'faith God a mercy lad, I like thee well. ay, I like him well, go sirrah fetch me a cup of wine, Th ere I part with maister Weathercocke, We may drink down our farewell in French wine. I thank you sir, I thank you friendly knight, I'll come and visit you, by the mouse-foot I will: In the mean time, take heed of cutting Flowerdale, He is a desperate dick I warrant you. He is, he is: fill Daffidill, fill me some wine, ha, what wears he on his arm? My daughter Luces bracelet, I t is the same: Ha to you master Weathercock.
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)
You haue sed well: indeed right well. Mistresse heeres one would speake with you, my fellow Daffidill hath him in the sellor already, he knowes him, he met him at Croyden fayre. O I remember a little man. I a very little man. And yet a proper man. A very proper, very little man. His name is Mounsier Ciuet. The same syr. Come Gentlemen if other shuters come, My foolish daughter will be fitted too: But Delia my saint, no man dare moue. Harke you syr, a word. What ha an you to say to me now? Ye shall heare from me, and that very shortly. Is that all, vare thee well, chee vere thee not, a vig. What if should come more? I am fairely drest. I doe not meane that you shall meete with him, But presently weele goe and draw a will; Where weele set downe land, that we neuer sawe, And we will haue it of so large a summe, Syr Lancelot shall intreat you take his daughter: This being formed, giue it maister Weathercocke, And make syr Lancelots daughter heire of all: And make him sweare, neuer to show the will To any one, vntil that you be dead, This done, the foolish changing Weathercocke, Will straight discourse vnto syr Lancelot, The forme and tenor of your Testament, Nor stand to pause of it, be rulde by mee: What will inshue, that shall you quickly see. Come lets about it: if that a will sweet Kyt, Can get the wench, I shall renowne thy wit. Mistresse still froward? No kind lookes vnto your Daffidill, now by the Gods. Away you foolish knaue, let my hand goe. There is your hand, but this shall goe with me: My heart is thine, this is my true loues fee. Ile haue your coate stript ore your eares for this, You sawcie rascall. How now maid, what is the newes with you? Your man is something sawcie. Goe too syrrha, Ile talke with you anon. Syr I am a man to be talked withall, I am no horse I tro: I Know my strength, then no more then so. A by the matkins, good syr Lancelot, I saw him the other day hold vp the bucklers, like an Hercules, I faith God a marcie lad, I like thee well. I, I like him well, go syrrha fetch me a cup of wine, Th ere I part with maister VVeathercocke, We may drinke downe our farewell in French wine. I thanke you syr, I thanke you friendly knight, Ile come and visit you, by the mouse-foot I will: In the meane time, take heed of cutting Flowerdale, He is a desperate dyck I warrant you. He is, he is: fill , fill me some wine, ha, what weares he on his arme? My daughter Laces bracelet, I is the same: Ha to you maister Weathercocke.