Middleton, Thomas · published 1607 · first performed or written 1606 [1604-1606] (Annals) comedy · Children of Paul's (second) unassigned nearest T49 Wooing a mistress: suitors, go-betweens · 492 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T49: mistress, gentleman, love, lady, woman, pray, gentlewoman, hear, honest, way.
No more of my credit, and a Gentlewoman of a great house, Noble parentage, unmatchable Education, my plain Pung. I may, grace her with the name of a Courtesan, a Backslider, a Prostitution, or such a Toy, but when all comes to all 'tis but a plain Pung, look you Gentlemen, that's she, behold her. Oh my beloved strayer! I consume in thy absence. La you now— you shall not say i'll be proud to you Gentlemen, I give you leave to salute her, I me afraid of nothing now, but that she'll utterly disgrace 'em, turn tail to 'em, and place their kisses behind her, no by my faith, she deceives me, by my troth she's kissed am both with her lips: I thank you for that music masters, 'slid they both court her at once, and see if she ha' not the wit to stand still and let 'em: I think if two men were brewed into one, there is that woman would drink 'em up both. A Coxcomb, he a Courtier. He says he has a place there. So has the Fool a better place than he, and can come where he dare not show his head. Nay, he are you me Gentlemen. I protest you were the last man we spoke on, we're a little busy yet, pray stay there a while, we'll come to you presently. This is good i'faith, endure this and be a slave forever, since you neither savour of good breeding nor bringing up, I'll slice your hamstrings but i'll make you show mannerly— pox on you, leave courting, I ha' not the heart to hurt an Englishman i'faith, or else— What else? Prithee let's be merry, nothing else— here, fetch some wine. Let my Servant go for't. yours, which is he? This sir, but I scarce like my Mistress now: the loins can near be safe where the Flies be so busy— Wit by experience bought foils wit at School: Who proves a deeper knave than a Spent fool, I am gone for your worship's wine sir. Sir, you put up too much indignity, bring company to cut your own throat, the fire is not yet so hot, that you need two Screens before it, 'tis but new kindled yet, if 'twere risse to a flame, I could not blame you then to put others before you but alas all the heat yet is comfortable a cherisher, not a defacer. prithee let 'em alone, they'll be ashamed o't anon I trow, if they have any grace in 'em. I'd fain have him quarrel, fight, and be assuredly killed, that I might beg his place: for there's near a one void yet. You'll make him mad anon. 'tis to that end. Yet at last, Master Quomodo is as firm as his promise. Did I not tell you still he would. Let me see, I am seven hundred pound in bond now to the Rascal.
seed 43: T5 · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
No more of my credit, and a Gentlewoman of a great houſe, Noble parentage, vnmatchable Education, my plain Pung. I may, grace her with the name of a Curtizan, a Backſlider, a Proſtitution, or ſuch a Toy, but when all comes o al tis but a plaine Pung, looke you Gentlemen, that's ſhe, beholde her. Oh my beloued ſtrayer! I conſume in thy abſence. La you now—you ſhall not ſay ile be proud to you Gentlemen, I giue you leaue to ſalute her▪ I me afraide of nothing now, but that ſheele vtterlie diſgrace e'm, turn taile to e'm, and place their kiſſes behinde her, no by my faith, ſhe deceiues me, by my troth ſha's kiſt am both with her lips: I thanke you for that muſick maiſters, ſli'd they both court her at once, and ſee if ſhe ha not the wit to ſtand ſtill and let e'm: I thinke if two men were brewde into one, there is that woman would drink e'm vp both. A Cockſcombe, he a Courtier. He ſaies he ha's a place there. So ha's the Foole a better place then he, and can come where he dare not ſhow his head. Nay, he are you me Gentlemen. I proteſt you were the laſt man we ſpoke on, we're a little buſie yet, pray ſtay there a while, weele come to you preſently. This is good yfaith, indure this and be a ſlaue foreuer, ſince you neither ſauour of good breeding nor bringing vp, Ile ſlice your hamſtrings but ile make you ſhow mannerly—pox on you, leaue courting, I ha not the heart to hurt an Engliſhman yfaith, or elſe— What elſe? Prethee lets be merrie, nothing elſe—heere, fetch ſome wine. Let my Seruant goe for't. Your's, which is he? This ſir, but I ſcarce like my Miſtris now: the loynes can nere be ſafe where the Flyes be ſo buſie— Witte by experience bought foyles wit at Schoole: Who proues a deeper knaue then a Spent foole, I am gone for your worſhips wine ſir. Sir, you put vp too much indignitie, bring company to cut your owne throate, the fire is not yet ſo hot, that you neede two Screenes before it, tis but new kindled yet, if twere riſſe to a flame, I could not blame you thē to put others before you but alaſſe all the heate yet is comfortable a cherriſher, not a defacer. Prethe let e'm alone, theile bee aſham'd ot anon I troe, if they haue any grace in 'em. Ide faine haue him quarrell, fight, and be aſſuredlye kild, that I might beg his place: for there's nere a one voide yet. Youle make him mad anon. Tis to that end. Yet at laſt, Maiſter Quomodo is as firme as his promiſe. Did I not tell you ſtill he would. Let me ſee, I am ſeauen hundred pound in bond now to the Raſcall.