The Woman Hater (The Hungry Courtier) · chunk 9 of 46
Beaumont, Francis / Fletcher, John · published 1607 · first performed or written 1606 (Annals) comedy · Children of Paul's (second) unassigned nearest T16 Gallantry: ladies, lordships and complim · 520 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T16: lady, madam, gentleman, lordship, ladies, honour, mistress, sweet, court, servant.
Thither must I to see my loves face, the chaste virgin head Of a dear Fish, yet pure and underflowered, Not known of man, no bred rough country hand, Hath once touched thee, no Panders withered paw, Nor an un-napkined lawyer's greasy fist, Hath once slubbered thee: no lady's supple hand, Washed o'er with urine, hath yet seized on thee With her two nimble talents: no Court hand, Whom his own natural filth, or change of air, Hath bedecked with scabs, hath marred thy whiter grace: O let it be thought lawful then for me, To crop the flower of thy virginity. This day I am for fools, I am all theirs, Though like to our young wanton cockered heirs, Who do affect those men above the rest, In whose base company they still are best: I do not with much labour strive to be The wisest ever in the company: But for a fool, our wisdom oft amends, As enemies do teach us more than friends. My Lord: Ha. Here's one hath brought you a present. From whom, from a woman? if it be from a woman, bid him carry it back, and tell her she's a whore: what is it? A Fish head my Lord. What Fish head? I did not ask that my lord. Whence comes it? From the Court. O 'tis a cods-head. No my Lord, 'tis some strange head, it comes from the Duke. Let it be carried to my Mercer, I do owe him money for silks, stop his mouth with that. Was there ever any man that hated his wife after death but I? and for her sake all women, women that were created only for the preservation of little dogs. My Lord, the Counts sister being overtaken in the streets, with a great hailstorm, is light at your gate, and desires Rome till the storm be overpast. Is she a woman? I my Lord I think so. I have none for her then: bid her get her gone, tell her she is not welcome. My Lord, she is now coming up. She shall not come up, tell her any thing, tell her I have but one great room in my house, and I am now in it at the close stool. she's here my Lord. O impudence of women, I can keep dogs out of my house, or I can defend my house against thieves, but I cannot keep out women. Now Madam, what hath your Ladyship to say to me? My Lord, I was bold to crave the help of your house against the storm. Your ladyships boldness in coming, will be impudence in staying, for you are most unwelcome. Oh my Lord! Do you laugh, by the hate I bear to you, 'tis true. You're merry my Lord. Let me laugh to death if I be, or can be whilst thou art here, or livest, or any of thy sex. I commend your Lordship. Do you commend me? why do you commend me? I give you no such cause: thou art a filthy impudent whore; a woman, a very 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)
Thither must I to see my loues face, the chast virgin head Of a deere Fish, yet pure and vnderflowred, Not known of man, no bred rough country hand, Hath once toucht thee, no Pandars withered paw, Nor an vn-napkind Lawyers greasie fist, Hath once slubberd thee: no Ladies supple hand, Washt o're with vrine, hath yet seiz'd on thee With her two nimble talents: no Court hand, Whom his owne naturall filth, or change of aire, Hath bedeckt with scabs, hath mard thy whiter grace: O let it be thought lawfull then for me, To crop the flower of thy virginitie. This day I am for fooles, I am all theirs, Though like to our yong wanton cockerd heires, Who doe affect those men aboue the rest, In whose base company they still are best: I doe not with much labour striue to be The wisest euer in the company: But for a foole, our wisdom oft amends, As enemies doe teach vs more then friends. My Lord: Ha. Here's one hath brought you a present. From whom, from a woman? if it be from a woman, bid him carrie it backe, and tell her shee's a whore: what is it? A Fish head my Lord. What Fish head? I did not aske that my lord. Wence coes it? From the Court. O t'is a Cods-head. No my Lord, 'tis some strange head, it comes from the Duke. Let it be carried to my Mercer, I doe owe him money for silkes, stop his mouth with that. Was ther euer any man that hated his wife after death but I? and for her sake all women, women that were created onely for the preseruation of little dogges. My Lord, the Counts sister beeing ouertaken in the streets, with a great haile-storme, is light at your gate, and desires Rome till the storme be ouerpast. Is shee a woman? I my Lord I thinke so. I haue none for her then: bid her get her gone, tel her shee is not welcome. My Lord, shee is now comming vp. Shee shall not come vp, tell her any thing, tell her I haue but one great roome in my house, and I am now in it at the close stoole. Shee's here my Lord. O impudence of women, I can keepe dogs out of my house, or I can defend my house against theeues, but I cannot keep out women. Now Madam, what hath your Ladiship to say to me? My Lord, I was bold to craue the helpe of your house against the storme. Your Ladiships boldnesse in comming, will bee impudence in staying, for you are most vnwelcome. Oh my Lord! Doe you laugh, by the hate I beare to you, tis true. Y'are merry my Lord. Let me laugh to death if I bee, or can bee whilst thou art here, or liuest, or any of thy sexe. I commend your Lordship. Doe you commend me? why doe you commend me? I giue you no such cause: thou art a filthy impudent whore; a woman, a very woman.