The Woman Hater (The Hungry Courtier) · chunk 18 of 46
Beaumont, Francis / Fletcher, John · published 1607 · first performed or written 1606 (Annals) comedy · Children of Paul's (second) T4 Love-longing and the lover's complaint typicality 0.85 · 512 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T4: love, heart, sweet, loves, fair, phillis, eyes, beauty, amyntas, lovers.
I cannot think your better knowledge can use a woman so uncivilly. I cannot think, I shall become a coxcomb, To ha' my hare curled, by an idle finger, My cheeks turn tabor, and be played upon, Mine eyes looked babies in, & my nose blowed to my hand, mind I say again I shall kick, sure I shall. 'tis but your outside that you show: I know your Never was guilty of so great a weakness, Or could the tongues of all men joined together Possess me with a thought of your dislike My weakness were above a woman's, to fall off From my affection, for one crack of thunder, O would you could love my Lord. I would thou wouldst sit still, and say nothing: what madman let thee loose to do more mischief than a dozen whirlwinds, keep thy hands: in thy muff, and warm the idle worms in thy finger's ends will ye be doing still, will no entreating serve ye, no lawful warning, I must remove and leave your Ladyship; nay never hope to stay me, for I will run, from that Smooth, Smiling, witching, cozening, Tempting, Damning face of thine, as far as I can find any land, where I will put myself into a daily course of Curses for thee, and all thy Family. Nay good my Lord sit still, i'll promise peace And fold mine Arms up, let but mine eye discourse, Or let my voice set to some pleasing cord, sound out The sullen strains of my neglected love. Sing till thou crack thy treble string in pieces, And when thou hast done, put up thy pipes and walk, Do any thing, sit still and tempt me not. I had rather sing at doors for bread, then sing to this fellow, but for hate: if this should be told in the Court, that I begin to woe Lords, what a troop of the untrust nobility should I have at my lodging tomorrow morning. Come sleep, and with thy sweet deceiving, Lock me in delight a while, Let some pleasing Dreams beguile All my fancies that from thence, I may feel an influence, All my powers of care bereaving. Though but a shadow, but a sliding, Let me know some little joy, We that suffer long annoy Are contented with a thought Through an idle fancy wrought O let my joys, have some abiding. Have you done your wassail, 'tis a handsome drowsy ditty i'll assure ye, now I had as lief here a Cart cry, when her tail is cut off, as hear these lamentations, these lousy love-lays, these bewailments, you think you have caught me Lady, you think I melt now, like a dish of May butter, and run, all into brine, and passion, yes, yes, I am taken, look how I cross my arms, look pale, and dwindle, and would cry, but for spoiling my face, we must part, nay we'll avoid all Ceremony, no kissing Lady, I desire to know your Ladyship no more; death of my soul the Duke.
seed 43: T2 · seed 44: T3 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
I cannot thinke your better knowledge can vse a woman so vnciuilly. I cannot thinke, I shall become a coxcombe, To ha' my hare curl'd, by an idle finger, My cheekes turne Tabers, and be plaid vpon, Mine eyes lookt babies in, & my nose blowd to my hand, mind I say againe I shall kicke, sure I shall. Tis but your outside that you shew: I know your Neuer was guiltie of so great a weaknes, Or could the tongues of all men ioynd togeather Possesse me with a thought of your dislike My weaknes were aboue a womans, to fall off From my affection, for one cracke of thunder, O wo'd you could loue my Lord. I wod thou wouldst sit still, and say nothing: what mad-man let thee loose to do more mischief then a dousen whirlwinds, keepe thy hands: in thy muffe, and warme the idle wormes in thy fingers ends will yee bee doing still, will no intreating serue yee, no lawfull warning, I must remoue and leaue your Ladiship; nay neuer hope to stay me, for I will runne, from that Smooth, Smiling, witching, Cousening, Tempting, Damning face of thine, as farre as I can find any land, where I will put my selfe into a daily course of Curses for thee, and all thy Familie. Nay good my Lord sit still, ile promise peace And fould mine Armes vp, let but mine eye discourse, Or let my voyce set to some pleasing corde, sound out The sullen straines of my neglected loue. Sing till thou cracke thy treble string in peeces, And when thou hast done, put vp thy pipes and walke, Doe any thing, sit still and tempt me not. I had rather sing at dores for bread, then sing to this fellow, but for hate: if this should be told in the Court, that I begin to woe Lords, what a troop of the vntrust nobilitie should I haue at my lodging tomorrow morning. Come sleepe, and with thy sweet deceiuing, Lock me in delight a while, Let some pleasing Dreames beguile All my fancies that from thence, I may feele an influence, All my powers of care bereauing. Though but a shaddow, but a sliding, Let me know some little Ioy, We that suffer long anoy Are contented with a thought Through an idle fancie wrought O let my ioyes, haue some abiding. Haue you done your wassayle, tis a handsome drowsie dittie ile assure yee, now I had as leeue here a Carte cry, when her taile is cut off, as heare these lamentations, these lowsie loue-layes, these beway lements, you thinke you haue caught me Ladie, you thinke I melt now, like a dish of May butter, and runne, all into brine, and passion, yes, yes, I am taken, looke how I crosse my armes, looke pale, and dwyndle, and woo'd cry, but for spoyling my face, we must part, nay we'l auoyd all Ceremony, no kissing Ladie, I desire to know your Ladiship no more; death of my soule the Duke.