Chapman, George · published 1607 · first performed or written 1607 (Annals) tragedy · Children of Paul's (second) · Paul's unassigned nearest T16 Gallantry: ladies, lordships and complim · 473 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T16: lady, madam, gentleman, lordship, ladies, honour, mistress, sweet, court, servant.
D'Ambois? even he my Lord. Dost thou not dream wench? No my Lord, he is the man. The devil he is, and thy Lady his dam: infinite regions betwixt a woman's tongue and her heart: is this our Goddess of chastity? I thought I could not be so slighted: if she had not her freight beside: and therefore plotted this with her woman: dear Pero I will advance thee for ever: but tell me now: God's precious it transforms me with admiration: sweet Pero, whom should she trust with his conveyance? Or, all the doors being made sure, how could his conveyance be performed? Nay my Lord, that amazes me: I cannot by any study so much as guess at it. Well, let's favour our apprehensions with forbearing that a little: for if my heart were not hooped with adamant, the conceit of this would have burst it: but hark thee. I swear to your Grace, all that I can conjecture touching my Lady your Niece, is a strong affection she bears to the English Mylor. All quoth you? 'tis enough I assure you, but tell me. I pray thee resolve me: the Duke will never imagine that I am busy about's wife: hath D'Ambois any privy access to her? No my Lord, D'Ambois neglects her (as she takes it) and is therefore suspicious that either your Lady, or the Countess Beaupre hath closely entertained him. be'r lady a likely suspicion, and very near the life, if she marks it; especially of my wife. Come we'll put off all, with seeming only to have courted; away dry palm: sh'as a liver as hard as a biscuit: a man may go a whole voyage with her, and get nothing but tempests at her windpipe. here's one: (I think) has swallowed a porcupine, she casts pricks from her tongue so. And here's a peacock seems to have devoured one of the Alps, she has so swelling a spirit, and is so cold of her kindness. We be no windfalls my Lord; ye must gather us with the ladder of matrimony, or we'll hang till we be rotten. Indeed that's the way to make ye right opens. But alas ye have no portions fit for such husbands as we wish you. Portions my Lord, yes and such portions as your principality cannot purchase. What woman? what are those portions? Riddle my riddle my Lord. I marry wench, I think thy portion is a right riddle, a man shall never find it out: but let's hear it. You shall my Lord. What's that, that being most rare's most cheap? That if you sow, you never reap? That when it grows most, most you in it? And still you lose it when you win it: That when 'tis commonest, 'tis dearest, And when 'tis farthest off 'tis nearest?
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)
D'Ambois? Euen he my Lord. Dost thou not dreame wench? No my Lord, he is the man. The diuell he is, and thy Lady his dam: infinite regions betwixt a womans tongue and her heart: is this our Goddesse of chastity? I thought I could not be so sleighted: if shee had not her freight besides: and therefore plotted this with her woman: deare Pero I will aduance thee for euer: but tell mee now: Gods pretious it transformes me with admiration: sweet Pero, whom should she trust with his conueiance? Or, all the doores being made sure, how could his conueiance bee performed? Nay my Lord, that amazes me: I cannot by any study so much as guesse at it. Well, lets fauour our apprehensions with forbearing that a little: for if my heart were not hoopt with adamant, the conceipt of this would haue burst it: but hearke thee. I sweare to your Grace, all that I can coniecture touching my Lady your Neece, is a strong affection she beares to the English Mylor. All quod you? tis enough I assure you, but tell me. I pray thee resolue me: the Duke will neuer imagine that I am busie about's wife: hath D'Ambois any priuy accesse to her? No my Lord, D'Ambois neglects her (as she takes it) and is therefore suspicious that either your Lady, or the Countesse Beaupre hath closely entertaind him. Ber lady a likely suspition, and very neere the life, if she marks it; especially of my wife. Come we'l put off all, with seeming onely to haue courted; away drie palme: sh'as a liuer as hard as a bisket: a man may goe a whole voyage with her, and get nothing but tempests at her windpipe. Heer's one: (I thinke) has swallowd a porcupine, she casts pricks from her tongue so. And heer's a peacock seemes to haue deuourd one of the Alpes, she has so swelling a spirit, and is so cold of her kindnesse. We be no windfals my Lord; ye must gather vs with the ladder of matrimony, or we'l hang till we be rotten. Indeed that's the way to make ye right openarses. But ahlas ye haue no portions fit for such husbands as we wish you. Portions my Lord, yes and such portions as your principality cannot purchase. What woman? what are those portions? Riddle my riddle my Lord. I marry wench, I thinke thy portion is a right riddle, a man shall neuer finde it out: but lets heare it. You shall my Lord. What's that, that being most rar's most cheape? That if you sow, you neuer reape? That when it growes most, most you in it? And still you lose it when you win it: That when tis commonest, tis dearest, And when tis farthest off'tis neerest?