Middleton, Thomas · published 1607 · first performed or written 1606 [1605-1606] (Annals) tragedy · King's Men unassigned nearest T16 Gallantry: ladies, lordships and complim · 503 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T16: lady, madam, gentleman, lordship, ladies, honour, mistress, sweet, court, servant.
I much applaud thy judgement, thou art well read in a fellow, And 'tis the deepest Art to study man; I know this, which I never learned in schools, The world's divided into knaves and fools. Knave in your face my Lord, behind your back. And I much thank thee, that thou hast preferred, A fellow of discourse— well mingled, And whose brain Time hath seasoned. True my Lord, We shall find season once I hope;— O villain! To make such an unnatural slave of me;— but— Mass here he comes. And now shall I have free leave to depart. Your absence, leave us. Are not my thoughts true? I must remove; but brother you may stay, Heart, we are both made Bawds a newfound way? Now, we're an even number? a third man's dangerous, Especially her brother, say, be free, Have I a pleasure toward. Oh my Lord. Ravish me in thine answer, art thou rare, Hast thou beguiled her of salvation, And rubbed hell over with honey; is she a woman? In all but in Desire. Then she's in nothing,— I bate in courage now. The words I brought, Might well have made indifferent honest, nought, A right good woman in these days in changed, Into white money with less labour far, Many a Maid has turned to Mahomet, With easier working; I durst undertake Upon the pawn and forfeit of my life. With half those words to flat a Puritans wife, But she is close and good;— yet 'tis a doubt by this time; oh the mother, the mother? I never thought their sex had been a wonder, Until this minute? what fruit from the Mother? Now must I blister my soul, be forsworn, Or shame the woman that received me first, I will be true, thou liv'st not to proclaim, Spoke to a dying man, shame has no shame. My Lord. whose's that? Here's none but I my Lord. What would thy haste utter? Comfort. Welcome. The Maid being dull, having no mind to travel, Into unknown lands, what did me I straight, But set spurs to the Mother; golden spurs, Will put her to a false gallop in a trice, Is't possible that in this. The Mother should be damned before the daughter? Oh, that's good manners my Lord, the Mother for her age must go foremost you know. Thou'st spoke that true but where comes in this comfort. In a fine place my Lord— the unnatural mother, Did with her tongue so hard be set her honour, That the poor fool was struck to silent wonder, Yet still the maid like an unlighted Taper, Was cold and chaste, save that her Mother's breath, Did blow fire on her checks, the girl departed, But the good ancient Madam half mad, threw me These promising words, which I took deeply note of; My Lord shall be most welcome, Faith I thank her, When his pleasure conducts him this way. That shall be soon ifath, I will sway mine own,
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)
I much applaud thy iudgement, thou art well read in a fellow, And 'tis the deepest Arte to studie man; I know this, which I neuer learnt in schooles, The world's diuided into knaues and fooles. Knaue in your face my Lord, behinde your back. And I much thanke thee, that thou hast preferd, A fellow of discourse—well mingled, And whose braine Time hath seasond. True my Lord, We shall finde season once I hope;—O villaine! To make such an vnnaturall slaue of me;—but— Masse here he comes. And now shall I haue free leaue to depart. Your absence, leaue vs. Are not my thoughts true? I must remooue; but brother you may stay, Heart, we are both made Bawdes a new-found way? Now, we're an euen number? a third mans dangerous, Especially her brother, say, be free, Haue I a pleasure toward. Oh my Lord. Rauish me in thine answer, art thou rare, Hast thou beguilde her of saluation, And rubd hell ore with hunny; is she a woman? In all but in Desire. Then shee's in nothing,—I bate in courage now. The words I brought, Might well haue made indifferent honest, naught, A right good woman in these dayes in changde, Into white money with lesse labour farre, Many a Maide has turn'd to Mahomet, With easier working; I durst vndertake Vpon the pawne and forfeit of my life. With halfe those words to flat a Puritanes wife, But she is closse and good;—yet 'tis a doubt by this time; oh the mother, the mother? I neuer thought their sex had beene a wonder, Vntill this minute? what fruite from the Mother? Now must I blister my soule, be forsworne, Or shame the woman that receiu'd mee first, I will be true, thou liu'st not to proclaime, Spoke to a dying man, shame ha's no shame. My Lord. Whose that? Heres none but I my Lord. What would thy hast vtter? Comfort. Welcome. The Maide being dull, hauing no minde to trauell, Into vnknowne lands, what did me I straight, But set spurs to the Mother; golden spurs, Will put her to a false gallop in a trice, Ist possible that in this. The Mother should be dambd before the daughter? Oh, that's good manners my Lord, the Mother for her age must goe formost you know. Thou'st spoke that true but where comes in this comfort. In a fine place my Lord—the vnnaturall mother, Did with her tong so hard be set her honor, That the poore foole was struck to silent wonder, Yet still the maid like an vnlighted Taper, Was cold and chast, saue that her Mothers breath, Did blowe fire on her checkes, the girle departed, But the good antient Madam halfe mad, threwe me These promissing words, which I tooke deepely note of; My Lord shall be most wellcome, Faith I thanke her, When his pleasure conducts him this way. That shall be soone ifath, I will sway mine owne,