Anonymous · published 1608 · first performed or written 1602 [1599-1604] (Annals) comedy · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men · Globe unassigned nearest T27 Uncles, nephews and cousins: kinship and · 509 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T27: uncle, niece, nephew, gentlemen, faith, cousin, wife, house, gentleman, money.
Command me sir, I am affected to you For your Mounchensey's sake. Alas for him, I not respect whether he sink or swim, A word in private Sir Raph Ierningham. methinks your father looketh strangely on me, Say love, why are you sad? I am not sweet, Passion is strong, when woe with woe doth meet. Shall's in to breakfast, after we'll conclude The cause of this our coming, in and feed, And let that usher a more serious deed. Whilst you desire his grief, my heart shall bleed. Raymond Mounchensey come be frolic friend, This is the day thou hast expected long. Pray God dear Harry Clare it prove so happy. There's nought can alter it, be merry lad. There's nought shall alter it, be lively Raymond, Stand any opposition 'gainst thy hope, Art shall confront it with her largest scope. Good old Mounchensey, is thy hap so ill, That for thy bounty and thy royal parts, Thy kind alliance should be held in scorn, And after all these promises by Clare, Refuse to give his daughter to thy son, Only because thy Revenues cannot reach, To make her dowage of so rich a jointure, As can the heir of wealthy Ierningham? And therefore is the false fox now in hand, To strike a match betwixt her and th'other, And the old graybeards now are close together, Plotting it in the garden. Is't even so? Raymond Mounchensey, boy, have thou and I Thus long at Cambridge read the liberal Arts, The Metaphysics, Magic, and those parts, Of the most secret deep philosophy? Have I so many melancholy nights Watched on the top of Peter-house highest tower? And come we back unto our native home, For want of skill to lose the wench thou lov'st? we'll first hang Enfield in such rings of mist As never rose from any dampish fen, I'll make the brined sea to rise at Ware, And drown the marshes unto Stratford bridge, I'll drive the deer from Waltham in their walks, And scatter them like sheep in every field: We may perhaps be crossed, but if we be, He shall cross the devil that but crosses me. But here comes Raymond disconsolate & sad, And here's the gallant that must have the wench. I prithee Raymond leave these solemn dumps, Revive thy spirits, thou that before hast been, More watchful than the day-proclaiming cock, As sportive as a Kid, as frank and merry As mirth herself. If aught in me may thy content procure, It is thine own thou mayst thyself assure. Ha Ierningham, if any but thyself Had spoke that word, it would have come as cold As the bleak Northern winds, upon the face Of winter. From thee they have some power upon my blood, Yet being from thee, had but that hollow sound, Come from the lips of any living man, It might have won the credit of mine ear, From thee it cannot. If I understand thee, I am a villain, What, dost thou speak in parables to thy friends?
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)
Command me sir, I am affected to you For your Mounchenseys sake. Alas for him, I not respect whether he sinke or swim, A word in priuate Sir Raph Ierningham. Me thinks your father looketh strangely on me, Say loue, why are you sad? I am not sweete, Passion is strong, when woe with woe doth meete. Shall's in to breakfast, after wee'l conclude The cause of this our comming, in and feed, And let that vsher a more serious deed. Whilst you desire his griefe, my heart shall bleed. Raymond Mounchensey come be frolick friend, This is the day thou hast expected long. Pray God deere Harry Clare it proue so happy. There's nought can alter it, be merry lad. There's nought shall alter it, be liuely Raymond, Stand any opposition gainst thy hope, Art shall confront it with her largest scope. Good old Mounchensey, is thy hap so ill, That for thy bounty and thy royall parts, Thy kind alliance should be held in scorne, And after all these promises by Clare, Refuse to giue his daughter to thy sonne, Onely because thy Reuenues cannot reach, To make her dowage of so rich a ioynture, As can the heire of wealthy Ierningham? And therefore is the false foxe now in hand, To strike a match betwixt her and th'other, And the old gray-beards now are close together, Plotting it in the garden. Is't euen so? Raymond Mounchensey, boy, haue thou and I Thus long at Cambridge read the liberall Arts, The Metaphysickes, Magicke, and those parts, Of the most secret deepe philosophy? Haue I so many mclancholy nights Watch'd on the top of Peter-house highest tower? And come we backe vnto our natiue home, For want of skill to lose the wench thou lou'st? Weele first hang Enuill in such rings of miste As neuer rose from any dampish fenne, Ile make the brinde sea to rise at Ware, And drowne the marshes vnto Stratford bridge, Ile driue the Deere from Waltham in their walkes, And scatter them like sheepe in euery field: We may perhaps be crost, but if we be, He shall crosse the deuill that but crosses me. But here comes Raymond disconsolate & sad, And heeres the gallant that must haue the wench. I pri'thee Raymond leaue these solemne dumps, Reuiue thy spirits, thou that before hast beene, More watchfull then the day-proclayming cocke, As sportiue as a Kid, as francke and merry As mirth her selfe. If ought in me may thy content procure, It is thine owne thou mayst thy selfe assure. Ha Ierningham, if any but thy selfe Had spoke that word, it would haue come as cold As the bleake Northerne winds, vpon the face Of winter. From thee they haue some power vpon my blood, Yet being from thee, had but that hollow sound, Come from the lips of any liuing man, It might haue won the credite of mine eare, From thee it cannot. If I vnderstand thee, I am a villain, What, dost thou speake in parables to thy friends?