Anonymous · published 1608 · first performed or written 1602 [1599-1604] (Annals) comedy · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men · Globe unassigned nearest T28 Marriage-making: weddings, brides and ma · 500 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T28: married, marriage, wedding, day, bride, father, wife, luce, love, husband.
Come boy and make me this same groaning love, Troubled with stitches, and the cough a'th' lungs, That wept his eyes out when he was a child, And ever since hath shot at hoodman-blind, Make her leap, caper, jerk and laugh and sing, And play me horse-tricks, Make Cupid wanton as his mother's dove, But, in this sort boy I would have thee love. Why how now madcap? what my lusty Frank, So near a wife, and will not tell your friend? But you will to this gear in hugger-mugger, Art thou turned miser Rascal in thy loves? Who I? 'sblood, what should all you see in me, That I should look like a married man? ha, Am I bald? are my legs too little for my hose? If I feel any thing in my forehead, I am A villain, do I wear a nightcap? do I bend in the hams? What dost thou see in me that I should be towards marriage, ha? What thou married? let me look upon thee, Rogue, who has given out this of thee? how camest thou into this ill name? what company Hast thou been in Rascal? You are the man sir, must have Millescent, The match is making in the garden now, Her jointure is agreed on, and th'old men Your father's mean to launch their busy bags, But in mean time to thrust Mountchensey off, For colour of this new intended match. Fair Millescent to Cheshunt must be sent, To take the approbation for a Nun. near look upon me lad, the match is done. Raymond Mountchensey, now I touch thy grief, With the true feeling of a zealous friend. And as for fair and beauteous Millescent, With my vain breath I will not seek to slubber, Her angel like perfections, but thou know'st, That Essex hath the Saint that I adore, Where ere did we meet thee and wanton springs, That like a wag thou hast not laughed at me, And with regardless jesting mocked my love? Now many a sad and weary summer night, My sighs have drunk the dew from off the earth, I have taught the watchful nightingale to wake, And from the meadows spring the early lark, An hour before she would have risen to sing, I have loaded the poor minutes with my moans, That I have made the heavy slow paced hours, To hang like heavy clogs upon the day. But dear Mounchensey, had not my affection Seized on the beauty of another dame, Before I would give o'er the chase and wrong the love, Of one so worthy and so true a friend, I will abjure both beauty and her sight, And will in love become a counterfeit. Dear Ierningham, thou hast begot my life, And from the mouth of he I where now I sat, I feel my spirit rebound against the stars: Thou hast conquered me dear friend in my free soul, Their time or death can by their power control.
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)
Come boy and make me this same groning loue, Troubled with stitches, and the cough a'th lungs, That wept his eyes out when he was a childe, And euer since hath shot at hudman-blind, Make her leape, caper, ierke and laugh and sing, And play me horse-trickes, Make Cupid wanton as his mothers doue, But, in this sort boy I would haue thee loue. Why how now mad-cap? what my lusty Franke, So neere a wife, and will not tell your friend? But you will to this geere in hugger-mugger, Art thou turnde miser Rascall in thy loues? Who I? z'blood, what should all you see in me, That I should looke like a married man? ha, Am I balde? are my legs too little for my hose? If I feele any thing in my forehead, I am A villain, doe I weare a night-cap? doe I bend in the hams? What dost thou see in me that I should be towards marriage, ha? What thou married? let me looke vpon thee, Rogue, who has giuen out this of thee? how camst thou into this ill name? what company Hast thou bin in Rascall? You are the man sir, must haue Millescent, The match is making in the garden now, Her ioynture is agreed on, and th'old men Your fathers meane to lanch their busy bags, But in meane time to thrust Mountchensey off, For colour of this new intended match. Faire Millescent to Cheston must be sent, To take the approbation for a Nun. Nere looke vpon me lad, the match is done. Raymond Mountchensey, now I touch thy griefe, With the true feeling of a zealous friend. And as for faire and beauteous Millescent, With my vaine breath I will not seeke to ssubber, Her angell like perfections, but thou know'st, That Essex hath the Saint that I adore, Where ere did we meete thee and wanton springs, That like a wag thou hast not laught at me, And with regardles iesting mockt my loue? Now many a sad and weary summer night, My sighs haue drunke the dew from off the earth, I haue taught the watchfull Niting-gale to wake, And from the meadowes spring the earely larke, An houre before she would haue rose to sing, I haue loaded the poore minutes with my moanes, That I haue made the heauy slow pasde houres, To hang like heauie clogs vpon the day. But deere Mounchensey, had not my affection Seasde on the beauty of another dame, Before I would giue o're the chase and wronge the loue, Of one so worthy and so true a friend, I will abiure both beauty and her sight, And will in loue become a counterfeit. Deere Ierningham, thou hast begot my life, And from the mouth of he I where now I sate, I feele my spirit rebound against the stars: Thou hast conquerd me deere friend in my free soule, Their time or death can by their power controule.