Anonymous · published 1608 · first performed or written 1602 [1599-1604] (Annals) comedy · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men · Globe unassigned nearest T11 Siblings, kin and confidants · 495 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T11: sister, brother, love, friend, heart, father, mother, woman, lord, hear.
And I must take a twelvemonth's approbation, That in mean time this sole and private life, At the years end may fashion me a wife: But sweet Mounchensey ere this year be done, Thou'st be a friar if that I be a Nun; And father ere young Jerningham's I'll be, I will turn mad to spite both him and thee. Wife come to horse, and housewife make you ready, For if I live, I swear by this good light, I'll see you lodged in Cheshunt house tonight. Raymond away, thou seest how matters fall, Churl, hell consume thee and thy pelf and all. Now M. Clare, you see how matters fadge, Your Milliscent must needs be made a Nun: Well sir, we are the men must ply this match, Hold you your peace and be a looker on, And send her unto Cheshunt where he will, Ile send mee fellowes of a handful hic, Into the Cloisters where the Nuns frequent, Shall make them skip like Does about the Dale, And make the Lady prioress of the house to play at leapfrog naked in their smocks, Until the merry wenches at their mass, Cry tee-hee wee-hee, And tickling these mad lasses in their flanks, Shall sprawl and squeak, and pinch their fellow Nuns. Be lively boys, before the wench we lose, I'll make the abbess wear the canon's hoof. Spite now hath done her worst, sister be patient, Forewarned poor Raymond's company to heaven, When the composure of weak frailty meet, Upon this mart of dirt; O then weak love, Must in her own unhappiness be silent, And wink on all deformities. 'tis well; where's Raymond brother? where's my dear Mounchensey? Would we might weep together and then part, Our sighing parley would much ease my heart. Sweet beauty fold your sorrows in the thought, Of future reconcilement; let your tears Show you a woman; but be no farther spent than from the eyes; for (sweet) experience says, That love is firm that's flattered with delays. Alas sir, think you I shall ere be his? As sure as parting smiles on future bliss. Yond comes my friend, see he hath doted So long upon your beauty, that your want Will with a pale retirement waste his blood, For in true love, Music doth sweetly dwell, Severed these less worlds bear within them hell. Harry and Francke you are enjoined to wain your friendship from me, we must part the breath of all advised corruption, pardon me. Faith I must say so, you may think I love you, I breathe not, rougher spite do sever us, we'll meet by steal sweet friend by stealth you twain. Kisses are sweetest got with struggling pain. Our friendship dies not Raymond. Pardon me: I am busied, I have lost my faculties, And buried them in Millicent's clear eyes. Alas sweet Love what shall become of me? I must to Cheshunt to the nunnery, I shall near see thee more.
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)
And I must take a twelue moneths approbation, That in meane time this sole and priuate life, At the yeares end may fashion me a wife: But sweet Mounchensey ere this yeare be done, Thou'st be a frier if that I be a Nun; And father ere yong Ierninghams Ile bee, I will turne mad to spight both him and thee. Wife come to horse, and huswise make you ready, For if I liue, I sweare by this good light, Ile see you lodgde in Chesson house to night. Raymond away, thou seest how matters fall, Churle, hell consume thee and thy pelfe and all. Now M. Clare, you see how matters fadge, Your Milliscent must needes be made a Nun: VVell sir, we are the men must plie this match, Hold you your peace and be a looker on, And send her vnto Chesson where he will, Ile send mee fellowes of a handful hic, Into the Cloysters where the Nuns frequent, Shall make them skip like Does about the Dale, And make the Lady prioresse of the house to play at leape-froge naked in their smockes, Vntill the merry wenches at their masse, Cry teehee weehee, And tickling theese mad lasses in their flanckes, Shall sprawle and squeke, and pinch their fellow Nunnes. Be liuely boyes, before the wench we lose, Ile make the Abbas weare the Cannons hoose. Spight now hath done her worst, sister be patient, Forewarnd poore Raymonds company to heauen, When the composure of weake frailtie meete, Vpon this mart of durt; O then weake loue, Must in hir owne vnhappines be silent, And winck on all deformities. Tis well; Whers Raymond brother? whers my deere Mounchensey? Would wee might weepe together and then part, Our sighing parle would much ease my heart. Sweete beautie fould your sorrowes in the thought, Of future reconcilement; let your teares Shew you a woman; but be no farther spent then from the eyes; for (sweete) experience sayes, That loue is firme thats flattered with delayes. Alas sir, thinke you I shall ere be his? As sure as panting smiles on future blisse. Yond comes my friend, see he hath doted So long vpon your beautie, that your want Will with a pale retirement wast his blood, For in true loue, Musicke doth sweetly dwell, Seuerd theese lesse worlds beare within them hell. Harry and Francke you are enioynd to waine your friendship from mee, we must part the breath of all aduised corruption, pardon mee. Faith I must say so, you may thinke I loue you, I breath not, rougher spight do feuer vs, Weele meete by steale sweet friend by stealth you twaine. Kisses are sweetest got with strugling paine. Our friendship dies not Raymond. Pardon mee: I am busied, I haue lost my faculties, And buried them in Milliscents cleere eyes. Alas sweete Loue what shall become of me? I must to Chesson to the Nunry, I shall nere see thee more.