Your Five Gallants (The Five Witty Gallants) · chunk 6 of 40
Middleton, Thomas · published 1608 · first performed or written 1607 (Annals) comedy · Children of the Queen's Revels · Blackfriars unassigned nearest T33 Fathers, daughters and marriage negotiat · 480 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T33: daughter, marriage, father, love, davus, matter, son, chremes, wife, mother.
You do your Beauty's injury, sweet virgin, To lose the time they must rejoice in youth: There's no perfection in a woman placed But wastes itself though it be never wasted, Then judge your wrongs yourself. Good Master Fitsgrave? Through sorrow for the knight my father's death, (Whose being was the perfections of my joy: And crown of my desires,) I cannot yet, But forcedly, on marriage fix my heart, Yet heaven forbid I should deject your hopes Conceive not of me so uncharitably, I should bely my soul if I should say, You are the man I never should affect: I understand you thus far, you're a Gentleman Whom your estate and virtues may command To a far worthier breast, than this of mine, O cease, I dare not hear such blasphemy, What is without you worthy, I neglect, In you is placed the worth that I respect: Vouchsafe unequalled Virgin whereon I justly kept, Accept this worthless favour from your servants arm, the hallowed beads, The true and perfect number of my sighs. Mine cannot equal yours, yet in exchange, accept and wear it for my sake. even as my I'll rate it? Heart? Fitsgrave in such bosom single-loves? So close, and private with her? Observe hem, he grows proud and bold? Why was not this a general meeting? By her own consent, Death how I could taste his blood? See, the gentlemen, at my request do all present themselves? Manifold blisses wait on her desire, whose beauty and whose mind so many honour? I take your wishes thankfully?— kind gentlemen! all here assembled, over whose long suits, I near insulted, Not like that common sickness of our sex, Grew proud in the abundance of my suitors, Or number of the days they sued unto me. Dutiful sorrow for my father's death, Not wilful coyness hath my hours detained So long in silence: I'm left to mine own choice, so much the more My care calls on me If I err through love, 'tis I must chide myself, I cannot shift The fault unto my parents, they're at rest, And I shall sooner err through love, than wealth. Good. Excellent. That likes me well? Hope still. And my affections do pronounce you all. Worthy their pure and most entire deserts, Yet they can choose but one, Nor do I dissuade any of his hopes, (Because my heart is not yet thoroughly fixed, On marriage, or the man,) But crave the quiet respite of one month, The month unto this night, against which time, I do invite you all to that election, Which on my unstained faith, and Virgin promise, Shall light amongst no strangers, but yourselves: May this content you? Glad, and content. 'Tis a good time to leave, Till then, commend us to your gentlest thoughts. Enough. Ough. Hist, master Hist. Boy? how now? Look you sir.
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)
You do your Beauties iniury, ſweete virgin, To looſe the time they muſt reioyce in youth: Theres no perfection in a woman placed But waſts it ſelfe tho it be neuer waſted, Then iudge your wrongs your ſelfe. Good Maiſter Fitſgraue? Through ſorrow or the knight my fathers death, (Whoſe being was the perfections of myioye: And crowne of my deſires,) I cannot yet, But forcedly, on marriage fie my heart, Yet heauen forbid I ſhould deiect your hopes Conceiue not ofn eſo vncharitably, I ſhould belie my ſoule if I ſhould ſay, You are the man I neuer ſhould affect: I vnderſtand you thus far, you'r a Gentleman Whom your eſtate and vertues may command To a farre worthier breſt, then this of mine, O ceaſe, I dare not heare ſuch blaſphemy, What is without you worthie, I neglect, In you is placſt the worth that I reſpect: Vouchſaſe vnequalld Virgin whereon I iuſtly kept, Accept this worthleſſe fauor from your ſeruants arme, the hallowed beades, The true and perfect number of my fighs. Mine cannot equall yours, yet in exchange, accept and weare it for my ſake. Euen as my ile rae it? Heart? Fitſgraue in ſuch boſome ſingle-loues? So cloſe, and priuate with her? Obſerue hem, he growes proud and bould? Why was not this a generall meeting? By her owne conſent, Death how I could taſte his bloud? See, the gentlemen, at my requeſt do all preſent them-ſelues? Manifold bliſſes waite on her deſier, whoſe beauty and whoſe minde ſo many honour? I take your wiſhes thankfully? —kinde gentlemen! all here aſſembled, ouer whoſe long ſuites, I neare inſulted, Not like that common ſicknes of our ſexe, Grew proud in the aboundance of my ſuiters, Or number of the dayes they ſu'd vnto me. Dutifull ſorrow for my fathers death, Not willfull coyneſſe hath my howers detaind So long in ſilence: Im'e left to mine owne ehoyce, ſo much the more My care calls on me If I erre through loue, Tis I muſt chide my ſelfe, I cannot ſhift The fault vnto my parents, they're at reſt, And I ſhall ſooner erre through loue, then wealth. Good. Excellent. That likes me well? Hope ſtill. And my affections do pronounce you all▪ Worthy their pure and moſt intire deſerts, Yet they can chooſe but one, Nor doe I diſwade any of his hopes, (Becauſe my heart is not yet throughly fixt, On marriage, or the man,) But craue the quiet reſpite of one moneth, The moneth vnto this night, againſt which tim, I doe inuite you all to that election, Which on my vnſtained faith, and Virgin promiſe, Shall light amongſt no ſtrangers, but your ſelues: May this content you? Glad, and content. 'Tis a good time to leaue, Till then, commend vs to your gentleſt thoughts. Inough. Ough. Hiſt, maiſter Hiſt. Boye? how now? Looke you ſir.