Middleton, Thomas · published 1608 · first performed or written 1606 [1604-1607] (Annals) comedy · Children of Paul's (second) unassigned nearest T62 The courtier as a type: fashion, affecta · 503 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T62: courtier, shrug, face, court, italian, monsieur, scholar, fashion, french, courtiers.
So, how like you our Airs my Lord? are they choice? they're seldom matched believe it. The Consort of mine own household. Ye sir. The musicians are in Ordinary, yet no ordinary musicians: your Lordship shall hear my Organs now. Oh I beseech you sir Bounteous. My Organist. Come my L. how does your honour relish my Organ? A very proud Air i'faith sir. Oh, how can't choose, a Walloon plays upon 'em, and a Welshman blows wind in their breech. You must pardon us my L. hasty cates, your honour has had e'en a hunting meal on't; and now I am like to bring your Lordship to as mean a lodging, a hard Down bed i'faith my L. poor cambric sheets, and a cloth a Tissue Canopy, the Curtains indeed were wrought in Venice, with the story of the Prodigal child in silk and gold, only the Swine are left out my L. for spoiling the curtains. 't was well prevented sir. silken rest, harmonious slumbers, and venerial dreams to your Lordship. The like to kind Sir Bounteous. Fie, not to me my L. I'm old, past dreaming of such vanities. Old men should dream best. Their dreams indeed my L. you'ave gi'n't us: tomorrow your Lordship shall see my Cocks, my Fishponds, my Park, my Champion grounds; I keep Champers in my house can show your Lordship some pleasure. Sir Bounteous you e'en whelm me with delights. Once again a musical night to your honour; I'll trouble your Lordship no more. Good rest sir Bounteous; so, come, the visards, where be the masking suits? In your Lordship's portmanteau. Peace Lieutenant. I had rather have war, Captain. Puh, the plot's ripe; come, to our business lad, Though guilt condemns, 'tis gilt must make us glad. Nay, and you be at your distinctions Captain, I'll follow behind no longer. Get you before then, and whelm your nose with your vizard, go. Now Grandsire, you that hold me at hard meat, And keep me out at the Dags end, I'll fit you; Under his Lordship's leave, all must be mine He and his Will confesses, what I take then Is but a borrowing of so much before hand; I'll pay him again when he dies, in so many blacks, I'll have the Church hung round with a noble a yard, Or requite him in Scutcheons, let him trap me In gold, and I'll lap him in lead; quid pro quo: I Must look none of his Angels in the face forsooth, Until his face be not worth looking on; Tut lads, Let Sires and Grandsires keep us low, we must Live when they're flesh, as well as when they're dust. Go, sirrah, run presently to M. Penitent Brothel; you know his lodging, knock him up, I know he cannot sleep for sighing; tell him I've happily bethought a mean, To make his purpose prosper in each limb, Which only rests to be approved by him: Make haste, I know he thirsts for't. Within. Oh.
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)
So, how like you our Ayres my Lord? are they choice? The're ſeldome match't beleeue it. The Conſort of mine owne houſhold. Yee ſir. The Muſitians are in Ordinary, yet no ordinary Muſitians: your Lordſhip ſhall heare my Organs now. Oh I beſeech you ſir Bounteous. My Organiſt. Come my L. how do's your honour relliſh my Organ? A very proud Ayre yfaith ſir. Oh, how can't chuſe, a Walloon plaies vpon e'm, and a Welchman blowes wind in their breech. You muſt pardon vs my L. haſty cates, your honor has had eu'n a hunting meale on't; and now I am like to bring your Lordſhip to as meane a lodging, a hard Downe bed yfaith my L. poore Cambricke ſheetes, and a cloth a Tiſſue Canopy, the Curtaines indeed were wrought in Venice, with the ſtory of the Prodigall child in ſilke and golde, onely the Swine are left out my L. for ſpoyling the curtaines. T' was well preuented ſir. Silkin reſt, harmonious ſlumbers, and venetiall dreames to your Lordſhip. The like to kind Sir Bounteous. Fie, not to me my L. I'me old, paſt dreaming of ſuch vanities. Old men ſhould dreame beſt. Their dreames indeed my L. y'aue gi'nt vs: tomorrow your Lordſhip ſhal ſee my Cockes, my Fiſh-ponds, my Parke, my Champion grounds; I keepe Champers in my houſe can ſhew your Lordſhip ſome pleaſure. Sir Bounteous you eu'n whelme me with delights. Once agen a muſicall night to your honor; Ile trouble your Lordſhip no more. Good reſt ſir Bounteous; ſo, come, the vizards, where be the masking ſuits? In your Lordſhips Portmantua. Peace Leiftenant. I had rather haue war, Captaine. Puh, the plot's ripe; come, to our buſines lad, Tho guilt condemnes, tis gilt muſt make vs glad. Nay, and you be at your diſtinctions Captaine, Ile follow behind no longer. Get you before then, and whelme your noſe with your vizard, goe. Now Grandſire, you that hold me at hard meat, And keepe me out at the Dags end, Ile fit you; Vnder his Lordſhips leaue, all muſt be mine He and his Will confeſſes, what I take then Is but a borrowing of ſo much before hand; Ile pay him agen when he dies, in ſo many blacks, Ile haue the Church hung round with a noble a yard, Or requite him in Scutchions, let him trap me In gold, and Ile lap him in lead; quid pro quo: I Muſt looke none of his Angels in the face forſooth, Vntill his face be not worth looking on; Tut lads, Let Sires and Grandſires keepe vs low, we muſt Liue when the're fleſh, as well as when the're duſt. Go, ſirrah, run preſently to M. Penitent Brothel; you know his lodging, knocke him vp, I know he cannot ſleepe for ſighing; tell him I'ue happily bethought a meane, To make his purpoſe proſper in each limbe, Which onely reſts to be approu'd by him: Make haſt, I know he thirſts for't. Within. Oh.