Jonson, Ben · published 1609 · first performed or written 1597 [1597-1598; interpolations later] (Annals) comedy · Pembroke's Men unassigned nearest T16 Gallantry: ladies, lordships and complim · 480 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T16: lady, madam, gentleman, lordship, ladies, honour, mistress, sweet, court, servant.
'tis much pity Madam. You should have any reason to retain This sign of grief, much less the thing designed. Griefs are more fit for Ladies then their pleasures. That is for such as follow nought but pleasures. But you that temper them so well with virtues, Using your griefs so it would prove them pleasures. And you would seem in cause of griefs & pleasures equally pleasant. Sir so I do now. It is the excess of either that I strive So much to shun in all my proved endeavours, Although perhaps unto a general eye, I may appear most wedded to my griefs, Yet doth my mind forsake no taste of pleasure, I mean that happy pleasure of the soul, Divine and sacred contemplation Of that eternal, and most glorious bliss. Proposed as the crown unto our souls. I will be silent, yet that I may serve But as a Decade in the art of memory To put you still in mind of your own virtues When your too serious thoughts make you too sad) Accept me for your servant honoured Lady. Those ceremonies are too common signor Francis, For your uncommon gravity, and judgement, And fits them only, that are nought but ceremony. Come, I will not sue, stally to be your servant, But a new term, will you be my refuge? Your refuge, why sir. That I might fly to you, when all else fail me. And you be good at flying, be my Plover. Nay take away the P. Tut, than you cannot fly. I'll warrant you. I'll borrow Cupid's wings. Mass then I fear me you'll do strange things: I pray you blame me not, if I suspect you, Your own confession simply doth detect you, Nay and you be so great in Cupid's books, 'twill make me jealous. you can with your looks (I warrant you) inflame a woman's heart, And at your pleasure take loves golden dart, And wound the breast of any virtuous maid. Would I were hence: good Faith I am afraid, You can constrain one ere they be aware, To run mad for your love? O this is rate. Close with my daughter's gentlemen? well done, 'tis like yourselves: nay lusty Angelo, Let not my presence make you balk your sport, I will not break a minute of discourse Twixt you and one of your fair Mistresses. One of my mistresses? why thinks your Lordship I have so many Many? no Angelo. I do not think thoust many, some fourteen I hear thou hast, even of our worthiest dames, Of any note, in Milan: Nay good my Lord fourteen: it is not so. Byth' the Mass that is't, here are their names to show fourteen, or fifteen t'one. Good Angelo. You need not be ashamed of any of them, They are gallants all. 'sblood you are such a Lord.
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)
Tis much pitty Maddam. You ſhould haue any reaſon to retaine This ſigne of griefe, much leſſe the thing diſignde. Griefes are more fit for Ladies then their pleaſures. That is for ſuch as follow nought but pleaſures. But you that temper them ſo wel with vertues, Vſing your griefes ſo it would prooue them pleaſures. And you would ſeeme in cauſe of griefes & pleaſures equally pleaſant. Sir ſo I do now. It is the exceſſe of either that I ſtriue So much to ſhun in all my proou'd endeauours, Although perhaps vnto a generall eye, I may appeare moſt wedded to my griefes, Yet doth my mind forſake no taſt of pleaſure, I meane that happy pleaſure of the ſoule, Deuine and ſacred contemplation Of that eternall, and moſt glorious bliſſe. Propoſed as the crowne vnto our ſoules. I will be ſilent, yet that I may ſerue But as a Decade in the art of memory To put you ſtil in mind of your owne vertues When your too ſerious thoughts make you too ſad) Accept me for your ſeruant honored Lady. Thoſe cerimonies are too comon ſignior Francis, For your vncommon grauitie, and iudgement, And fits them onely, that are nought but cerimony. Come, I will not ſue, ſtally to be your ſeruant, But a new tearme, will you be my refuge? Your refuge, why ſir. That I might fly to you, when all elſe faile me. And you be good at flying, be my Plouer. Nay take away the P. Tut, then you cannot fly. Ile warrant you. Ile borrow Cupids wings. Maſſe then I feare me youle do ſtrange things: I pray you blame me not, if I ſuſpect you, Your owne confeſſion ſimply doth detect you, Nay and you be ſo great in Cupids bookes, T'will make me Iealous. you can with your lookes (I warrant you) enflame a womans heart, And at your pleaſure take loues golden dart, And wound the breſt of any vertous maide. Would I were hence: good Faith I am affraid, You can conſtraine one ere they be aware, To run mad for your loue? O this is rate. Cloſe with my daughters gentlemen? wel done, Tis like your ſelues: nay luſty Angelo, Let not my preſence make you bauke your ſport, I will not breake a minute of diſcourſe Twixt you and one of your faire Miſtreſſes. One of my miſtreſſes? why thinks your Lordſhip I haue ſo many Many? no Angelo. I do not thinke th'aſt many, ſome fourteene I here thou haſt, euen of our worthieſt dames, Of any note, in Millaine: Nay good my Lord fourteene: it is not ſo. By'th the Maſſe that iſt, here are their names to ſhew Fourteene, or fifteene t'one. Good Angelo. You need not be aſhamd of any of them, They are gallants all. Sbloud you are ſuch a Lord.