Jonson, Ben · published 1609 · first performed or written 1597 [1597-1598; interpolations later] (Annals) comedy · Pembroke's Men unassigned nearest T14 Royal love, favour and dynastic relation · 528 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T14: prince, princess, love, king, lord, queen, madam, grace, lady, life.
He's gone: I knew it; this is our hot lover, I will believe them! I! they may come in Like simple wooers, and be arrant thieves, And I not know them! 'tis not to be told, What servile villainies, men will do for gold, O it began to have a huge strong smell, Which lying so long together in a place; I'll give it vent, it shall ha' shift enough, And if the devil, that envies all goodness, Have told them of my gold, and where I kept it, I'll set his burning nose once more a work, To smell where I removed it, here it is: I'll hide and cover it with this horse-dung: Who will suppose that such a precious nest Is crowned with such a dunghill excrement? In my dear life, sleep sweetly my dear child. " Scarce lawfully begotten, but yet gotten, And that's enough. Rot all hands that come near thee Except mine own. Burn out all eyes that see thee, Except mine own. All thoughts of thee be poison To their enamoured hearts, except mine own, I'll take no leave, sweet Prince great Emperor, But see thee every minute, King of Kings, I'll not be rude to thee, and turn my back, In going from thee, but go backward out: With my face toward thee, with humble courtesies, None is within. None overlooks my wall. To have gold, and to have it safe, is all. Lord Chamount and your valiant friend there, I cannot say welcome to Milan: your thoughts and that word are not musical, but I can say you are come to Milan. Mort diew. Gar soon. Gentlemen (I would call an Emperor so) you are now my prisoners, I am sorry, marry this, spit in the face of your fortunes, for your usage shall be honourable. we know it signor Maximilian, The fame of all your actions sounds nought else, But perfect honour from her swelling cheeks. It shall do so still I assure you, and I will give you reason, there is in this last action (you know) a noble gentleman of our party, & a right valiant; semblably prisoner to your general, as your honoured self's to me, for whose safety, this tongue hath given warrant to his honourable father, the Count Ferneze. You conceive me. I signor. Well? than I must tell you your ransoms be to redeem him, what think you? your answer. Marry with my Lords leave here I say signor, This free & ample offer you have made, Agrees well with your honour, but not ours: For I think not but Chamount is as well borne As is Ferneze, then if I mistake not, He scorns to have his worth so underprized, That it should need an adjunct, in exchange, Of any equal fortune, Noble signor? I am a soldier, and I love Chamount, Ere I would bruise his estimation, With the least ruin of mine own respect, In this vild kind, these legs should rot with irons, This body pine in prison, till the flesh Dropped from my bones in flakes, like withered leaves, In heart of Autumn, from a stubborn Oak.
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)
He's gone: I knew it; this is our hot louer, I will beleeue them! I! they may come in Like ſimple woers, and be arrant theeues, And I not know them! tis not to be told, What ſeruile villanies, men will do for gold, O it began to haue a huge ſtrong ſmell, Which lying ſo long together in a place; Ile giue it vent, it ſhall ha ſhift inough, And if the diuell, that enuies all goodneſſe, Haue told them of my gold, and where I kept it, Ile ſet his burning noſe once more a worke, To ſmell where I remou'd it, here it is: Ile hide and couer it with this horſe-dung: Who will ſuppoſe that ſuch a precious net Is crownd with ſuch a dunghill excrement? In my deere life, ſleepe ſweetly my deere child. "Scarce lawfully begotten, but yet gotten, "And thats enough. Rot all hands that come neere thee Except mine owne. Burne out all eyes that ſee thee, Except mine owne. All thoughts of thee be poyſon To their enamor'd harts, except mine owne, Ile take no leaue, ſweet Prince great Emperour, But ſee thee euery minute, King of Kings, Ile not be rude to thee, and turne my backe, In going from thee, but go backward out: With my face toward thee, with humble curteſies, None is within. None ouerlookes my wall. To haue gold, and to haue it ſafe, is all. Lord Chamount and your valient friend there, I cannot ſay welcome to Millaine: your thoughts and that word are not muſicall, but I can ſay you are come to Millaine. Mort diew. Gar ſoone. Gentlemen (I would cal an Emperour ſo) you are now my priſoners, I am ſorry, marry this, ſpit in the face of your fortunes, for your vſage ſhall be honorable. Wee know it ſignior Maximilian, The fame of al your actions ſounds nought elſe, But perfect honour from her ſwelling cheeks. It ſhall do ſo ſtill I aſſure you, and I will giue you reaſon, there is in this laſt action (you know) a noble gentleman of our party, & a right valient; ſemblably priſoner to your general, as your honor'd ſelfe's to me, for whoſe ſafety, this tongue hath giuen warrant to his honorable father, the Count Ferneze. You conceiue me. I ſignior. Well? then I muſt tell you your ranſomes be to redeeme him, what thinke you? your anſwer. Marry with my Lords leaue here I ſay ſignior, This free & ample offer you haue made, Agrees well with your honour, but not ours: For I thinke not but Chamount is aſwell borne As is Ferneze, then if I miſtake not, He ſcornes to haue his worth ſo vnderpriſed, That it ſhould neede an adiunct, in exchange, Of any equall fortune, Noble Signior? I am a ſouldier, and I loue Chamount, Ere I would bruſe his eſtimation, With the leaſt ruine of mine owne reſpect, In this vild kind, theſe legs ſhould rot with irons, This body pine in priſon, till the fleſh Dropt from my bones in flakes, like withered leaues, In heart of Autumne, from a ſtubborne Oke.