Jonson, Ben · published 1609 · first performed or written 1597 [1597-1598; interpolations later] (Annals) comedy · Pembroke's Men unassigned nearest T51 Parents and children: blessing, birthrig · 501 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T51: esau, iacob, father, son, isaac, god, love, birthright, parents, thing.
Alas poor gentleman, my father's rage Is too extreme, too stern and violent O that I knew with all my strongest powers, How to remove it from thy patient breast, But that I cannot, yet my willing heart, Shall minister in spite of tyranny To thy misfortune, something there is in him, That doth enforce this strange affection, With more than common rapture in my breast: For being but Gasper, he is still as dear To me, as when he did Chamount appear. But in good sadness signor, do you think Chamount will return? Do I see your face, Lady? I sure, if love have not blinded you. That is a question, but I will assure you no, I can see, and yet love is in mine eye: well, the Count your father simply hath dishonoured me: and this steel shall engrave it on his burgonet. Nay, sweet signor. Lady, I do prefer my reputation to my life, But you shall rule me, come let's march. I'll follow signor, o sweet Queen of love! Sovereign of all my thoughts, and thou fair fortune, Who (more to honour my affections) Hast thus translated Gasper to Chamount. Let both your flames now burn in one bright spear; And give true light to my aspiring hopes, Hasten Chamount's return, let him affect me, Though father, friends, and all the world reject me. Sigh for a woman, would I fold mine arms, Rave in my sleep, talk idly being awake, Pine and look pale, make love-walks in the night, To steal cold comfort from a day-star's eyes. Kit, thou art a fool, wilt thou be wise? then lad Renounce this boy-god's nice idolatry, Stand not on complement, and wooing tricks, Thou lovest old Iaques daughter, dost thou? Love her? Come, come, I know't, be ruled and she's thine own, thou'lt say her father Iaques, the old beggar, Hath pawned his word to thee, that none but thou, Shalt be his son in law. He has. He has? wilt thou believe him, and be made a cook, To wait on such an antic wether cock; Why he is more inconstant than the sea, His thoughts, chameleon-like, change every minute: No Kit, work soundly, steal the wench away, Wed her, and bed her, and when that is done, Then say to Iaques, shall I be your son? But come to our device, where is this gold? Here signor Angelo. Bestow it, bid thy hands shed golden drops, Let these bald french crowns be uncovered, In open sight, to do obeisance To Iaques staring eyes when he steps forth, The needy beggar will be glad of gold. So, now keep thou aloof, and as he treads This guilded path, stretch out his ambling hopes, With scattering more & more, & as thou go'st, cry Iaques, Iaques Tust, let me alone. First i'll play the ghost, I'll call him out, Kit keep aloof. But signor Angelo. Where will yourself and Rachel stay for me, after the jest is ended?
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)
Alas poore gentleman, my fathers rage Is too extreame, too ſterne and violent O that I knew with all my ſtrongeſt powers, How to remoue it from thy patient breaſt, But that I cannot, yet my willing heart, Shall miniſter in ſpight of tyranny To thy miſfortune, ſomething there is in him, That doth enforce this ſtrange affection, With more then common rapture in my breaſt: For being but Gaſper, he is ſtill as deare To me, as when he did Chamount appeare. But in good ſadneſſe Signior, do you thinke Chamount will returne? Do I ſee your face, Lady? I ſure, if loue haue not blinded you. That is a queſtion, but I will aſſure you no, I can ſee, and yet loue is in mine eye: well, the Count your father ſimply hath diſhonor'd me: and this ſteele ſhall engraue it on his burgonet. Nay, ſweet Signior. Lady, I do preferre my reputation to my life, But you ſhall rule me, come lets march. Ile follow Signior, ô ſweet Queene of loue! Soueraigne of all my thoughts, and thou faire fortune, Who (more to honour my affections) Haſt thus tranſlated Gaſper to Chamount. Let both your flames now burne in one bright ſpeare; And giue true light to my a ſpiring hopes, Haſten Chamounts returne, let him affect me, Though father, friends, and all the world reiect me. Sigh for a woman, would I fould mine armes, Raue in my ſleepe, talke idly being awake, Pine and looke pale, make loue-walkes in the night, To ſteale cold comfort from a day-ſtarres eyes. Kit, thou art a foole, wilt thou be wiſe? then lad Renounce this boy-gods nice idolatry, Stand not on complement, and wooing trickes, Thou loueſt old Iaques daughter, doeſt thou? Loue her? Come, come, I know't, be rul'd and ſhees thine owne, Thou't ſay her father Iaques, the old begger, Hath pawnd his word to thee, that none but thou, Shalt be his ſonne in law. He has. He has? wilt thou beleeue him, and be made a kooke, To waite on ſuch an antique wether cocke; Why he is more inconſtant then the ſea, His thoughts, Cameleon-like, change euery minute: No Kit, worke ſoundly, ſteale the wench away, Wed her, and bed her, and when that is done, Then ſay to Iaques, ſhall I be your ſonne? But come to our deuiſe, where is this gold? Heere Signior Angelo. Beſtow it, bid thy hands ſhed golden drops, Let theſe bald french crownes be vncouered, In open ſight, to do obeyſance To Iaques ſtaring eyes when he ſteps forth, The needy beggar will be glad of gold. So, now keepe thou alooſe, and as he treades This guilded path, ſtretch out his ambling hopes, With ſcattring more & more, & as thou go'ſt, cry Iaques, Iaques Tuſt, let me alone. Firſt ile play the ghoſt, Ile cal him out, Kit keep aloofe. But Signior Angelo. Where wil your ſelfe and Rachel ſtay for me, after the ieſt is ended?