Anonymous · published 1609 · first performed or written 1607 [1599-1608] (Annals) comedy · Children of the King's Revels unassigned nearest T49 Wooing a mistress: suitors, go-betweens · 471 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T49: mistress, gentleman, love, lady, woman, pray, gentlewoman, hear, honest, way.
Her body lighter than the feathered crest. Another powtes and scoules, and hangs the lip, Even as the bankrupt credit of her husband, Cannot equal her with honours livery, What doth she care, if for to deck her brave, he's carried from a Gatehouse to his grave. Another in a railing pulppet key, Draws through her nose the accent of her voice, And in the presence of her good man Goat, Cries fie, now fie upon these wicked men. That use such beastly and inhuman talk: When being in private, all her studies warn, To make him enter into Capricorn. Another as she goes, treads a Canary pace, jets it so fine, and minces so demure, As mistress Bride upon her marriage day: Her heels are Cork, her body Atlas, Her Beauty bought, her soul an Atomus. Another with a spleen devoured face, Her eyes as hollow as Anatomy: Her tongue more venom than a Serpent's sting, Which when it wags within her chap-faln jaws, Is noise more horrid than a cry of hounds With open mouths, pursuing of their game, Wants she but rich attire or costly diet, With her the Devil can near live in quiet. Yet these are weaker vessels, heaven doth know, Lay on them ought but ease, you do them wrong: They are as weak as water, and indeed as strong, And then like mighty ships, when pellets sink, To them lay more men, she'll never shrink. Mistress, that face wants a fresh Gloss. Prithee dib it in well Bos. Pigmaleon, Pigmaleon, I conjure thee appear, To work, to work, make more Marble Ingles, Nature, thou art a fool, Art is above thee: Belzebub, paint thy face, there's some will love thee. Rare, Mistress, here's a cheek like a Chameleon or a blazing Star: you shall here me blaze it, here's two saucers sanguine in a sable field, pomegranate, a pure pendant, Ready to drop out of the stable, a pin and web argent in hair de Roy. And a fools head in the Crest. In the Crest? oh sweet Vermilion mistress! 'tis pity the Vermilion Worms should eat thee, i'll set it with precious stones and ye will. Enough sweet Boss, throw a little water to spurt's face and let's away. Hold up, so sir now away: oh Mistress your scantling, most sweet mistress most derydent star. Then most rydent stars fair fall ye. Nay sure 'tis the Moon herself, for there's her man and her Dog before. I sir, but the man is not in the moon, & my bushis before me, ergo not at my back, et ergo, not moon sir. What's your will sir? That you would leave us. Leave you, zounds sir, we scorn their companies, come, they are still, do not open to them, we have no Coneys to catch.
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)
Her body lighter then the feathered creſt. Another powtes and ſcoules, and hangs the lip, Euen as the banckrout credit of her huſband, Cannot equall her with honors liuerie, What doth ſhe care, if for to decke her braue, Hee's carryed from a Gate-houſe to his graue. Another in a rayling pulppet key, Drawes through her noſe the accent of her voice, And in the preſence of her good man Goate, Cries fye, now fye vppon theſe wicked men. That vſe ſuch beaſtly and inhumane talke: When being in priuate, all her ſtudies warne, To make him enter into Capricorne. Another as ſhe goes, treads a Canarie pace, Iets it ſo fine, and minces ſo demure, As miſtris Bride vpon her marriage day: Her heeles are Corke, her body Atlas, Her Beautie bought, her ſoule an Atomus. Another with a ſpleene deuoured face, Her eies as hollow as Anatomy: Her tung more venome then a Serpents ſting, Which when it wagges within her chap-faln iawes, Is noiſe more horrid then a cry of hounds With open mouthes, purſuing of their game, Wants ſhe but ritch attire or coſtly dyet, With her the Deuill can nere liue in quiet. Yet theſe are weaker veſſels, heauen doth knowe, Lay on them ought but eaſe, you doe them wrong: They are as weake as water, and indeede as ſtrong, And then like mightie ſhips, when pellets ſincke, To them lay more men, ſheele neuer ſhrinke. Miſtris, that face wants a freſh Gloſſe. Prethee dib it in well Bos. Pigmaleon, Pigmaleon, I coniure thee appeare, To worke, to worke, make more Marble Ingles, Nature, thou art a foole, Art is aboue thee: Belzebub, paint thy face, there's ſome will loue thee. Rare, Miſtris, heeres a cheeke like a Camelion or a blaſing Star: you ſhall heere me blaze it, heere's two ſaucers ſanguine in a ſable field, pomegranet, a pure pendāt, Ready to drop out of the ſtable, a pin and web argent in hayre de Roy. And a fooles head in the Creſt. In the Creſt? oh ſweete Vermilion miſtris! tis pittie the Vermilion Wormes ſhould eate thee, ile ſet it with pretious ſtones and ye will. Enough ſweete Boſſe, throwe a little water to ſpurt's face and lets away. Hold vp, ſo ſir now away: oh Miſtris your ſcantling, moſt ſweete miſtris moſt derydent ſtarre. Then moſt rydent ſtarres faire fall ye. Nay ſure tis the Moone her ſelfe, for there's her man and her Dogge before. I ſir, but the man is not in the moon, & my buſhis before me, ergo not at my backe, et ergo, not moone ſir. What's your will ſir? That you would leaue vs. Leaue you, zoundes ſir, we ſcorne their companies, come, they are ſtill, doe not open to them, we haue no Conies to catch.