The Roaring Girl, or Moll Cutpurse · chunk 6 of 47
Dekker, Thomas / Middleton, Thomas · published 1611 · first performed or written 1611 (Annals) comedy · Prince Henry's Men · Fortune unassigned nearest T49 Wooing a mistress: suitors, go-betweens · 505 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T49: mistress, gentleman, love, lady, woman, pray, gentlewoman, hear, honest, way.
thouart sick at heart, yet feelst it not: of all these, What Gentleman (but thou) knowing his disease Mortal, would shun the cure: oh Master Greenwit, Would you to such an Idol bow. Not I sir. here's Master Laxton, has he mind to a woman As thou hast. No not I sir. Sir I know it. There good parts are so rare, there bade so common, I will have nought to do with any woman. 'tis well done Master Laxton. Oh thou cruel boy, Thou wouldst with lust an old man's life destroy, Because thou seest I'm half way in my grave, Thou shovel'st dust upon me: would thou mightest have Thy wish, most wicked, most unnatural. Why sir, 'tis thought, sir Guy Fitz-allard's daughter Shall wed your son Sebastian. Sir Davy Dapper. I have upon my knees, wood this fond boy, To take that virtuous maiden. Hark you a word sir. You on your knees have cursed that virtuous maiden, And me for loving her, yet do you now Thus baffle me to my face: were not your knees In such entreats, give me Fitz-allard's daughter. I'll give thee ratsbane rather. Well then you know What dish I mean to feed upon. Hark Gentlemen, He swears to have this cutpurse drab, to spite my gall. Master Sebastian. I am deaf to you all. I'm so bewitched, so bound to my desires, Tears, prayers, threats, nothing can quench out those fires That burn within me. Her blood shall quench it then, Lose him not, oh dissuade him Gentlemen. He shall be weaned I warrant you. Before his eyes Lay down his shame, my grief, his miseries. No more, no more, away. I wash a Negro, Losing both pains and cost: but take thy flight, I'll be most near thee, when I'm least in sight. Wild Buck i'll hunt thee breathless, thou shalt run on, But I will turn thee when I'm not thought upon. Now sirrah what are you, leave your ape's tricks and speak. A letter from my Captain to your Worship. Oh, oh, now I remember 'tis to prefer thee into my service. To be a shifter under your worship's nose of a clean trencher, when there's a good bit upon't. Troth honest fellow— humh— ha— let me see, This knave shall be the axe to hew that down At which I stumble, has a face that promiseth Much of a villain, I will grind his wit, And if the edge prove fine make use of it. Come hither sirrah, canst thou be secret, ha. As two crafty Attorneys plotting the undoing of their clients. Didst never, as thou hast walked about this town Hear of a wench called Moll, mad merry Moll. Moll cutpurse sir. The same, dost thou know her then, as well as I know 'twill rain upon Simon and Iudes day next, I will sift all the taverns i'th' city, and drink half pots with all the Watermen ath bankside, but if you will sir I'll find her out.
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)
Th'art sicke at heart, yet feelst it not: of all these, What Gentleman (but thou) knowing his disease Mortall, would shun the cure: oh Maister Greenewit, Would you to such an Idoll bow. Not I sir. Heer's Maister Laxton, has he mind to a woman As thou hast. No not I sir. Sir I know it. There good parts are so rare, there bad so common, I will haue nought to do with any woman. Tis well done Maister Laxton. Oh thou cruell boy, Thou wouldst with lust an old mans life destroy, Because thou seest I'me halfe way in my graue, Thou shouelst dust vpon me: wod thou mightest haue Thy wish, most wicked, most vnnaturall. Why sir, tis thought, sir Guy Fitz-Allards daughter Shall wed your sonne Sebastian. Sir Dauy Dapper. I haue vpon my knees, wood this fond boy, To take that vertuous maiden. Harke you a word sir. You on your knees haue curst that vertuous maiden, And me for louing her, yet do you now Thus baffle me to my face: were not your knees In such intreates, giue me Fitz-Allards daughter. Ile giue thee rats-bane rather. Well then you know What dish I meane to feed vpon. Harke Gentlemen, He sweares to haue this cut-purse drab, to spite my gall. Maister Sebastian. I am deafe to you all. Ime so bewitcht, so bound to my desires, Teares, prayers, threats, nothing can quench out those fires That burne within me. Her bloud shall quench it then, Loose him not, oh diswade him Gentlemen. He shall be weand I warrant you. Before his eyes Lay downe his shame, my griefe, his miseries. No more, no more, away. I wash a Negro, Loosing both paines and cost: but take thy flight, Ile be most neere thee, when I'me least in sight. Wilde Bucke ile hunt thee breathlesse, thou shalt run on, But I will turne thee when I'me not thought vpon. Now sirra what are you, leaue your Apes trickes and speake. A letter from my Captaine to your Worship. Oh, oh, now I remember tis to preferre thee into my seruice. To be a shifter vnder your Worships nose of a clean trencher, when ther's a good bit vpon't. Troth honest fellow—humh—ha—let me see, This knaue shall be the axe to hew that downe At which I stumble, has a face that promiseth Much of a villaine, I will grind his wit, And if the edge proue fine make vse of it. Come hither sirra, canst thou be secret, ha. As two crafty Atturneys plotting the vndoing of their clyents. Didst neuer, as thou hast walkt about this towne Heare of a wench cal'd Moll, mad merry Moll. Moll cutpurse sir. The same, dost thou know her then, Aswell as I know twill raine vpon Simon and Iudes day next, I will sift all the tauerns ith citty, and drinke halfe pots with all the Watermen ath bankside, but if you will sir Ile find her out.