A Christian Turned Turk (The Two Famous Pirates) · chunk 27 of 38
Daborne, Robert · published 1612 · first performed or written 1610 [1609-1612] (Annals) tragedy · Unknown unassigned nearest T49 Wooing a mistress: suitors, go-betweens · 484 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T49: mistress, gentleman, love, lady, woman, pray, gentlewoman, hear, honest, way.
Yet see, midst all my miseries I have a friend, My constant loyal Voada, could what we enjoy Make a man happy, I am not miserable. Thou com'st to comfort me, I know thou dost. This fellow raves sure: do you know to whom you speak? Put not a further trial on me, thou best of women: Know if this arm were bared all other means From hearts of Christians, it should dig thee food. We know you are a bloody murderer, and are repaid By our just Prophet, that hates false Runagates. How couldst thou malice man so much, heaven, As to create a woman? Thou hast forgot me sure: oh look on him That hath denied his faith, sold all his hopes To purchase thee his bride. To match with beggary: know I contemn thee As a most abject slave, and hate thee more Than all thy wealth could make me love before. What mean you sir? could you expect a good, A happiness from hell? she is a whore. Thou liest: this arm shall make it good, My soul for her I lost, and now my blood. Your passion doth transport you, here comes her pander, One that knows all her secrets: examine him, If she stand clear, let my life answer it. I'll put you to the Test. I have had a hot night of this, nothing but fire in my mouth two hours together: marry the old Iew my master I hear hath stumbled on a cooler. I thought this Captain would be coming so long on upon the breach he would break his neck at the last. This venery is a tempting dish, some ne'er lin licking at it till they burn their lips. Well, I must go comfort up old Benwash, he's heavy upon his wives lightness. You Iew, a word with you? You Turk, I have nothing to say to you: Ha, ha, ha, poor fellow, how he looks since Mahomet had the handling of him? he hath had a sore night at Whose that knocks at the backdoor? Cry you mercy, I thought you were an Italian Captain. Zounds, leave your circumlocutions, I'll send your head to your heels else. You parcel haud, all usher, answer directly who 'tis bears a way the prize in your Mistress's race, or I'll spoil your footing, cut you off by the hams. Alas sir! Speak, who are her suitors? Voadi's suitors? oh sir, a barber sir. I'll make you have need of a Surgeon ere I have done with you. How do you know he is a Barber? He smells strong of Rose-water, and he hath never money in his purse but on Saturday-nights. What other suitor, slave? another sweet youth too, I take it a Comfit-maker; and it seems hath rotten teeth, for he dares not come in sight so long as the Barber's in the way.
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: T7 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Yet see, midst all my miseries I haue a friend, My constant loyall Voada, could what we enioy Make a man happy, I am not miserable. Thou com'st to comfott me, I know thou doest. This fellow raues sure: do you know to whō you speake? Put not a further triall on mee, thou best of women: Know if this arme were bar'd all other meanes From hearts of Christians, it should digge thee food. We know you are a bloudy murderer, and are repaid By our iust Prophet, that hates false Runnagates. How couldst thou mallice man so much, heaven, As to create a woman? Thou hast forgot me sure: oh looke on him That hath deny'd his faith, sold all his hopes To purchase thee his bride. To match with beggery: know I contemne thee As a most abiect slaue, and hate thee more Then all thy wealth could make me loue before. What meane you sir? could you expect a good, A happinesse from hell? she is a whoore. Thou liest: this arme shall make it good, My soule for her I lost, and now my blood. Your passiō doth transport you, here comes her pander, One that knowes all her secrets: examine him, If she stand cleare, let my life answere it. Il'e put you to the Test. I haue had a hot night of this, nothing but fire in my mouth two houres together: mary the old Iew my maister I heare hath stumbled on a cooler. I thought this Captaine would bee comming so long on vpon the breach hee would breake his necke at the last. This venery is a tempting dish, some ner'e lin licking at it till they burne their lips. Well, I must go comfort vp old Benwash, hee's heauy vpon his wiues lightnesse. You Iew, a word with you? You Turke, I haue nothing to say to you: Ha, ha, ha, poore fellow, how hee lookes since Mahomet had the handling of him? hee hath had a sore night at Whose that knockes at the backe-doore? Cry you mercy, I thought you were an Italian Captaine. Zounds, leaue your circumlocutions, Il'e send your head to your heeles else. You parcell haud, all vsher, answere directly who 'tis beares a way the prize in your Mistresses race, or Il'e spoyle your footing, cut you off by the hammes. Alas sir! Speake, who are her uters? Voadi's uters? oh sir, a Barbar sir. Il'e make you haue need of a Surgian er'e I haue done with you. How do you know hee is a Barber? He smels strong of Rose-water, and he hath never mony in his purse but on Saturday-nights. What other suiter, slaue? An other sweet youth too, I take it a Comfet-maker; and it seemes hath rotten teeth, for he dares not come in sight so long as the Barber's in the way.