Chapman, George · published 1612 · first performed or written 1604 [1604-1605] (Annals) comedy · Children of the Queen's Revels · Blackfriars unassigned nearest T7 The Trojan war: conflict and its afterma · 484 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T7: hector, troy, achilles, greeks, aeneas, priam, ulysses, troilus, trojan, trojans.
Well, forget not your wager, a stately chariot with four brave Horses of the Thracian breed, with all appurtenances. I'll prepare the like for you, if you prove Victor; but well remembered, where will you lurk the whiles? mewed up close, some short days journey hence, Lycus shall know the place, write still how all things pass, brother adieu; all joy attend you. Will you not stay our nuptial now so near. I should be like a man that hears a tale And heeds it not; one absent from himself, my wife shall attend the Countess, and my Son. Whom you shall here at your return call me father, adieu: Ioue be your speed. My Nuptials done, your Funerals succeed. A Hall, a hall: who's without there? Come on, you're proper Grooms, are ye not? 'slight I think you're all Bridegrooms, ye take your pleasures so. A company of dormice. Their Honours are upon coming, and the room not ready. Rushes and seats instantly. Now, alas fellow Argus, how thou art cumbered with an office? Perfume sirrah, the room's dampish. Nay you may leave that office to the Ladies, they'll perfume it sufficiently. Cry mercy Sir, here's a whole Chorus of Syluans at hand, corneting, & tripping ath' toe, as the ground they trod on were too hot for their feet. The device is rare; and there's your young Nephew too, he hangs in the clouds Deified with Hymen's shape. Is he perfect in's part? has not his tongue learned of the Syluans to trip ath' Toe? Sir, believe it, he does it preciously for accent and action, as if he felt the part he played: he ravishes all the young Wenches in the Palace: Pray Venus my young Lady Laodice have not some little prick of Cupid in her, she's so diligent at's rehearsals. No force, so my next vows be heard, that if Cupid have pricked her, Hymen my cure her. You mean your Nephew Sir that presents Hymen. Why so, I can speak nothing but thou art with in me: fie of this wit of thine, 'twill be thy destruction. But howsoever you please to understand, Hymen send the boy no worse fortune: And where's my Lady's honour? At hand Sir, with your unparagoned sister, please you take your chair of Honour Sir? Most serviceable Argus, the God's reward they service; for I will not. COme sister, now we must exchange that name For stranger Titles, let's dispose ourselves To entertain these sylvan Revellers. That come to grace our loved Nuptials, I fear me we must all turn Nymphs tonight, To side those sprightly wood-Gods in their dances; Can you do't nimbly sister? slight what ail you, are you not well? Yes Madam. But your looks, methinks, are cloudy; suiting all the Sunshine of this clear honour to your husband's house. Is there ought here that sorts not with your liking?
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)
Well, forget not your wager, a stately chariot with foure braue Horses of the Thracian breede, with all appurtenances. Ile prepare the like for you, if you proue Victor; but well remembred, where will you lurke the whiles? Mewd vp close, some short daies iourney hence, Lycus shall know the place, write still how all things passe, brother adiew; all ioy attend you. Will you not stay our nuptiall now so neare. I should be like a man that heares a tale And heedes it not; one absent from himselfe, my wife shall attend the Countesse, and my Sonne. Whom you shal here at your returne call me father, adiew: Ioue be your speede. My Nuptialls done, your Funeralls succeed. A Hall, a hall: who's without there? Come on, y'are proper Groomes, are yee not? Slight I thinke y'are all Bridegroomes, yee take your pleasures so. A companie of dormice. Their Honours are vpon comming, and the roome not readie. Rushes and seates instantly. Now, alas fellow Argus, how thou art comberd with an office? Perfume sirrha, the roome's dampish. Nay you may leaue that office to the Ladies, theyle perfume it sufficiently. Cry mercie Sir, here's a whole Chorus of Syluans at hand, cornetting, & tripping ath' toe, as the ground they troad on were too hot for their feete. The deuice is rare; and there's your yong Nephew too, he hangs in the clouds Deified with Hymens shape. Is he perfect in's part? has not his tongue learn'd of the Syluans to trip ath' Toe? Sir, beleeue it, he does it pretiously for accent and action, as if hee felt the part he plaid: hee rauishes all the yong Wenches in the Palace: Pray Venus my yong Ladie Laodice haue not some little prick of Cupid in her, shee's so diligent at's rehearsalls. No force, so my next vowes be heard, that if Cupid haue prickt her, Hymen my cure her. You meane your Nephew Sir that presents Hymen. Why so, I can speake nothing but thou art with in me: fie of this wit of thine, 'twill be thy destruction. But howsoeuer you please to vnderstand, Hymen send the boy no worse fortune: And where's my Ladies honour? At hand Sir, with your vnparagond sister, please you take your chaire of Honour Sir? Most seruiceable Argus, the Gods reward they seruice; for I will not. COme sister, now we must exchange that name For stranger Titles, let's dispose our selues To entertaine these Syluane Reuellers. That come to grace our loued Nuptialls, I feare me we must all turne Nymphs to night, To side those sprightly wood-Gods in their dances; Can you doo't nimbly sister? slight what aile you, are you not well? Yes Madam. But your lookes, mee thinkes, are cloudie; suiting all the Sunne-shine of this cleare honour to your husbands house. Is there ought here that sorts not with your liking?