Jonson, Ben · published 1620 · first performed or written 1609 (Annals) comedy · Children of the Queen's Revels unassigned nearest T48 Addressing a lady: love, desire and inti · 492 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T48: lady, love, heart, fair, eyes, la, lord, tears, fie, face.
My Lady called for you, Mistress Trusty: you must decide a Controversy. O Trusty, which was it you said, your Father, or your Mother, that was cured with the sick-man's Salve? My Mother, madam, with the Salve. Then it was the Sick-woman's Salve. And my Father with the Groatsworth of wit. But there was other means used: we had a Preacher that would preach folk asleep still; and so they were prescribed to go to Church, by an old Woman that was their Physician, thrice a Week— To sleep? Yes forsooth: and every night they read themselves asleep on those Books. Good faith, it stands with great reason. I would I knew where to procure those Books. Oh. I can help you with one of 'em, Mistress Morose, the Groatsworth of wit. But I shall disfurnish you, Sir Amorous: can you spare it? O, yes, for a Week, or so; I'll read it myself to him. No, I must do that, Sir: that must be my office. Sure, he would do well enough, if he could sleep. No, I should do well enough, if you could sleep. Have I no friend that will make her drunk? or give her a little laudanum? or opium? Why, Sir, she talks ten times worse in her sleep. How! Do you not know that, Sir? never ceases all night. And snores like a porpoise. O, redeem me, Fate, redeem me, Fate. For how how many causes may a man be divorced, Nephew? I know not truly, Sir. Some Divine must resolve you in that, Sir, or Canon Lawyer. I will not rest, I will not think of any other hope or comfort till I know. Alas, poor man. You'll make him mad indeed, Ladies, if you pursue this. No, we'll let him breathe, now a quarter of an hour, or so. By my faith, a large Truce. Is that his keeper, that is gone with him? It is his Nephew, madam. Sir Dauphine, Eugenie. He looks like a very pitiful Knight— As can be. This Marriage, has put him out of all. He has not a penny in his Purse, madam— He is ready to cry all this day. A very Shark, he set me i'the nick tother night at Primero. How these Swabbers talk! ay, Otters Wine has swelled their humours above a Springtide. Good Morose, let's go in again. I like your couches exceeding well: we'll go lie, and talk there. I wait on you, madam. 'Slight, I will have 'em as silent as Signs, and their Posts too, ere I ha' done. Do you hear, lady-bride? I pray thee now, as thou art a noble Wench, continue this Discourse of Dauphine within: but praise him exceedingly. Magnify him with all the height of affection thou canst. (I have some purpose in't) and but beat off these two Rooks, Iack Daw, and his fellow, with any discontentment hither, and I'll honour thee for ever.
seed 43: T5 · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
My Lady call'd for you, Miſtris Truſty: you muſt decide a Controuerſie. O Truſty, which was it you ſaid, your Father, or your Mother, that was cur'd with the Sick-mans Salue? My Mother, Madame, with the Salue. Then it was the Sick-womans Salue. And my Father with the Groats-worth of wit. But there was other meanes vs'd: we had a Preacher that would preach folke aſleepe ſtill; and ſo they were preſcrib'd to goe to Church, by an old Woman that was their Phyſician, thriſe a Weeke— To ſleepe? Yes forſooth: and euery night they reade themſelues aſleepe on thoſe Bookes. Good faith, it ſtands with great reaſon. I would I knew where to procure thoſe Bookes. Oh. I can helpe you with one of 'hem, Miſtris Moroſe, the Groats-worth of wit. But I ſhall disfurniſh you, Sir Amorous: can you ſpare it? O, yes, for a Weeke, or ſo; I'll reade it my ſelfe to him. No, I muſt doe that, Sir: that muſt be my office. Sure, hee would doe well inough, if hee could ſleepe. No, I ſhould doe well inough, if you could ſleepe. Haue I no friend that will make her drunke? or giue her a little ladanum? or opium? Why, Sir, ſhee talkes tenne times worſe in her ſleepe. How! Doe you not know that, Sir? neuer ceaſes all night. And ſnores like a Porcpiſce. O, redeeme me, Fate, redeeme me, Fate. For how how many cauſes may a man be diuorc'd, Nephew? I know not truly, Sir. Some Diuine muſt reſolue you in that, Sir, or Canon Lawyer. I will not reſt, I will not thinke of any other hope or comfort till I know. Alas, poore man. You'll make him mad indeed, Ladies, if you purſue this. No, wee'll let him breathe, now a quarter of an houre, or ſo. By my faith, a large Truce. Is that his keeper, that is gone with him? It is his Nephew, Madame. Sir Dauphine, Eugenie. He lookes like a very pittifull Knight— As can bee. This Marriage, has put him out of all. He has not a penny in his Purſe, Madame— He is ready to cry all this day. A very Sharke, hee ſet me i'the nicke t'other night at Primero. How theſe Swabbers talke! I, Otters Wine has ſwell'd their humours aboue a Spring-tide. Good Moroſe, let's goe in againe. I like your couches exceeding well: wee'll goe lie, and talke there. I wait on you, Madame. 'Slight, I will haue 'hem as ſilent as Signes, and their Poſts too, e're I ha' done. Doe you heare, Ladie-Bride? I pray thee now, as thou art a noble Wench, continue this Diſcourſe of Dauphine within: but prayſe him exceedingly. Magnifie him with all the height of affection thou canſt. (I haue ſome purpoſe in't) and but beate off theſe two Rookes, Iack Daw, and his fellow, with any diſcontentment hether, and I'll honour thee for euer.