Greene's Tu Quoque, or The City Gallant · chunk 29 of 47
Cooke, John · published 1614 · first performed or written 1611 (Annals) comedy · Queen Anne's Men unassigned nearest T4 Love-longing and the lover's complaint · 486 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T4: love, heart, sweet, loves, fair, phillis, eyes, beauty, amyntas, lovers.
By Dis, and so we do. Come, come, will you Dis before: thou art one of them, that I warrant thee wilt be hanged, before thou wilt repent. Well, this Love is a troublesome thing, Iupiter bless me out of his fingers: there's no estate can rest for him: He runs through all Countries, will travel through the I'll of Man in a minute; but never is quiet till he come into Middlesex, and there keeps his Christmas: 'tis his habitation, his mansion, from whence, he'll never out, till he be fired. Well, do not tyrannize too much, lest one day he make you know his Deity, by sending a shaft out of a sparkling eye, shall strike so deep into your heart, that it shall make you fetch your breath short again. And make me cry, O eyes no eyes, but two celestial Stars! A pox on't, I'd as lief hear a fellow sing through the nose. How now Wench? Keep your station; you stand as well for the encounter as may be: she is coming on; but as melancholy, as a Bass-violin Consort. Which makes thee as Sprightly as the Treble. Now dost thou play thy prize: here's the honourable Sciense one against another: Do you hear Lover, the thing is done you wot off; you shall have your Wench alone without any disturbance: now if you can do any good, why so, the Silver Game be yours, we'll stand by and give aim, and hallow if you hit the Clout. 'tis all the assistance I request of you, Bring me but opportunately to her presence, And I desire no more: and If I cannot win her, Let me lose her. Well sir, let me tell you, perhaps you undertake A harder task than yet you do imagine. A task, what to win a Woman, & have opportunity? I would that were a task i'faith, for any man that wears his wits about him: give me but half an hours Conference with the coldest creature of them all, And if I bring her not into a fools Paradise, I'll pull out my tongue, & hang it at her door for a drawlatch. Udsfoot, I'd near stand thrumming of Caps for the matter, I'll quickly make trial of her if she love: To have her Beauty praised, I'll praise it: if her Wit, I'll commend it: if her good parts, I'll exalt them. No course shall scape me; for to whatsoever I saw her inclined too, to that would I fit her. But you must not do thus to her, for she's a subtle flouting rogue, that will laugh you out of countenance, if you solicit her seriously: No, talk me to her wanton, slightly & carelessly, and perhaps so you may prevail as much with her, as wind does with a Sail, carry her whither thou wilt, Bully. Well sir, I'll follow your instruction.
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)
By Dis, and so wee doe. Come, come, will you Dis before: thou art one of them, that I warrant thee wilt be hangd, before thou wilt repent. Well, this Loue is a troublesome thing, Iupiter blesse mee out of his fingers: ther's no estate can rest for him: Hee runnes through all Countries, will trauell through the Ile of Man in a minut; but neuer is quiet till hee come into Middle-sex, and there keepes his Christmas: Tis his habitation, his mantion, from whence, Heele neuer out, till hee be fierd. Well, do not tyranize too much, least one day he make you know his Deitie, by sending a shaft out of a sparkling eye, shall strike so deepe into your heart, that it shall make you fetch your breath short againe. And make mee cry, O eyes no eyes, but two celestiall Starres! A pox ont, Ide as leiue heare a fellow sing throngh the nose. How now Wench Keepe your station; you stand as well for the incounter as may be: shee is comming on; but as melancholy, as a Base-vyollin Consort. Which makes thee as Sprightly as the Trebble. Now dost thou play thy prize: heer's the honorable Sciense one against another: Doe you heare Louer, the thing is done you wot off; you shall haue your Wench alone without any disturbance: now if you can doe any good, why so, the Siluer Game be yours, weele stand by and giue ayme, and hallow if you hit the Clout. Tis all the assistance I request of you, Bring mee but opportunatly to her presence, And I desire no more: and If I cannot win her, Let mee loose her. Well sir, let me tell you, perhaps you vndertake A harder taske then yet you doe imagine. A taske, what to win a Woman, & haue opportunitie? I would that were a taske ifayth, for any man that weares his wittes about him: giue me but halfe an houres Conference with the coldest creature of them all, And if I bring her not into a fooles Paradice, Ile pul out my tongue, & hang it at her doore for a draw-latch. Vdsoot, I'de nere stand thrumming of Caps for the matter, Ile quickly make tryall of her if shee loue: To haue her Beautie prays'd, Ile prayse it: if her Witte, Ile commende it: if her good parts, Ile exalt them. No course shall scape me; for to what soeuer I saw her inclind too, to that would I fit her. But you must not doe thus to her, for shee's a subtile flouting rogue, that will laugh you out of countenance, if you solicit her ceriously: No, talke me to her wantonly, flightly & carelesly, and perhaps so you may preuaile as much with her, as wind does with a Sayle, carry her whither thou wilt, Bully. Well sir, Ile follow your instruction.