Tomkis, Thomas · published 1615 · first performed or written 1615 [Mar 9] (Annals) comedy · before the Court unassigned nearest T4 Love-longing and the lover's complaint · 487 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T4: love, heart, sweet, loves, fair, phillis, eyes, beauty, amyntas, lovers.
Let all the Stars Guide you with most propitious influence. here's a strange man indeed, of skill profound: How right he knew my business, 'fore he saw me, And how thou scoff'dst him when we talked in private. 'tis a brave instrument his Otacousticon. In earnest sir I took him for a Cheater; As many, under name of cunning men With promise of Astrology, much abuse The gaping vulgar, wronging that sacred skill, That in the Stars reads all our actions. Is there no arches o'er our heads, look Cricca. None but the Arch of heaven, that cannot fall. Is not that made of Marble? I have read A stone dropped from the Moon: And much I fear The fit should take her now, and void another. Fear nothing sir, this charmed Mercurial cap Shields from the fall of Mountains: 'tis not a stone Can check his Art, walk boldly. I do, let's in. HE that saith I am not in love, he lies De cap à poe; For I am idle, choicely neat in my clothes, valiant, and extreme witty: My meditations are loaded with metaphors, and my songs sonnets: Not a one shakes his tail, but I sigh out a passion: thus do I to my Mistress; but alas I kiss the dog, and she kicks me. I never see a young wanton Filly, but, say I, there goes Armellina; nor a lusty strong Ass, but I remember myself, and sit down to consider what a goodly race of Mules would inherit, if she were willing: only I want utterance, and that's a main mark of love too. Trincalo. Trincalo. O 'tis Armellina: now if she have the wit to begin, as I mean she should, then will I confound her with compliments drawn from the Plays I see at the Fortune, and Red Bull, where I learn all the words I speak and understand not. Trincalo, what price bear's wheat, and Saffron, that your band's so stiff and yellow? not a word? why Trincalo! what business in Town? how does all at Totnam? grown mute? What do you bring from the Country? There 'tis. Now are my flood-gates drawn, and I'll surround her. What have I brought sweet bit of beauty? a hundredth thousand salutations o'th' elder house to your most illustrious Honour and Worship. To me these Titles? is your basket full of nothing else? Full of the fruits of love, most resplendent Lady; a present to your worthiness from your worship's poor vassal Trincalo. My life on't, he scraped these compliments from his Cart, the last Load he carried for the Progress. What ha' you read that make you grow so eloquent? Sweet madam, I read nothing but the lines of your ladyships countenance, and desire only to kiss the skirts of your garment, if you vouchsafe me not the happiness of your white hands. Come, give's your basket and take it.
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)
Let all the Starres Guide you with most propitious influence. HEere's a strange man indeed, of skill profound: How right hee knew my businesse, 'fore hee saw mee, And how thou skoft's him when we talk't in priuate. Tis a braue instrument his Otacousticon. In earnest sir I tooke him for a Cheater; As many, vnder name of cunning men With promise of Astrology, much abuse The gaping vulgar, wronging that sacred skill, That in the Starres reades all our actions. Is there no arches o're our heads, looke Cricca. None but the Arch of heauen, that cannot fall. Is not that made of Marble? I haue read A stone drop't from the Moone: And much I feare The fit should take her now, and void an other. Feare nothing sir, this charm'd Mercuriall cap Shields from the fall of Mountaines: 'tis not a stone Can check his Art, walke boldly. I do, let's in. HEE that saith I am not in loue, hee lies De cap à pe; For I am idle, choicely neate in my cloathes, valiant, and extreme witty: My meditations are loded with metaphors, and my songs sonnets: Not a one shakes his taile, but I sigh out a passion: thus do I to my Mistresse; but alas I kisse the dogge, and shee kicks mee. I neuer see a yong wanton Filly, but, say I, there goe's Armellina; nor a lusty strong Asse, but I remember my selfe, and sit downe to consider what a goodly race of Mules would inherit, if she were willing: onely I want vtterance, and that's a maine marke of loue too. Trincalo. Trincalo. O 'tis Armellina: now if she the wit to beginne, as I meane shee should, then will I confound her with complements drawne from the Plaies I see at the Fortune, and Red Bull, where I learne all the words I speake and vnderstand not. Trincalo, what price beare's wheate, and Saffron, that your band's so stiffe and yellow? not a word? why Trincalo! what businesse in Towne? how do's all at Totnam? growne mute? What do you bring from the Country? There 'tis. Now are my floud-gates drawne, and I'le surround her. What haue I brought sweete bit of beauty? a hundreth thousand salutations o'th' elder house to your most illustrious Honour and Worship. To me these Titles? is your basket full of nothing else? Full of the fruites of loue, most resplendent Lady; a present to your worthines from your worship's poore vassaile Trincalo. My life on't, hee scrap't these complements from his Cart, the last Load hee carried for the Progresse. What ha you read that make you grow so eloquent? Sweete Madame, I read nothing but the lines of your Ladiships countenance, and desire onely to kisse the skirts of your garment, if you vouchsafe mee not the happinesse of your white hands. Come, giue's your basket and take it.