Beaumont, Francis / Fletcher, John · published 1619 · first performed or written 1610 [c.1610-1611] (Annals) tragedy · King's Men · Blackfriars unassigned nearest T49 Wooing a mistress: suitors, go-betweens · 467 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T49: mistress, gentleman, love, lady, woman, pray, gentlewoman, hear, honest, way.
Thou thinkst belike there is no modesty When we're alone. I by my troth, you hit my thoughts right. You prick me madam. 'tis against my will. Anon you must endure more and lie still, 'tis best to practise. Sure this wench is mad. No faith, this is a trick that I have had Since I was fourteen. 'tis time to leave it. Nay now i'll keep it till the trick leave me, A dozen wanton words put in your head, Will make you livelier in your husband's bed. Nay faith then take it. Take it madam, where, We all will take it I hope that are here. Nay then i'll give you over. So will I make The ablest man in Rhodes or his heart ache. Wilt lie in my place tonight. I'll hold your cards against any two I know. What wilt thou do. madam we'll do't and make ''em leave play too. Aspasia take her part. I will refuse it, She will pluck down aside, she does not use it. do I prithee. You will find the play Quickly, because your head lies well that way. I thank thee Dula, would thou couldst instill Some of thy mirth into Aspasia, Nothing but sad thoughts in her breast do dwell, methinks a mean betwixt you would do well. She is in love, hang me if I were so, But I could run my Country I love too, To do those things that people in love do. It were a timeless smile should prove my cheek, It were a fitter hour for me to laugh, When at the Altar the religious Priest, Were pacifying the offended powers, With sacrifice, than now, this should have been My right, and all your hands have been employed, In giving me a spotless offering To young Amintor's bed, as we are now, For you pardon Euadne, would my worth Were great as yours, or that the King or he Or both thought so, perhaps he found me worthless, But till he did so, in these ears of mine, These credulous ears, he powered the sweetest words That art or love could frame, if he were false Pardon it heaven, and if I did want Virtue, you safely may forgive that too, For I have lost none that I had from you. Nay leave this sad talk madam. Would I could, than I should leave the cause. Lo if you have not spoiled all Dula's mirth. Thou thinkst thy heart hard, but if thou be'st caught remember me; thou shalt perceive a fire shot suddenly unto thee. That's not so good, let'em shoot any thing but sire, and I fear'em not. Well wench thou must be taken. Lady's good night, I'll do the rest myself. Nay let your Lord do some.
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)
Thou thinkst belike there is no modesty When we'are alone. I by my troth, you hit my thoughts right. You prick me Madame. Tis against my will. Anon you must indure more and lie still, Tis best to practise. Sure this wench is mad. No faith, this is a trick that I haue had Since I was foureteene. Tis time to leaue it. Nay now ile keepe it till the trick leaue me, A dozen wanton words put in your head, Will make you liuelier in your husbands bed. Nay faith then take it. Take it Madame, where, We all will take it I hope that are here. Nay then ile giue you ore. So will I make The ablest man in Rhodes or his heart ake. Wilt lie in my place to night. Ile hold your cards against any two I know. What wilt thou doe. Madame weele doo't and make'm leaue play too. Aspatia take her part. I will refuse it, She will pluck downe aside, she does not vse it. Do I prethee. You will finde the play Quickly, because your head lies well that way. I thanke thee Dula, would thou coulst instill Some of thy mirth into Aspatia, Nothing but sad thoughts in her brest doe dwell, Me thinkes a meane betwixt you would doe well. She is in loue, hang me if I were so, But I could run my Countrey I loue too, To doe those things that people in loue doe. It were a timelesse smile should proue my cheeke, It were a fitter houre for me to laugh, When at the Alter the religious Priest, Were passifying the offended powers, With sacrifice, then now, this should haue beene My right, and all your hands haue bin imployd, In giuing me a spotlesse offering To young Amintors bed, as we are now, For you pardon Euadne, would my worth Were great as yours, or that the King or he Or both thought so, perhaps he found me worthlesse, But till he did so, in these eares of mine, These credulons eares, he powred the sweetest words That art or loue could frame, if he were false Pardon it heauen, and if I did want Vertue, you safely may forgiue that too, For I haue lost none that I had from you. Nay leaue this sad talke Madame. Would I could, then I should leaue the cause. Loe if you haue not spoild all Dulas mirth. Thou thinkst thy heart hard, but if thou beest caught remember me; thou shalt perceiue a fire shot suddenly vnto thee. Thats not so good, let'em shoot any thing but sire, and I feare'm not. Well wench thou must be taken. Ladies good night, Ile doe the rest my selfe. Nay let your Lord de some.