Philaster, or Love Lies a-Bleeding · chunk 25 of 40
Beaumont, Francis / Fletcher, John · published 1620 · first performed or written 1609 [May(?)] (Annals) tragicomedy · King's Men · Globe unassigned nearest T48 Addressing a lady: love, desire and inti · 485 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T48: lady, love, heart, fair, eyes, la, lord, tears, fie, face.
madam, the king would hunt, And calls for you with earnestness. I am in tune to hunt: Diana if thou canst Rage with a maid, as with a man, let me discover thee bathing, and turn me to a fearful hind, That I may die pursued by cruel hounds, And have my story written in my wounds. What, are the hounds before, and all the Woodmen? Our horses ready, and our bows bent? All sir. You are cloudy sir. Come we have forgotten your venial trespasses, let not that sit heavy upon your spirit, Here's none dares utter it. He looks like an old surfeited stallion after his leaping, Dull as a Dormouse: see how he sinks, the wench has shot him between wind and water, and I hope sprung a lake. He needs no teaching, he strikes sure enough, His greatest fault is, he hunts too much in the purlieus, Would he would leave off poaching. And for his horn, has left it at the lodge where he lay late: Oh he's a pernicious lime-hound, turn him upon the pursue of any Lady, and if he lose her, hang him up i'th' slip: when my fox byth' beauty grows proud, I'll borrow him. Is your boy turned away? You did command sir, and I obeyed you. 'tis well done, hark ye further. is't possible this fellow should repent, methinks that were not noble in him, And yet he looks like a mortified member, As if he had a sick man's salve in's mouth, If a worse man had done this fault now, Some physical justice or other, would presently Without the help of an Almanac, Have opened the obstructions of his liver, And let him blood with a dog-whip. See, see, how modestly yond Lady looks, As if she came from churching with her neighbours, Why what a devil can you see in her face, But that she's honest. Faith no great matter to speak of: a foolish twinkling with the eye, that spoils her coat, but he must be a cunning Herald that finds it. See how they muster on another, O there's a rank regent, where the devil carries the colours, and his damned drum major. Now the flesh and the world come behind with the Carriage. Sure this Lady has a good turn done against her will, before she was common talk, now none dares say Cantharides can stir her, her face looks like a warrant, willing and commanding all tongues, as they will answer it, to be tied up, and bolted, when this Lady means to let herself loose, as I live, she has got a goodly protection, and a gracious: and may use her body discreetly, for her health sake, once a week, except lent and dog-days. O if they were to be got for money, what a large sum would come out of the City, for these Licences.
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)
Madame, the king would hunt, And cals for you with earnestnesse. I am in tune to hunt: Diana if thou canst Rage with a maid, as with a man, let me discouer thee bathing, and turne me to a fearefull hind, That I may die pursu'd by cruell hounds, And haue my story written in my wounds. What, are the hounds before, and all the Woodmen? Our horses ready, and our bowes bent? All sir. You are clowdy sir. Come we haue forgotten your veniall trespasses, let not that sit heauy vpon your spirit, Heres none dares vtter it. He lookes like an olde surfeited stallion after his leaping, Dull as a Dormouse: see how he sinckes, the wench has shot him betweene wind and water, and I hope sprung a lake. He needes no teaching, he strikes sure enough, His greatest fault is, he hunts too much in the purlewes, Would he would leaue off poaching. And for his horne, has left it at the lodge where he lay late: Oh hee's a pernitious limhound, turne him vpon the pursue of any Lady, and if hee lose her, hang him vp i'th slip: when my foxe bith bewty growes prowd, I'le borrow him. Is your boy turnde away? You did command sir, and I obeyed you. Tis well done, harke ye furder. I'st possible this fellow should repent, Me thinkes that were not noble in him, And yet he lookes like a mortified member, As if he had a sicke mans salue in's mouth, If a worse man had done this fault now, Some physicall Iustice or other, would presently Without the helpe of an Almanacke, Haue opened the obstructions of his liuer, And let him bloud with a dog-whip. See, see, how modestly yon Lady lookes, As if she came from churching with her neighbours, Why what a diuell can you see in her face, But that shee's honest. Faith no great matter to speake of: a foolish twinckling with the eie, that spoyles her coat, but hee must be a cunning Herald that findes it. See how they muster on another, O thers a ranke regient, where the diuell carries the Culours, and his damn'd drum maior. Now the flesh and the world come behinde with the Carriage. Sure this Lady has a good turne done against her wil, before she was common talke, now none dares say Cantharides can stirre her, her face lookes like a warrant, willing and commanding all tongues, as they will answere it, to be tied vp, and boulted, when this Lady meanes to let her selfe loose, as I liue, shee has got a goodly protection, and a gratious: and may vse her body discretely, for her health sake, once a weeke, except lent and dog-dayes. O if they were to be got for money, what a large summe would come out of the Citie, for these Licences.