The Two Merry Milkmaids, or The Best Words Wear the Garland · chunk 17 of 54
Cumber, John · published 1620 · first performed or written 1619 [1619-1620] (Annals) comedy · Red Bull (Revels) Company (first) · before the Court unassigned nearest T16 Gallantry: ladies, lordships and complim · 488 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T16: lady, madam, gentleman, lordship, ladies, honour, mistress, sweet, court, servant.
All, and become in debt to pay that Man. What do you judge your Estate to be, Sir? Better then three hundred pound a year. Why that shall do it. Pardon me Sir, I am poor, And such an Accident as this perhaps, To make a Fortune, will not in all my Age Befall again: nor can you lose by it, For in her favours you shall be advanced. Without those wise Considerations, You instantly shall have it made to you, Not in words only, but in deeds, If you perform what you propose to me. Why you say well Sir, will you now to the Scriveners? Most joyfully, and with what speed you please. Lead Sir, I'll follow: Is it not strange to see, That a man should, as hath been often shown, Cure others griefs, yet cannot help his own. Now Sir, you are so died i'the Grape, & so debauched With Tavern Quarrels, that here your carriage Amongst the inferior sort will prove ridiculous: For we shall have you down i'the Wine-cellar, Or at the Beer amongst the Guard carousing, And after, fall to Cuffs; your Band and Doublet Torn from your Neck & Back, and your brave Breeches Stained with the variation of each soil. Nay good Sir do not aggravate a Fault: I know I have been often i'the dirt, (And so has many a better man than I) Before I was the Duke's Brother; but now I will give no man place at Wall or Kennel. My young Lord is in my mind to a thread for that. I know thou hast matter enough in thee, And parts sufficient to make a Courtier; But this same Drink, and Country Liberty, Has spoiled thee irrecoverably. Why Sir, what would you ha' me do? you shall find I will be capable. Why you must bend yourself unto the Ladies. Bend to the Ladies: Alas poor old man, he talks— I mean, apply yourself, converse with 'em, And still be tendering your service to 'em; They will look for't: Look you, here come Presidents; There's a young Lord now, a Knight follows him, Mark but how they endeavour in the business. udsfoot, I think my Father thinks I am an Ass: Cannot I lead a Lady by the Arm, Hold off my Hat, and dance my Cinque a pace; And after a long story of my silence, Ask how she does? I will satisfy him, He sha'not find me to degenerate— By your leave Lady. What's he trow? he has reasonable handsome Clothes, but they become him not. The dumb Lord's frighted, his hair stands an end. My Noble Lord; the Duchess Brother. Your pardon my good Lord. What Masculine baboon's this— Lady, I honour you. O my good Lord, there are better Faces i'the Court for you to honour. By that all-killing Eye, that murdering Lip— Fie, fie, my Lord, you make me blush.
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)
All, and become in debt to pay that Man. What doe you iudge your Estate to be, Sir? Better then three hundred pound a yeere. Why that shal do it. Pardon me Sir, I am poore, And such an Accident as this perhaps, To make a Fortune, will not in all my Age Befall againe: nor can you lose by it, For in her fauours you shall be aduanc'd. Without those wise Considerations, You instantly shall haue it made to you, Not in words onely, but in deeds, If you performe what you propose to me. Why you say wel Sir, wil you now to the Scriueners? Most ioyfully, and with what speed you please. Lead Sir, Ile follow: Is it not strange to see, That a man shud, as hath bin often showne, Cure others griefes, yet cannot helpe his owne. Now Sir, you are so dy'd i'the Grape, & so deboisht With Tauerne Quarrels, that here your carriage Amongst the inferior sort will proue ridiculous: For we shall haue you downe i'the Wine-cellar, Or at the Beere amongst the Guard carowsing, And after, fall to Cuffes; your Band and Doublet Torne from your Neck & Back, and your braue Breeches Stain'd with the variation of each soyle. Nay good Sir donnot aggrauate a Fault: I know I haue bin often i'the durt, (And so ha's many a better man then I) Before I was the Dukes Brother; but now I will giue no man place at Wall or Kennell. My yong Lord is in my mind to a thred for that. I know thou hast matter ynough in thee, And parts sufficient to make a Courtier; But this same Drinke, and Countrey Libertie, Ha's spoyl'd thee irrecouerably. Why Sir, what wud you ha' me do? you shall find I will be capable. Why you must bend your selfe vnto the Ladies. Bend to the Ladies: Alas poore old man, he talks— I meane, apply your selfe, conuerse with 'hem, And still be tendring your seruice to 'hem; They will looke for't: Looke you, here come Presidents; There's a young Lord now, a Knight followes him, Marke but how they endeuor in the businesse. Vdsfoot, I thinke my Father thinkes I am an Asse: Cannot I lead a Lady by the Arme, Hold off my Hat, and dance my Cinque a pace; And after a long story of my silence, Aske how she does? I will satisfie him, He shannot find me to degenerate— By your leaue Lady. What's he tro? he ha's reasonable handsome Clothes, but they become him not. The dumbe Lord's frighted, his haire stands an end. My Noble Lord; the Duchesse Brother. Your pardon my good Lord. What Masculine Baboone's this—Lady, I honor you. O my good Lord, there are better Faces i'the Court for you to honor. By that all-killing Eye, that murdring Lip— Fie, fie, my Lord, you make me blush.