Shakespeare, William · published 1622 · first performed or written 1604 [c.1603-1604] (Annals) tragedy · King's Men · Blackfriars unassigned nearest T16 Gallantry: ladies, lordships and complim · 502 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T16: lady, madam, gentleman, lordship, ladies, honour, mistress, sweet, court, servant.
They give their greeting to the Citadel, This likewise is a friend. So speaks this voice: Good Ancient, you are welcome, welcome Mistress, Let it not gall your patience, good Iago, That I extend my manners, 'tis my breeding, That gives me this bold show of courtesy. For would she give you so much of her lips, As of her tongue, she has bestowed on me, You'd have enough. Alas! she has no speech. I know too much. I find it, I; for when I ha' list to sleep, Marry, before your Ladyship I grant, She puts her tongue a little in her heart, And chides with thinking. You ha' little cause to say so. Come on, Come on, you are Pictures out adores: Bells in your Parlours: Wild-cats in your Kitchens: Saints in your injuries: Devils being offended: Players in your housewifery; and housewives in your beds. O fie upon thee slanderer. Nay, it is true, or else I am a Turk, You rise to play, and go to bed to work. You shall not write my praise. No, let me not. What wouldst thou write of me, If thou shouldst praise me? O gentle Lady, do not put me to't, For I am nothing, if not Critical. Come on, assay— there's one gone to the Harbour? I Madam. I am not merry, but I do beguile The thing I am, by seeming otherwise: Come, how wouldst thou praise me? I am about it, but indeed my invention Comes from my pate, as birdlime does from freeze, It plucks out brain and all: but my Muse labours, And thus she is delivered: If she be fair and wise, fairness and wit; The one's for use, the other using it. Well praised: how if she be black and witty? If she be black, and thereto have a wit, She finde a white, that shall her blacknesse hit. Worse and worse. How if fair and foolish? She never yet was foolish, that was fair, For even her folly helped her, to a hair. These are old paradoxes, to make fools laugh i'the Alehouse, What miserable praise hast thou for her, That's foul and foolish? There's none so foul, and foolish thereunto, But does foul pranks, which fair and wise ones do. O heavy ignorance, that praises the worst best: but what praise couldst thou bestow on a deserving woman indeed? one, that in the authority of her merits, did justly put on the vouch of very malice itself? She that was ever fair, and never proud, Had tongue at will, and yet was never loud, Never lacked gold, and yet went never gay, Fled from her wish, and yet said, now I may: She that being angered, her revenge being nigh, Bad her wrong stay, and her displeasure fly; She that in wisdom, never was so frail, To change the Codshead for the Salmon's tail. She that could think, and ne'er disclose her mind, She was a wight, if ever such wight were.
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)
They giue their greeting to the Cittadell, This likewise is a friend. So speakes this voyce: Good Ancient, you are welcome, welcome Mistresse, Let it not gall your patience, good Iago, That I extend my manners, tis my breeding, That giues me this bold shew of courtesie. For would she giue you so much of her lips, As of her tongue, she has bestowed on me, You'd haue enough. Alas! shee has no speech. I know too much. I finde it, I; for when I ha list to sleepe, Mary, before your Ladiship I grant, She puts her tongue a little in her heart, And chides with thinking. You ha little cause to say so. Come on, Come on, you are Pictures out adores: Bells in your Parlors: Wildcats in your Kitchins: Saints in your iniuries: Diuells being offended: Players in your houswifery; and houswiues in your beds. O fie vpon thee slanderer. Nay, it is true, or else I am a Turke, You rise to play, and goe to bed to worke. You shall not write my praise. No, let me not. What wouldst thou write of me, If thou shouldst praise me? O gentle Lady, doe not put me to't, For I am nothing▪ if not Criticall. Come on, assay—there's one gone to the Harbor? I Madam. I am not merry, but I doe beguile The thing I am, by seeming otherwise: Come, how wouldst thou praise me? I am about it, but indeed my inuention Comes from my pate, as birdlime does from freeze, It plucks out braine and all: but my Muse labors, And thus she is deliuer'd: If she be faire and wise, fairenesse and wit; The one's for vse, the other vsing it. Well praisde: how if she be blacke and witty? If she be blacke, and thereto haue a wit, She finde a white, that shall her blacknesse hit. Worse and worse. How if faire and foolish? She neuer yet was foolish, that was faire, For euen her folly helpt her, to a haire. These are old paradoxes, to make fooles laugh i'the Alehouse, What miserable praise hast thou for her, That's foule and foolish? There's none so foule, and foolish thereunto, But does foule prankes, which faire and wise ones doe. O heauy ignorance, that praises the worst best: but what praise couldst thou bestow on a deseruing woman indeed? one, that in the authority of her merrits, did iustly put on the vouch of very malice it selfe? She that was seuer faire, and neuer proud, Had tongue at will, and yet was neuer lowd, Neuer lackt gold, and yet went neuer gay, Fled from her wish, and yet said, now I may: She that being angred, her reuenge being nigh, Bad her wrong stay, and her displeasure flye; She that in wisedome, neuer was so fraile, To change the Codshead for the Salmons taile. She that could thinke, and ne're disclose her minde, She was a wight, if euer such wight were.