Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1593 [c.1593-1594] (Annals) comedy · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men (?) unassigned nearest T49 Wooing a mistress: suitors, go-betweens · 470 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T49: mistress, gentleman, love, lady, woman, pray, gentlewoman, hear, honest, way.
If it please me, (Madam?) what then? Why if it please you, take it for your labour; And so good-morrow Servant. Oh jest unseen: inscrutible: invisible, As a nose on a man's face, or a Weathercock on a steeple: My Master sues to her: and she hath taught her Suitor, He being her Pupil, to become her Tutor. Oh excellent device, was there ever heard a better? That my master being scribe, To himself should write the Letter? How now Sir? What are you reasoning with yourself? Nay: I was rhyming: 'tis you that have the reason. To do what? To be a Spokesman from Madam Silvia. To whom? To yourself: why, she woos you by a figure. What figure? By a Letter, I should say. Why she hath not writ to me? What need she, When she hath made you write to yourself? Why, do you not perceive the jest? No, believe me. No believing you indeed sir: But did you perceive her earnest? She gave me none, except an angry word. Why she hath given you a Letter. That's the Letter I writ to her friend. And that letter hath she delivered, & there an end. I would it were no worse. I'll warrant you, 'tis as well: For often have you writ to her: and she in modesty, Or else for want of idle time, could not again reply, Or fearing else some messenger, that might her mind discover Herself hath taught her Love himself, to write unto her lover. All this I speak in print, for in print I found it. Why muse you sir, 'tis dinner time. I have dined. I, but harken sir: though the Chameleon Love can feed on the air, I am one that am nourished by my victuals; and would fain have meat: oh be not like your Mistress, be moved, be moved. Have patience, gentle Iulia: I must where is no remedy. When possibly I can, I will return. If you turn not: you will return the sooner: Keep this remembrance for thy Julia's sake. Why then we'll make exchange; Here, take you this. And seal the bargain with a holy kiss. Here is my hand, for my true constancy: And when that hour ore-slips me in the day, Wherein I sigh not (Iulia) for thy sake, The next ensuing hour, some foul mischance Torment me for my Love's forgetfulness: My father stays my coming: answer not: The tide is now: nay, not thy tide of tears, That tide will stay me longer than I should, Iulia, farewell: what, gone without a word? I, so true love should do: it cannot speak, For truth hath better deeds, than words to grace it. Sir Protheus: you are stayed for. Go: I come, I come: Alas, this parting strikes poor Lovers dumb.
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)
If it pleaſe me, (Madam?) what then? Why if it pleaſe you, take it for your labour; And ſo good-morrow Seruant. Oh Ieſt vnſeene: inſcrutible: inuiſible, As a noſe on a mans face, or a Wethercocke on a ſteeple: My Maſter ſues to her: and ſhe hath taught her Sutor, He being her Pupill, to become her Tutor. Oh excellent deuiſe, was there euer heard a better? That my maſter being ſcribe, To himſelfe ſhould write the Letter? How now Sir? What are you reaſoning with your ſelfe? Nay: I was riming: 'tis you yt haue the reaſon. To doe what? To be a Spokeſ-man from Madam Siluia. To whom? To your ſelfe: why, ſhe woes you by a figure. What figure? By a Letter, I ſhould ſay. Why ſhe hath not writ to me? What need ſhe, When ſhee hath made you write to your ſelfe? Why, doe you not perceiue the ieſt? No, beleeue me. No beleeuing you indeed ſir: But did you perceiue her earneſt? She gaue me none, except an angry word. Why ſhe hath giuen you a Letter. That's the Letter I writ to her friend. And yt letter hath ſhe deliuer'd, & there an end. I would it were no worſe. Ile warrant you, 'tis as well: For often haue you writ to her: and ſhe in modeſty, Or elſe for want of idle time, could not againe reply, Or fearing els ſome meſſēger, yt might her mind diſcouer Her ſelf hath taught her Loue himſelf, to write vnto her louer. All this I ſpeak in print, for in print I found it. Why muſe you ſir, 'tis dinner time. I haue dyn'd. I, but hearken ſir: though the Cameleon Loue can feed on the ayre, I am one that am nouriſh'd by my victuals; and would faine haue meate: oh bee not like your Miſtreſſe, be moued, be moued. Haue patience, gentle Iulia: I muſt where is no remedy. When poſſibly I can, I will returne. If you turne not: you will return the ſooner: Keepe this remembrance for thy Iulia's ſake. Why then wee'll make exchange; Here, take you this. And ſeale the bargaine with a holy kiſſe. Here is my hand, for my true conſtancie: And when that howre ore-ſlips me in the day, Wherein I ſigh not (Iulia) for thy ſake, The next enſuing howre, ſome foule miſchance Torment me for my Loues forgetfulneſſe: My father ſtaies my comming: anſwere not: The tide is now: nay, not thy tide of teares, That tide will ſtay me longer then I ſhould, Iulia, farewell: what, gon without a word? I, ſo true loue ſhould doe: it cannot ſpeake, For truth hath better deeds, then words to grace it. Sir Protheus: you are ſtaid for. Goe: I come, I come: Alas, this parting ſtrikes poore Louers dumbe.