Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1592 [c.1590-1593] (Annals) comedy · Pembroke's Men (?) unassigned nearest T49 Wooing a mistress: suitors, go-betweens · 490 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T49: mistress, gentleman, love, lady, woman, pray, gentlewoman, hear, honest, way.
Quoth my Master, I know quoth he, no house, no wife, no mistress: so that my arrant due unto my tongue, I thank him, I bore home upon my shoulders: for in conclusion, he did beat me there. Go back again, thou slave, & fetch him home. Go back again, and be new beaten home? For Gods sake send some other messenger. Back slave, or I will break thy pate across. And he will bless that cross with other beating: Between you, I shall have a holy head. Hence prating peasant, fetch thy Master home. Am I so round with you, as you with me, That like a football you do spurn me thus: You spurn me hence, and he will spurn me hither, If I last in this service, you must case me in leather. Fie how impatience lowreth in your face. His company must do his minion's grace, Whilst I at home starve for a merry look: Hath homely age th' alluring beauty took From my poor check? then he hath wasted it. Are my discourses dull? Barren my wit, If voluble and sharp discourse be marred, Unkindness blunts it more than marble hard. Do their gay vestments his affections bait? That's not my fault, he's master of my state. What ruins are in me that can be found, By him not ruined? Then is he the ground Of my defeatures. My decayed fair, A sunny look of his, would soon repair. But, too unruly Deer, he breaks the pale, And feeds from home; poor I am but his stale. Selfe-harming jealousy; fie beat it hence. Unfeeling fools can with such wrongs dispense: I know his eye doth homage otherwhere, Or else, what lets it but he would be here? Sister, you know he promised me a chain, Would that alone, a love he would detain, So he would keep fair quarter with his bed: I see the jewel best enamaled Will lose his beauty: yet the gold bides still That others touch, and often touching will, Where gold and no man that hath a name, By falsehood and corruption doth it shame: Since that my beauty cannot please his eye, I'll weep (what's left away) and weeping die. How many fond fools serve mad jealousy? The gold I gave to Dromio is laid up Safe at the Centaur, and the heedful slave Is wandered forth in care to seek me out By computation and mine host's report. I could not speak with Dromio, since at first I sent him from the Mart? see here he comes. How now sir, is your merry humour altered? As you love strokes, so jest with me again: You know no Centaur? you received no gold? Your Mistress sent to have me home to dinner? My house was at the Phoenix? Wast thou mad, That thus so madly thou did didst answer me? What answer sir? when spoke I such a word?
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)
Quoth my Maſter, I know quoth he, no houſe, no wife, no miſtreſſe: ſo that my arrant due vnto my tongue, I thanke him, I bare home vpon my ſhoulders: for in concluſion, he did beat me there. Go back againe, thou ſlaue, & fetch him home. Goe backe againe, and be new beaten home▪ For Gods ſake ſend ſome other meſſenger. Backe ſlaue, or I will breake thy pate a-croſſe. And he will bleſſe yt croſſe with other beating▪ Betweene you, I ſhall haue a holy head. Hence prating peſant, fetch thy Maſter home. Am I ſo round with you, as you with me, That like a foot-ball you doe ſpurne me thus: You ſpurne me hence, and he will ſpurne me hither, If I laſt in this ſeruice, you muſt caſe me in leather. Fie how impatience lowreth in your face. His company muſt do his minions grace, Whil'ſt I at home ſtarue for a merrie looke: Hath homelie age th' alluring beauty tooke From my poore checke? then he hath waſted it. Are my diſcourſes dull? Barren my wit, If voluble and ſharpe diſcourſe be mar'd, Vnkindneſſe blunts it more then marble hard. Doe their gay veſtments his affections baite? That's not my fault, hee's maſter of my ſtate. What ruines are in me that can be found, By him not ruin'd? Then is he the ground Of my defeatures. My decayed faire, A ſunnie looke of his, would ſoone repaire. But, too vnruly Deere, he breakes the pale, And feedes from home; poore I am but his ſtale. Selfe-harming Iealouſie; fie beat it hence. Vnfeeling fools can with ſuch wrongs diſpence: I know his eye doth homage other-where, Or elſe, what lets it but he would be here? Siſter, you know he promis'd me a chaine, Would that alone, a loue he would detaine, So he would keepe faire quarter with his bed: I ſee the Iewell beſt enamaled Will looſe his beautie: yet the gold bides ſtill That others touch, and often touching will, Where gold and no man that hath a name, By falſhood and corruption doth it ſhame: Since that my beautie cannot pleaſe his eie, Ile weepe (what's left away) and weeping die. How manie fond fooles ſerue mad Ielouſie? The gold I gaue to Dromio is laid vp Safe at the Centaur, and the heedfull ſlaue Is wandred forth in care to ſeeke me out By computation and mine hoſts report. I could not ſpeake with Dromio, ſince at firſt I ſent him from the Mart? ſee here he comes. How now ſir, is your merrie humor alter'd? As you loue ſtroakes, ſo ieſt with me againe: You know no Centaur? you receiu'd no gold? Your Miſtreſſe ſent to haue me home to dinner? My houſe was at the Phoenix? Waſt thou mad, That thus ſo madlie thou did didſt anſwere me? What anſwer ſir? when ſpake I ſuch a word?