Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1601 [1601-1602] (Annals) comedy · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men unassigned nearest T26 Devils, hell and fiends · 492 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T26: devil, hell, devils, sure, soul, fiend, sr, wife, lord, men.
Truly Madam, he holds Belzebub at the staff's end as well as a man in his case may do: has here writ a letter to you, I should have given't you to day morning. But as a madmans' Epistles are no Gospels, so it skills not much when they are delivered. Open't, and read it. Look then to be well edified, when the Fool delivers the Madman. By the Lord Madam. How now, art thou mad? No Madam, I do but read madness: and your Ladyship will have it as it ought to be, you must allow Vox. Prithee read i' thy right wits. So I do Madonna: but to read his right wits, is to read thus: therefore, perpend my Princess, and give ear. Read it you, sirrah. Reads. By the Lord Madam, you wrong me, and the world shall know it: Though you have put me into darkness, and given your drunken Cousin rule over me, yet have I the benefit of my senses as well as your Ladyship. I have your own letter, that induced me to the semblance I put on; with the which I doubt not, but to do myself much right, or you much shame: think of me as you please. I leave my duty a little unthought of, and speak out of my injury. Did he write this? I Madame. This savours not much of distraction. See him delivered Fabian, bring him hither: My Lord, so please you, these things further thought on, To think me as well a sister, as a wife, One day shall crown th' alliance on't, so please you, here at my house, and at my proper cost. Madam, I am most apt t' embrace your offer: Your Master quits you; and for your service done him, So much against the mettle of your sex, So far beneath your soft and tender breeding, And since you called me Master, for so long: here is my hand, you shall from this time be your Master's Mistress. A sister, you are she. Is this the Madman? I my Lord, this same: How now Maluolio? Madam, you have done me wrong, Notorious wrong. Have I Maluolio? No. Lady you have, pray you peruse that Letter. You must not now deny it is your hand, Writ from it if you can, in hand, or phrase, Or say, 'tis not your seal, not your invention: You can say none of this. Well, grant it then, And tell me in the modesty of honour, Why you have given me such clear lights of favour, Bade me come smiling, and cross-gartered to you, To put on yellow stockings, and to frown Upon sir Toby, and the lighter people: And acting this in an obedient hope, Why have you suffered me to be imprisoned, Kept in a dark house, visited by the Priest, And made the most notorious gecke and gull, That ere invention played on? Tell me why?
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)
Truely Madam, he holds Belzebub at the ſtaues end as well as a man in his caſe may do: has heere writ a letter to you, I ſhould haue giuen't you to day morning. But as a madmans Epiſtles are no Goſpels, ſo it skilles not much when they are deliuer'd. Open't, and read it. Looke then to be well edified, when the Foole deliuers the Madman. By the Lord Madam. How now, art thou mad? No Madam, I do but reade madneſſe: and your Ladyſhip will haue it as it ought to bee, you muſt allow Vox. Prethee reade i' thy right wits. So I do Madona: but to reade his right wits, is to reade thus: therefore, perpend my Princeſſe, and giue eare. Read it you, ſirrah. Reads. By the Lord Madam, you wrong me, and the world ſhall know it: Though you haue put mee into darkeneſſe, and giuen your drunken Coſine rule ouer me, yet haue I the benefit of my ſenſes as well as your Ladieſhip. I haue your owne letter, that induced mee to the ſemblance I put on; with the which I doubt not, but to do my ſelfe much right, or you much ſhame: thinke of me as you pleaſe. I leaue my duty a little vnthought of, and ſpeake out of my iniury. Did he write this? I Madame. This ſauours not much of diſtraction. See him deliuer'd Fabian, bring him hither: My Lord, ſo pleaſe you, theſe things further thought on, To thinke me as well a ſiſter, as a wife, One day ſhall crowne th' alliance on't, ſo pleaſe you, Heere at my houſe, and at my proper coſt. Madam, I am moſt apt t' embrace your offer: Your Maſter quits you; and for your ſeruice done him, So much againſt the mettle of your ſex, So farre beneath your ſoft and tender breeding, And ſince you call'd me Maſter, for ſo long: Heere is my hand, you ſhall from this time bee your Maſters Miſtris. A ſiſter, you are ſhe. Is this the Madman? I my Lord, this ſame: How now Maluolio? Madam, you haue done me wrong, Notorious wrong. Haue I Maluolio? No. Lady you haue, pray you peruſe that Letter. You muſt not now denie it is your hand, Write from it if you can, in hand, or phraſe, Or ſay, tis not your ſeale, not your inuention: You can ſay none of this. Well, grant it then, And tell me in the modeſtie of honor, Why you haue giuen me ſuch cleare lights of fauour, Bad me come ſmiling, and croſſe-garter'd to you, To put on yellow ſtockings, and to frowne Vpon ſir Toby, and the lighter people: And acting this in an obedient hope, Why haue you ſuffer'd me to be impriſon'd, Kept in a darke houſe, viſited by the Prieſt, And made the moſt notorious gecke and gull, That ere inuention plaid on? Tell me why?