Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1610 [c.1610-1611] (Annals) romance · King's Men unassigned nearest T16 Gallantry: ladies, lordships and complim · 476 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T16: lady, madam, gentleman, lordship, ladies, honour, mistress, sweet, court, servant.
O Doricles, Your praises are too large: but that your youth And the true blood which peeps fairly through't, Do plainly give you out an unstained Sphepherd With wisdom, I might fear (my Doricles) You wooed me the false way. I think you have As little skill to fear, as I have purpose To put you to't. But come, our dance I pray, Your hand (my Perdita:) so Turtles pair That never mean to part. I'll swear for 'em. This is the prettiest Low-born Lass, that ever Ran on the greene-sord: Nothing she does, or seems But smacks of something greater than herself, Too Noble for this place. He tells her something That makes her blood look on't: Good sooth she is The Queen of Curds and Cream. Come on: strike up. Mopsa must be your Mistress: marry Garlic to mend her kissing with. Now in good time. Not a word, a word, we stand upon our manners, Come, strike up. Pray good Shepherd, what fair Swain is this, Which dances with your daughter? They call him Doricles, and boasts himself To have a worthy Feeding; but I have it Upon his own report, and I believe it: He looks like sooth: he says he loves my daughter, I think so too; for never gazed the Moon Upon the water, as he'll stand and read As 'twere my daughter's eyes: and to be plain, I think there is not half a kiss to choose Who loves another best. She dances fearly. So she does any thing, though I report it That should be silent: If young Doricles Do light upon her, she shall bring him that Which he not dreams of. O Master: if you did but hear the Pedlar at the door, you would never dance again after a Tabor and Pipe: no, the Bagpipe could not move you: he singes several Tunes, faster than you'll tell money: he utters them as he had eaten ballads, and all men's ears grew to his Tunes. He could never come better: he shall come in: I love a ballad but even too well, if it be doleful matter merrily set down: or a very pleasant thing indeed, and sung lamentably. He hath songs for man, or woman, of all sizes: No Milliner can so fit his customers with Gloves: he has the prettiest Lovesongs for Maids, so without bawdry (which is strange,) with such delicate burdens of Dildoes and Fade: jump-her, and thump-her; and where some stretch-mouthed Rascal, would (as it were) mean mischief, and break a fowl gap into the Matter, he makes the maid to answer, Whoop, do me no harm good man: put's him off, slights him, with Whoop, do me no harm good man. This is a brave fellow. Beleeee me, thou talkest of an admirable conceited fellow, has he any unbraided Wares?
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)
O Doricles, Your praiſes are too large: but that your youth And the true blood which peepes fairely through't, Do plainly giue you out an vnſtain'd Sphepherd With wiſedome, I might feare (my Doricles) You woo'd me the falſe way. I thinke you haue As little skill to feare, as I haue purpoſe To put you to't. But come, our dance I pray, Your hand (my Perdita:) ſo Turtles paire That neuer meane to part. Ile ſweare for 'em. This is the prettieſt Low-borne Laſſe, that euer Ran on the greene-ſord: Nothing ſhe do's, or ſeemes But ſmackes of ſomething greater then her ſelfe, Too Noble for this place. He tels her ſomething That makes her blood looke on't: Good ſooth ſhe is The Queene of Curds and Creame. Come on: ſtrike vp. Mopſa muſt be your Miſtris: marry Garlick to mend her kiſſing with. Now in good time. Not a word, a word, we ſtand vpon our manners, Come, ſtrike vp. Pray good Shepheard, what faire Swaine is this, Which dances with your daughter? They call him Doricles, and boaſts himſelfe To haue a worthy Feeding; but I haue it Vpon his owne report, and I beleeue it: He lookes like ſooth: he ſayes he loues my daughter, I thinke ſo too; for neuer gaz'd the Moone Vpon the water, as hee'l ſtand and reade As 'twere my daughters eyes: and to be plaine, I thinke there is not halfe a kiſſe to chooſe Who loues another beſt. She dances fearly. So ſhe do's any thing, though I report it That ſhould be ſilent: If yong Doricles Do light vpon her, ſhe ſhall bring him that Which he not dreames of. O Maſter: if you did but heare the Pedler at the doore, you would neuer dance againe after a Tabor and Pipe: no, the Bag-pipe could not moue you: hee ſinges ſeuerall Tunes, faſter then you'l tell money: hee vtters them as he had eaten ballads, and all mens eares grew to his Tunes. He could neuer come better: hee ſhall come in: I loue a ballad but euen too well, if it be dolefull matter merrily ſet downe: or a very pleaſant thing indeede, and ſung lamentably. He hath ſongs for man, or woman, of all ſizes: No Milliner can ſo fit his cuſtomers with Gloues: he has the prettieſt Loue-ſongs for Maids, ſo without bawdrie (which is ſtrange,) with ſuch delicate burthens of Dildo's and Fadings: Iump-her, and thump-her; and where ſome ſtretch-mouth'd Raſcall, would (as it were) meane miſcheefe, and breake a fowle gap into the Matter, hee makes the maid to anſwere, Whoop, doe me no harme good man: put's him off, ſlights him, with Whoop, doe mee no harme good man. This is a braue fellow. Beleeee mee, thou talkeſt of an admirable conceited fellow, has he any vnbraided Wares?