Ford, John · published 1629 · first performed or written 1628 [licensed for stage, Nov 24] (Annals) tragicomedy · King's Men · Globe T11 Siblings, kin and confidants typicality 0.88 · 500 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T11: sister, brother, love, friend, heart, father, mother, woman, lord, hear.
Come all unto my chamber, the project is cast, The time only we must attend. The melody must agree well, and yield sport, When such as these are, Knaves and fool's consort. Does this show well? What would you have me do? Not like a Lady of the trim, new crept Out of the shell of sluttish sweat and labour, Into the glittering pomp of ease and wantonness, Embroideries, and all these antic fashions, That shape a woman monstrous; to transform Your education, and a Noble birth Into contempt and laughter. Sister, Sister, She who derives her blood from Princes, aught To glorify her greatness by humility. Then you conclude me proud. Young Menaphon, My worthy friend, has loved you long, and truly, To witness his obedience to your scorn, twelve months (wronged Gentleman) he undertook A voluntary exile. Wherefore (Sister) In this time of his absence, have you not Disposed of your affections on some Monarch? Or sent Ambassadors to some neighbouring King With fawning protestations of your graces? Your rare perfections, admirable beauty? This had been a new piece of modesty, Would have deserved a Chronicle! You are bitter; And brother, by your leave, not kindly wise. My freedom is my births, I am not bound To fancy your approvements, but my own. Indeed you are an humble youth, I hear of Your visits, and your loving commendation To your heart's Saint, Cleophila, a Virgin Of a rare excellence: what though she want A portion to maintain a portly greatness? Yet 'tis your gracious sweetness to descend So low, the meekness of your pity leads ye. She is your dear friends Sister, a good soul, An Innocent. Thamasta. I have given Your Menaphon a welcome home as fits me; For his sake entertained Parthenophill, The handsome Stranger, more familiarly Then (I may fear) becomes me; yet for his part, I not repent my courtesies, but you— No more, no more; be affable to both: Time may reclaim your cruelty. I pity The youth, and trust me (brother) love his sadness: He talks the prettiest stories, he delivers His tales so gracefully, that I could sit And listen, nay forget my meals and sleep, To hear his neat discourses. Menaphon Was well advised in choosing such a friend, For pleading his true love. Now I commend thee, thou'lt change at last, I hope. I fear I shall. Have ye surveyed the Garden? 'tis a curious, A pleasantly contrived delight. Your eye (Sir) Hath in your travails, often met contents Of more variety. Not any (Lady.) It were impossible, since your fair presence Makes every place where it vouchsafes to shine, More lovely than all other helps of Art Can equal. What you mean by helps of Art, You know yourself best, be they as they are: You need none I am sure to set me forth. 'Twould argue want of manners, more than skill, Not to praise praise itself. For your reward, Henceforth I'll call you Servant. Excellent Sister.
nodes 378–457 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 7 of 36 in this edition
Length
500 words · 685 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T11 — Siblings, kin and confidantscross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.885 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
seed 43: T15 · seed 44: T12 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Come all vnto my chamber, the proiect is cast, The time onely we must attend. The melody must agree well, and yeeld sport, When such as these are, Knaues and Fooles consort. Does this shew well? What would you haue me doe? Not like a Lady of the trim, new crept Out of the shell of sluttish sweat and labour, Into the glittering pompe of ease and wantonnesse, Imbroideries, and all these antike fashions, That shape a woman monstrous; to transforme Your education, and a Noble birth Into contempt and laughter. Sister, Sister, She who deriues her blood from Princes, ought To glorifie her greatnesse by humility. Then you conclude me proud. Young Menaphon, My worthy friend, has lou'd you long, and truly, To witnesse his obedience to your scorne, Twelue moneths (wrong'd Gentleman) he vndertooke A voluntary exile. Wherefore (Sister) In this time of his absence, haue you not Dispos'd of your affections on some Monarch? Or sent Embassadors to some neighbouring King With fawning protestations of your graces? Your rare perfections, admirable beauty? This had been a new piece of modesty, Would haue deseru'd a Chronicle! You are bitter; And brother, by your leaue, not kindly wise. My freedome is my births, I am not bound To fancy your approuements, but my owne. Indeed you are an humble youth, I heare of Your visits, and your louing commendation To your hearts Saint, Cleophila, a Virgin Of a rare excellence: what though she want A portion to maintaine a portly greatnesse? Yet tis your gracious sweetnesse to descend So low, the meeknesse of your pity leades yee. She is your deare friends Sister, a good soule, An Innocent. Thamasta. I haue giuen Your Menaphon a welcome home as fits me; For his sake entertain'd Parthenophill, The handsome Stranger, more familiarly Then (I may feare) becomes me; yet for his part, I not repent my courtesies, but you— No more, no more; be affable to both: Time may reclaime your cruelty. I pitty The youth, and trust me (brother) loue his sadnesse: He talkes the prettiest stories, he deliuers His tales so gracefully, that I coo'd sit And listen, nay forget my meales and sleepe, To heare his neat discourses. Menaphon Was well aduis'd in chusing such a friend, For pleading his true loue. Now I commend thee, Thou't change at last, I hope. I feare I shall. Haue ye suruaid the Garden? Tis a curious, A pleasantly contriu'd delight. Your eye (Sir) Hath in your trauailes, often met contents Of more variety. Not any (Lady.) It were impossible, since your faire presence Makes euery place where it vouchsafes to shine, More louely then all other helpes of Art Can equall. What you meane by helpes of Art, You know your selfe best, be they as they are: You need none I am sure to set me forth. 'Twould argue want of manners, more then skill, Not to praise praise it selfe. For your reward, Henceforth Ile call you Seruant. Excellent Sister.