Davenant, William · published 1630 · first performed or written 1629 [licensed for stage, Oct 2] (Annals) tragicomedy · King's Men · Blackfriars unassigned nearest T16 Gallantry: ladies, lordships and complim · 502 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T16: lady, madam, gentleman, lordship, ladies, honour, mistress, sweet, court, servant.
Thou art to every sense I have, a Spell. Conduct her straight (Mervolle) to some Throne! Then are the vows, the Ecclesiastic rites With which the zealous Priest obliged us to Peculiar heat, to abstinence from change, And various love, quite canceled by your lust? Accuse thy pride! Thou art a perjured man! Go, thou art as light as feathers, or the Air, were but an atom individual placed With thee in balance even, 'twould hoist thee up To th'clouds. Thy breath is fulsome as that steam Which Toads when they engender vaporate. Alteza, bath in penitential tears Thy leprous heart, or when the Elements Are mixed and the sad day arrives, that dooms The world unto eternity of joy, Or pain, thou shalt (like to a glimmering Lamp) Be hung upon the sooty walls of Hell. I smile at thee, and thy thin Arts; like to Some homely Village Levite, thou dost preach Of terrors strange, to keep dull faith in awe: I pray stay; I am not angry Sir. No? I practised all this while how t'endanger your spleen (Sir) not my own, which if my powers Prove just, I shall, perform ere long. Niente, send the party in— More wrath! A slow device (Sir) but o'my own Brain. Who art thou? A keen Guest, invited here— To what? To taste— your wives Gammons. Bold slave! be in thy speech more evident. I am come to get your children for you. D'ye want a clearer paraphrase? He is My servant Sir, my stallion if I please. A Courtly implement, and much in use Among Ladies of my growth and Title. O my cold Blood! My patience will be wrought So low, that I shall learn t'milk a Heifer. Since I'm so aptly furnished with delight, Your Concubine may fearless walk about The house, and share the wholesome Sun in peace. Thy tongue I do neglect: but you (sir) shall Ere long complain of your mortality: The minutes you must waste on Earth are few. This I consider Sir, and therefore make Such haste to mingle with your wife; that the Kind world may have some issue from my Loins. If this prove true, let Babes piss out my Eyes— Hold Altamont, or else I wound thy heart— If you advance one inch beyond that rush I'll amble through the Streets, and blow your Dirge With the great Horn that grows upon your Brow. If there be Gall in Heaven, the general Bag Is opened, and it falls in Showers! 'Slight Sir; I come t'ease the labour of your Body; And you want courtship to return me thanks. Hang him Ingrate! But what hereafter I Perform, shall be for your good lady's sake, And not for yours. Pray (sir) let's interchange A little breath: withal (if you consent) We'll put our Swords to a more quiet use— Now Sir, you pour sweet Cassia in my Broth. My Blood affects to skirmish more With Ladies then with men. What would you speak?
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)
Thou art to euerie ſenſe I haue, a Spell. Conduct her ſtrait (Meruolle) to ſome Throne! Then are the vowes, the Eccleſiaſticke rites With which the zealous Prieſt oblig'd vs to Peculiar heate, to abſtinence from change, And various loue, quite cancell'd by your luſt? Accuſe thy pride! Thou art a periur'd man! Goe, thou art as light as feathers, or the Aire, were but an Attome indiuiduall plac'd With thee in ballance euen, t'would hoiſe thee vp To th'Cloudes. Thy breath is fulſome as that ſteame Which Toades when they ingender vaporate. Alteza, bath in penitentiall teares Thy leprous heart, or when the Elements Are mix'd and the ſad day ariues, that doomes The world vnto eternitie of ioy, Or paine, thou ſhalt (like to a glimmering Lampe) Be hung vpon the ſootie walles of Hell. I ſmile at thee, and thy thinne Arts; like to Some homelie Village Leuite, thou doeſt preach Of terrours ſtrange, to keepe dull faith in awe: I pray ſtay; I am not angrie Sir. No? I practiſd all this while how t'indanger your ſpleene (Sir) not my owne▪ which if my powers Prooue iuſt, I ſhall, performe ere long. Niente, ſend the partie in— More wrath! A ſlow deuice (Sir) but o'my owne Braine. Who art thou? A keene Gueſt, inuited heere— To what? To taſte—your wiues Gammons. Bold ſlaue! be in thy ſpeech more euident. I am come to get your children for you. D'ye want a cleerer paraphraſe? He is My ſeruant Sir, my ſtallion if I pleaſe. A Courtly implement, and much in vſe Among Ladies of my growth and Title. O my cold Blood! My patience will be wrought So low, that I ſhall learne t'mike a Heifer. Since I'me ſo aptly furniſh'd with delight, Your Concubine may feareleſſe walke about The houſe, and ſhare the wholeſome Sunne in peace. Thy tongue I doe neglect: but you (ſir) ſhall Ere long complaine of your mortality: The minutes you muſt waſte on Earth are few. This I conſider Sir, and therefore make Such haſte to mingle with your wife; that the Kinde world may haue ſome iſſue from my Loynes. If this prooue true, let Babes piſſe out my Eyes— Hold Altamont, or elſe I wound thy heart— If you aduance one inch beyond that ruſh I'le amble through the Streets, and blow your Dirge With the great Horne that growes vpon your Brow. If there be Gall in Heauen, the gen'rall Bagge Is opned, and it falls in Showres! S'light Sir; I come t'eaſe the labour of your Body; And you want courtſhip to returne me thanks. Hang him Ingrate! But what hereafter I Performe, ſhall be for your good Ladies ſake, And not for yours. Pray (ſir) let's interchange A little breath: withall (if you conſent) We'le put our Swords to a more quiet vſe— Now Sir, you powre ſweet Caſſia in my Broath. My Blood affects to skirmiſh more With Ladies then with men. What would you ſpeake?