The Renegado, or The Gentleman of Venice · chunk 12 of 39
Massinger, Philip · published 1630 · first performed or written 1624 [licensed for stage, Sep 17] [incorrect] (Annals) tragicomedy · Lady Elizabeth's Men · Phoenix/Cockpit T48 Addressing a lady: love, desire and inti typicality 0.80 · 489 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T48: lady, love, heart, fair, eyes, la, lord, tears, fie, face.
They are degrees, Not ends of my intended favours to thee. These seeds of bounty I yet scatter on A glebe I have not tried, but be thou thankful The harvest is to come. What can be added To that which I already have received, I cannot comprehend. The tender of Myself. Why dost thou start! and in that gift, Full restitution of that Virgin freedom Which thou hast robbed me of. Yet I profess I so far prize the lovely thief that stole it, That were it possible thou couldst restore What thou unwittingly hast ravished from me, I should refuse the present. How I shake In my constant resolution! and my flesh Rebellious to my better part now tells me, As if it were a strong defence of frailty. A Hermit in a desert trenched with prayers Could not resist this battery. Thou an Italian? Nay more I know't, a natural Venetian, Such as are Courtiers borne to please fair Ladies, Yet come thus slowly on? Excuse me madam, What imputation soe'er the world Is pleased to lay upon us: in myself I am so innocent that I know not what 'tis That I should offer. By instinct I'll teach thee, And with such ease as love makes me to ask it. When a young Lady wrings you by the hand thus, Or with an amorous touch presses your foot Looks babies in your eyes, plays with your locks, Do not you find without a tutor's help What 'tis she looks for. I am grown already Skilful in the mystery. Or if thus she kiss you, Than tastes your lips again. That latter blow Has beat all chaste thoughts from me. Say she points to Some private room, the Sun beams never enters, Provoking dishes, passing by to heighten Declined appetite, active Music ushering Your fainting steps, the waiters too as borne dumb, Not daring to look on you. Though the Devil Stood by, and roared, I follow: now I find That virtue's but a word, and no sure guard If set upon by beauty, and reward. The Devils in him i think. Let him be damned too I'll look on him though he stared as wild as hell, Nay I'll go near to tell him to his teeth If he mends not suddenly, and proves more thankful, We do him too much service, were't not for shame now I could turn honest and forswear my trade, Which next to being trust up at the main yard By some low country butterbox, I hate As deadly as I do fasting, or long grace When meat cools on the table. But take heed, You know his violent nature. Let his Whores And Catamites, know't, I understand myself, And how unmanly 'tis to sit at home And rail at us, that run abroad all hazards: If every week we bring not home new pillage, For the fatting his Seraglio.
seed 43: T31 · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
They are degrees, Not ends of my intended fauors to thee. These seeds of bountie I yet scatter on A glebe I haue not tride, but be thou thankefull The haruest is to come. What can be added To that which I already haue recieu'd, I cannot comprehend. The tender of Myselfe. Why dost thou start! and in that guift, Full restitution of that Virgin freedome Which thou hast rob'd mee of. Yet I professe I so farre prize the louely theefe that stole it, That were it possible thou couldest restore What thou vnwittingly hast rauisht from me, I should refuse the present. How I shake In my constant resolution and my flesh Rebellious to my better part now tells me, As if it were a strong defence of frailtie. A Hermit in a desert trenchd with prayers Could not resist this batterie. Thou an Italian? Nay more I know't, a naturall Venetian, Such as are Courtiers borne to please fayre Ladies, Yet come thus slowely on? Excuse me Madame, What imputation so ere the world Is pleasde to lay vpon vs: in my selfe I am so innocent that I know not what tis That I should offer. By instinct I'le teach thee, And with such ease as loue makes me to aske it. When a young Lady wrings you by the hand thus, Or with an amorous touch presses your foote Lookes babies in your eyes, playes with your locks, Doe not you find without a tutors helpe What tis she lookes for. I am growne already Skilfull in the mysterie. Or if thus she kisse you, Then tast's your lips againe. That latter blow Has beate all chaste thoughts from me. Say she poynts to Some priuate roome, the Sunne beames neuer enters, Prouoking dishes, passing by to heighten Declined appetite, actiue Musicque vshering Your faynting steps, the wayters too as borne dumbe, Not daring to looke on you. Though the Diuell Stood by, and rorde, I follow: now I finde That Vertue's but a word, and no sure garde If set vpon by beauty, and reward. The Diuels in him thinke. Let him be damn'd too Ile looke on him though he stard as wild as hell, Nay Ile goe neere to tell him to his teeth If he mends not suddenly, and prooues more thankefull, We doe him too much seruice, were't not for shame now I could turne honest and forsweare my trade, Which next to being trust vp at the maine yard By some low cuntrey butterbox, I hate As deadly as I doe fasting, or long grace When meate cooles on the table. But take heede, You know his violent nature. Let his Whores And Catamites, know't, I vnderstand my selfe, And how vnmanly tis to sit at home And rayle at vs, that run abroad all hazards: If euery weeke we bring not home new pillage, For the fatting his Serraglio.