The Renegado, or The Gentleman of Venice · chunk 17 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 unassigned nearest T48 Addressing a lady: love, desire and inti · 492 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T48: lady, love, heart, fair, eyes, la, lord, tears, fie, face.
How deserved? I have considered you from head to foot, And can find nothing in that wainscot face, That can teach me to dote, nor am I taken With your grim aspect, or toadpool-like complexion, Those scars you glory in, I fear to look on; And had much rather hear a merry tale Then all your battles won with blood and sweat, Though you belch forth the stink too, in the service, And swear by your mustachioes all is true. You are yet too rough for me, purge and take physic, Purchase perfumers, get me some French tailor, To new create you; the first shape you were made with Is quite worn out, let your barber wash your face too, You look yet like a bugbear to fright children, Till when I take my leave, wait me Carazie. Stay you my Lady's Cabinet key. How's this sir? Stay and stand quietly, or you shall fall else, Not to firk your belly up flounder like, but never To rise again. Offer but to unlock These doors that stop your fugitive tongue (observe me) And by my fury, I'll fix there this bolt To bar thy speech for ever. So, be safe now And but resolve me, not of what I doubt But bring assurance to a thing believed, Thou mak'st thyself a fortune, not depending On the uncertain favours of a Mistress, But art thyself one. I'll not so far question My judgement, and observance, as to ask Why I am slighted, and contemned, but in Whose favour it is done. I that have read The copious volumes of all women's falsehood, Commented on by the heart breaking groans Of abused lovers, all the doubts washed off With fruitless tears, the spider's cobweb veil Of arguments, allege in their defence, Blown off with sighs of desperate men, and they Appearing in their full deformity: Know that some other hath displanted me, With her dishonour. Has she given it up? Confirm it in two syllables? She has. I cherish thy confession thus, and thus, be mine, again I court thee thus, and thus Now prove but constant to my ends. By all— Enough, I dare not doubt thee. O land crocodiles Made of Egyptian slime, accursed women! But 'tis no time to rail: come my best Manto. Sir, as you are my confessor, you stand bound Not to reveal whatever I discover In that Religious way: nor dare I doubt you. Let it suffice, you have made me see my follies, And wrought perhaps compunction; For I would not Appear an hypocrite. But when you impose A penance on me, beyond flesh, and blood To undergo: you must instruct me how To put off the condition of a man: Or if not pardon, at the least, excuse My disobedience. Yet despair not sir, For though I take mine own way, I shall do Something that may hereafter to my glory, Speak me your Scholar.
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)
How deseru'd? I haue consider'd you from head to foote, And can find nothing in that waynscote face, That can teach me to dote, nor am I taken With your grimme aspect, or toadepoole-like complexion, Those scarres you glorie in, I feare to looke on; And had much rather heare a merrie tale Then all your battayles wonne with blood and sweate, Though you belch forth the stincke too, in the seruice, And sweare by your Mustachios all is true. You are yet too rough for me, purge and take physicke, Purchase perfumers, get me some French taylor, To new create you; the first shape you were made with Is quite worne out, let your barbar wash your face too, You looke yet like a bugbeare to fright children, Till when I take my leaue, wayte me Carazie. Stay you my Ladies Cabinet key. How's this sir? Stay and stand quietly, or you shall fall else, Not to firke your belly vp flounder like, but neuer To rise againe. Offer but to vnlocke These dores that stop your fugitiue tongue (obserue me) And by my fury, I'll fixe there this bolte To barre thy speech for euer. So, be safe now And but resolue me, not of what I doubt But bring assurance to a thing beleeu'd, Thou mak'st thy selfe a fortune, not depending On the vncertaine fauours of a Mistresse, But art thy selfe one. I'll not so far question My iudgement, and obseruance, as to aske Why I am slighted, and contemnde, but in Whose fauour it is done. I that haue read The copious volumes of all womens falsehood, Commented on by the heart breaking groanes Of abusde louers, all the doubts washde off With fruitlesse teares, the Spiders oobweb vayle Of arguments, alleadge in their defence, Blowne off with sighs of desperate men, and they Appearing in their full deformitie: Know that some other hath displanted me, With her dishonor. Has she giuen it vp? Confirme it in two sillables? She has. I cherish thy confession thus, and thus, Bee mine, againe I court thee thus, and thus Now prooue but constant to my ends. By all— Enough, I dare not doubt thee. O land Corcodiles Made of AEgyptian stime, accursed women! But tis no time to rayle: come my best Manto. Sir, as you are my confessor, you stand bound Not to reueale what euer I discouer In that Religious way: nor dare I doubt you. Let it suffice, you haue made me see my follies, And wrought perhaps compunction; For I would not Appeare an Hyppocrite. But when you impose A penance on me, beyond flesh, and blood To vndergoe: you must instructe me how To put off the condition of a man: Or if not pardon, at the least, excuse My disobedience. Yet despayre not sir, For though I take mine owne way, I shall doe Something that may hereafter to my glory, Speake me your Scholler.