The Spanish Bawd (Calisto and Meliboea) (Celestina) · chunk 15 of 205
Mabbe, James / Rojas, Fernando de · published 1631 · first performed or written 1631 (Annals) tragicomedy; literary play unassigned nearest T41 Household service: masters, doors and po · 524 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T41: master, house, door, iohn, old, mistress, basket, lord, gentleman, ick.
What a pocks, art thou deaf? Canst thou not hear? What would you, Sir? somebody knocks at the gate. Run. Who's there? Open the door for this matronly Dame and me. Sir, wot you who they are that knock so loud? It is Sempronio, and an old bawd he hath brought along with him. O how she is bedaubed with painting! Peace, peace, you Villain; she is my Aunt. Run, run (you rascal) and open the door. Well, it is an old saying, and I perceive, as true, The fish leaps out of the pan, and falls into the fire. And a man thinking to shun one danger, runs into another, worse than the former. For I thinking to keep close this matter from Parmeno, (on whose neck, either out of love, faithfulness, or fear, Reason hath laid her reins) I have fallen into the displeasure of this woman, who hath no less power over my life, than Ioue himself. Sir why do you vex yourself? why grieve you? Do you think, that in the ears of this woman, the name, by which I now call her doth any way sound reproachfully? Believe it not. Assure yourself, she glories as much in this name, as oft as she hears it, as you do, when you hear some voice, Calisto to be a gallant Gentleman. Besides, by this is she commonly called, and by this Title is she of all men generally known. If she pass along the streets among a hundred women, and some one perhaps blurts out, See, where's the old Bawd; without any impatiency, or any the least distemper, she presently turns herself about, nods the head, and answers them with a smiling countenance, and cheerful look. At your solemn banquets, your great feasts, your weddings, your gossipings, your merry meetings, your funerals, and all other assemblies whatsoever, where there is any resort of people, thither doth she repair, and there they make pastime with her. And if she pass by where there be any dogs, they straightway b●ke out this name; If she come amongst birds, they have no other note but this; If she sighed upon a flock of sheep, their bleatings proclaim no less; If she meet with beasts, they bellow forth the same: The frogs that lie in ditches, croak no other tune; Come she amongst your smiths, your Carpenters, your Armourers, your Ferriers, your Braziers, your joiners: why, their hammers beat all upon this word. In a word, all sorts of tools and instruments return no other Echo in the air; your Shoemakers sing this song; your Comb-makers join with them, your Gardeners, your ploughmen, your Reapers, you Vine-keepers pass away the pain fullness of their labours, in making her the subject of their discourse; your Table-players, and all other Gamesters never lose, but they peal forth her praises: To be short, be she wheresoever she be, all things whatsoever are in this world, repeat no other name but this: O what a devourer of roasted eggs was her husband? What would you more? Not one stone that strikes against another, but presently noiseth out, Old whore.
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)
What a pocks, art thou deafe? Canst thou not heare? What would you, Sir? Some body knocks at the gate. Runne. Who's there? Open the doore for this matronly Dame and mee. Sir, wot you who they are that knocke so loud? It is Sempronio, and an old bawd hee hath brought along with him. O how shee is bedawb'd with painting! Peace, peace, you Villaine; she is my Aunt. Run, run (you rascall) and open the doore. Well, it is an old saying, and I perceiue, as true, The fish leaps out of the panne, and falls into the fire. And a man thinking to shunne one danger, runnes into another, worse then the former. For I thinking to keep close this matter from Parmeno, (on whose neck, either out of loue, faithfulnesse, or feare, Reason hath laid her reynes) I haue fallen into the displeasure of this woman, who hath no lesse power ouer my life, then Ioue himselfe. Sir why doe you vexe your selfe? why grieue you? Doe you thinke, that in the eares of this woman, the name, by which I now call her doth any way sound reproachfully? Beleeue it not. Assure your selfe, she glories as much in this name, as oft as shee heares it, as you do, when you heare some voyce, Calisto to be a gallant Gentleman. Besides, by this is she commonly called, and by this Title is shee of all men generally knowne. If she passe along the streetes among a hundred women, and some one perhaps blurts out, See, where's the old Bawd; without any impatiency, or any the least distemper, shee presently turnes her selfe about, nods the head, and answers them with a smiling countenance, and cheerefull looke. At your solemne banquets, your great feasts, your weddings, your gossippings, your merry meetings, your funeralls, and all other assemblies whatsoeuer, where there is any resort of people, thither doth shee repaire, and there they make pastime with her. And if shee passe by where there be any dogs, they straightway bke out this name; If shee come amongst birds, they haue no other note but this; If she sight vpon a flocke of sheepe, their bleatings proclaime no lesse; If she meet with beasts, they bellow forth the same: The frogges that lie in ditches, croake no other tune; Come shee amongst your Smithes, your Carpenters, your Armourers, your Ferriers, your Brasiers, your Ioyners: why, their hammers beate all vpon this word. In a word, all sorts of tooles and instruments returne no other Eccho in the ayre; your Shoomakers sing this song; your Combe-makers joyne with them, your Gardeners, your Plough-men, your Reapers, you Vine-keepers passe away the paine fulnesse of their labours, in making her the subject of their discourse; your Table-players, and all other Gamesters neuer lose, but they peale foorth her prayses: To be short, be she wheresoeuer she be, all things whatsoeuer are in this world, repeate no other name but this: O what a deuourer of rosted egges was her husband? What would you more? Not one stone that strikes against another, but presently noyseth out, Old whore.