The Spanish Bawd (Calisto and Meliboea) (Celestina) · chunk 70 of 205
Mabbe, James / Rojas, Fernando de · published 1631 · first performed or written 1631 (Annals) tragicomedy; literary play unassigned nearest T49 Wooing a mistress: suitors, go-betweens · 521 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T49: mistress, gentleman, love, lady, woman, pray, gentlewoman, hear, honest, way.
Dost thou hear him; Sempronio? Your Master is now of another temper; these words are of another tune, than those we lately heard both of Parmeno, and him, at our first coming hither. The matter I see is well amended; there is never a word I shall tell him, but shall be better to old Celestina, than a new petticoat. Make at your coming in, as though you did not see Calisto, using some good words as you go. Peace, Sempronio; Though I have hazarded my life for him, yet Calisto's own worth, and his, and your joint entreaties, merit much more than this. And I hope, he will well reward me for my pains, being so frank and Noble a Gentleman as he is. What good news (mother?) speak (dear mother.) O my good Lord and Master Calisto, How is it? how is it with you? O my new Lover (and not without just cause) of fairest Melibea! How canst thou make this old woman amends, who hath hazarded her life in thy service? What woman was ever driven to such narrow shifts? The very thought whereof, makes my heart to faint, emptying my vital veins of all their blood. I would have given my life for less than the price of this old tottered Mantle, which you see here on my back. Thou art all (I see) for thyself. That is it thou shootest at. Thou art like a lettuce, that grows betwixt two Coleworts; If thou be let alone, thou will overtop them. The next word I look for, is, that she beg a Kirtle for her Mantle: thou art all (I perceive) for thyself; and wilt not ask any thing, whereof others may have part. The old woman will implume him, not leaving him so much as one feather; how cunningly does she work him? how craftily pitch her news to catch me and my Master, seeking to make me faithless, and him foolish? Do but mark her (Sempronis) be still, and give her but the hearing, and you shall see, she will not demand any money of my Master, because it is divisible. Peace, (thou despairful fellow) lest Calisto kill thee, if he chance to hear thee. Good mother, either cut off thy discourse, or take thou this sword and kill me. Now, what a Devil ails he? He shakes and quivers like a fellow that hath had his senses overtouched with quicksilver. Look, he cannot stand on his legs; would I could help him to his tongue, that I might hear him speak again: sure, he cannot live long, if this fit continue. we shall get well by this his love, shall we not? Every man his mourning weed, and there's an end. Your sword, Sir. Now I hope not: What? Take your sword and kill you? There's a word indeed to kill my heart. No; let your sword serve to kill your enemies, and such as wish you harm. As for me, I will give thee life, man, by that good hope, which I have in her, whom thou lovest best. Good hope, mother?
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)
Dost thou heare him; Sempronio? Your Master is now of another temper; these words are of another tune, then those wee lately heard both of Parmeno, and him, at our first comming hither. The matter I see is well amended; there is neuer a word I shall tell him, but shall be better to old Celestina, then a new petticoate. Make at your comming in, as though you did not see Calisto, vsing some good words as you goe. Peace, Sempronio; Though I haue hazarded my life for him, yet Calisto's owne worth, and his, and your ioynt intreaties, merit much more then this. And I hope, he will well reward me for my paines, being so franke and Noble a Gentleman as hee is. What good newes (mother?) speak (deare mother.) O my good Lord and Master Calisto, How is it? how is it with you? O my new Louer (and not without iust cause) of fairest Melibea! How canst thou make this old woman amends, who hath hazarded her life in thy seruice? What woman was euer driuen to such narrow shifts? The very thought whereof, makes my heart to faint, emptying my vitall veynes of all their bloud. I would haue giuen my life for lesse then the price of this old tottred Mantle, which you see heere on my backe. Thou art all (I see) for thy selfe. That is it thou shoot'st at. Thou art like a Lettice, that growes betwixt two Cole-worts; If thou be let alone, thou wil ouer-top them. The next word I look for, is, that she begge a Kirtle for her Mantle: thou art all (I perceiue) for thy selfe; and wilt not aske any thing, whereof others may haue part. The old woman will implume him, not leauing him so much as one feather; how cunningly does shee worke him? how craftly pitch her nes to catch me and my Master, seeking to make me faithlesse, and him foolish? Doe but marke her (Sempronis) be still, and giue her but the hearing, and you shall see, shee will not demand any money of my Master, because it is diuisible. Peace, (thou despairefull fellow) lest Calisto kill thee, if he chance to heare thee. Good mother, either cut off thy discourse, or take thou this sword and kill mee. Now, what a Diuell ailes he? He shakes and quiuers like a fellow that hath had his senses ouer-toucht with quicke-siluer. Looke, hee cannot stand on his legges; would I could helpe him to his tongue, that I might heare him speake againe: sure, he cannot liue long, if this fft continue. Wee shall get well by this his loue, shall wee not? Euery man his mourning weed, and there's an end. Your sword, Sir. Now I hope not: What? Take your sword and kill you? There's a word indeed to kill my heart. No; let your sword serue to kill your enemies, and such as wish you harme. As for mee, I will giue thee life, man, by that good hope, which I haue in her, whom thou louest best. Good hope, mother?