The School of Compliment (Love Tricks) · chunk 14 of 44
Shirley, James · published 1631 · first performed or written 1625 [licensed for stage, Feb 11] (Annals) comedy · Lady Elizabeth's Men · Phoenix/Cockpit unassigned nearest T49 Wooing a mistress: suitors, go-betweens · 483 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T49: mistress, gentleman, love, lady, woman, pray, gentlewoman, hear, honest, way.
Rascals? sheshu! was never such names and appellations put upon her, all her days, Becar her will make you eat up all her words and ignominies, or her plade shall make holes in your bellies diggon. A very puff, a weak cannibal. hay, puff, and Cannibals, if the Devil be in your mouths, her will pick your teeths with her welsh plade, and pay you for all your puffs, & Cannibals, warrant her. But 'tis her fault, alone impudent woman. Oh, may you like Narcissus perish by Your face, the fall of others, or unpitied Of heaven and earth, die loathsome! I could curse. Her can curse, and swear too, look you now. Pardon divinest sex, passions do force My reason from me, I do submit, Crave pardon, as your creature. Nay, and her crave pardons, and make submissions, lenkin was put up all her angers and indignations, farewell. Oh, Selina! Thou art too much an Adamant To draw my soul unto thee, either be Softer, or less attractive: but Rufaldo, 'Tis depth of witchcraft, oh, I could be mad, Beyond all patience mad, it is some malice Hath laid this poison on her. Here's Infortunio. Alas, poor Gentleman, little does he think what black and white is here, a bitter handful of commendations to him, my young Mistress is mad of the old Coxcomb, and will marry him almost without asking, I cannot tell but if she do not cuckold him, and make him cry corns on his toes ere he die, he has fool's fortune, for a wise man would be out of hope to avoid it, he spies me. Whither running, Gorgon? Not out of my wit, Sir, I have a Letter from my young Mistress Selina, must in all haste have cleanly conveyance to old Rufaldo. Let me but see the directions. To my beloved friend Master Rufaldo: 'tis a lie, she was mistaken, it was I should owe this appellation, I'll not believe the superscription, 'tis a painted face, I'd see the heart on't. I hope, sir, you will not throw open the sheet, and discover my Mistress secrets? How he stares! If you love me, and wish me constant, be your own friend, and let our marriage day begin with the next morning: thine, mine. Oh Selina, she's mad. All womankind is mad; and I am mad: whom shall I rend in pieces for my wrongs, and as with atoms fill this poisoned air, Rufaldo? Stay, is not she a creature rational? oh no, there is no spark of nature in her, all is sunk, lost for ever: stay, stay, see. He has made a tailor's bill on't, torn't apieces ere it be discharged: What shall I do? This is Medea's brother torn in pieces, And this the way where she with Iason flies, Tom Colchos, come not near 'em, see, look, That's an arm rent off.
seed 43: T32 · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Raskals? sheshu! was neuer such names and appellations put vpon her, awle her dayes, Becar her will make you eate vp awle her words and ignominies, or her plade shall make holes in your bellies diggon. A very puffe, a weake Canniball. Hey, puffe, and Cannibals, if the Deuill be in your mouthes, her will picke your teeths with her welsh plade, and pay you for all your puffes, & Cannibals, warrant her. But 'tis her fault, aloue impudent woman. Oh, may you like Narcissus perish by Your face, the fall of others, or vnpityed Of heauen and earth, dye loathsome! I could curse. Her can curse, and sweare too, looke you now. Pardon diuinest sexe, passions doe force My reason from me, I doe submit, Craue pardon, as your creature. Nay, and her craue pardons, and make submissions, lenkin was put vp awle her angers and indignations, farewell. Oh, Selina! Thou art too much an Adamant To draw my soule vnto thee, either be Softer, or lesse attractiue: but Rufaldo, 'Tis depth of witchcraft, oh, I could be mad, Beyond all patience mad, it is some malice Hath laid this poyson on her. Here's Infortunio. Alas, poore Gentleman, little does he thinke what blacke and white is here, a bitter handfull of commendations to him, my young Mistris is mad of the old Cockscombe, and will marry him almost without asking, I cannot tell but if shee doe not cuckold him, and make him crye cornes on his toes ere he dye, he has fooles fortune, for a wise man would be out of hope to auoyd it, he spies me. Whither running, Gorgon? Not out of my wit, Sir, I haue a Letter from my yong Mistris Selina, must in all haste haue cleanely conueyance to old Rufaldo. Let me but see the directions. To my beloued friend Master Rufaldo: 'tis a lye, she was mistaken, it was I should owe this appellation, Ile not beleeue the superscription, 'tis a painted face, I'de see the heart on't. I hope, sir, you will not throw open the sheet, and discouer my Mistris secrets? How he stares! If you loue me, and wish me constant, be your owne friend, and let our marriage day begin with the next morning: thine, mine. Oh Selina, she's mad. All womankinde is mad; and I am mad: whom shall I rend in pieces for my wrongs, and as with Atomes fill this poysned ayre, Rufaldo? Stay, is not she a creature rationall? oh no, there is no sparke of nature in her, all is sunke, lost for euer: stay, stay, see. He has made a Taylors bill on't, torn't apieces ere it be discharg'd: What shall I doe? This is Medias brother torne in pieces, And this the way where she with Iason flies, Tom Colchos, come not neere 'em, see, looke, That's an arme rent off.