Renaissance Drama — Topics · seed 42

The School of Compliment (Love Tricks) · chunk 17 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 T45 Widows, wooing and remarriage · 486 words

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Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T45: widow, widows, hoord, master, gentlemen, wife, randalls, wit, mistress, married.

What should this mean, it is a strange absence, ath' wedding day too. That angers me most, sir. My heart misgives me, some fatal accident upon my life, is happened to her. Hast thou happy news? I have travelled all the Town o'er, and can meet no intelligence of her. Be dumb, night-Raven, she's lost, she's lost, The Fates sure make conspiracy to take My Daughters from me: one I lost because I would not give her, and I have repented Full justice for it, and am I so unhappy To lose Selina too? but I'll not sleep, Until I find her either alive or dead. Rufaldo, you have interest in this sorrow, join in the inquisition. Oh my Girl Selina. Have I been young for this? if I find her not, I will run, I will run, I will run mad, mad. No more, I know where her clothes be: if it take, applaud my invention: I have cozened my own Father before now, and I will try new conclusions, but I must have thy assistance and secrecy: if my Sister have a conceit of mirth to put upon us, I may chance put her to prove herself Selina, or remove her with a Habeas corpus. Iocarello's, all is true, Selina is gone in Shepherd's vestments to the woods & Forests, but her will make travels and ambulations after her: never was Sentilman i'th' hole world love as Ienkin now, to make journeys & peregrinations for a woman's, look you: but if her find her, as know her very well, her will there make all sure works and performances, warrant you Pages, here is moneys, pray you make provisions of breads and victuals too, know uds are very bare places, and Shenkin was always have cud stomachs and appetites, look you, pray you, do, pray you, do. Be the hangings up, Curculio, and all the Chairs and Stools put into method? the day is old, methinks, time runs fast, methinks, upon the minute, brings my disciples. Do my bills of compliment still relish, Curculio, do they please the palate, ha? My most ingenious and noble Criticotaster, bravely bills, pills you should say, not faced, but lined, with gold they swallow 'em greedily, and still flock to 'em, and conglomerate my son and heir of the Muses: a proclamation is as quiet as the poor man's box, no man looks after it, not a ballad-monger has any audience: but happy is the man that rides first post to your papers & cries admirable: your old men look upon 'em with their spectacles, as they would eye an obligation within a minute of forfeiture. Thou hast eaten up the furies already, and speakest all buskins, but close walk in the clouds, yet I have not heard of any mountebank of wit durst ever attempt to set up shop ath' trade yet: but whist, Usher, take your place.
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Details

Metadata, position in the edition, topic in the other seeds
PlayThe School of Compliment (Love Tricks)
AuthorShirley, James
Publication year (edition)1631
First performance / composition (Annals)1625 [licensed for stage, Feb 11]
First performance (BritDrama)1625 [Feb]
Company (BritDrama)Lady Elizabeth's Men
TheaterPhoenix/Cockpit;Indoor Professional
Genre (British Drama)comedy
Play typeAdult Professional;Professional
Edition / TCP / DEEPedition 954 · TCP A12152 · DEEP 765
Edition roleRepresentative edition — used in the analysis
Positionnodes 487–506 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 17 of 44 in this edition
Length486 words · 668 tokens
Topic (seed 42)unassigned by HDBSCAN · nearest topic T45 — Widows, wooing and remarriage at 0.750
Other seedsseed 43: unassigned · seed 44: T12 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
What should this meane, it is a strange absence, ath' wedding day too. That angers me most, sir. My heart misgiues me, some fatall accident vpon my life, is hapned to her. Hast thou happy newes? I haue traueiled all the Towne o're, and can meete no intelligence of her. Be dumbe, night-Rauen, she's lost, she's lost, The Fates sure make conspiracy to take My Daughters from me: one I lost because I would not giue her, and I haue repented Full iustice for it, and am I so vnhappy To lose Selina too? but Ile not sleepe, Vntill I finde her either aliue or dead. Rufaldo, you haue interest in this sorrow, Ioine in the inquisition. Oh my Girle Selina. Haue I beene yong for this? if I finde her not, I will run, I will run, I will run mad, mad. No more, I know where her clothes be: if it take, applaud my inuention: I haue coozned my owne Father before now, and I will try new conclusions, but I must haue thy assistance and secresie: if my Sister haue a conceit of mirth to put vpon vs, I may chance put her to proue her selfe Selina, or remoue her with a Habeas corpus. Iocarelloes, awle is true, Selina is gone in Shepheards vestiments to the woods & Forrests, but her wil make trauels and ambulations after her: neuer was Sentilman ith' hole world loue as Ienkin now, to make iourneyes & peregrinations for a womans, looke you: but if her finde her, as know her very well, her will there make awle sure works and performances, warrant you Pages, here is moneyes, pray you make prouisions of breads and victuals too, know vds are very bare places, and Shenkin was alwaies haue cud stomacks and appetites, looke you, pray you, doe, pray you, doe. Be the hangings vp, Curculio, and all the Chaires and Stooles put into methode? the day is old, me thinkes, time runs fast, me thinkes, vpon the minute, brings my disciples. Doe my bils of complement still relish, Curculio, doe they please the pallat, ha? My most ingenious and noble Criticotaster, brauely bils, pils you should say, not fac'd, but lin'd, with gold they swallow 'em greedily, and still flocke to 'em, and conglomerate my sonne and heire of the Muses: a proclamation is as quiet as the poore mans box, no man lookes after it, not a Balladmonger has any audience: but happy is the man that rides first poast to your papers & cryes admirable: your old men looke vpon 'em with their spectacles, as they would eye an obligation within a minute of forfeyture. Thou hast eaten vp the furies already, and speakest all buskins, but close walke in the cloudes, yet I haue not heard of any Mountebanke of wit durst euer attempt to set vp shop ath' trade yet: but whist, Vsher, take your place.