The School of Compliment (Love Tricks) · chunk 37 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 · 501 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T49: mistress, gentleman, love, lady, woman, pray, gentlewoman, hear, honest, way.
With a Gentleman that has proved unkind, forsooth, broken his vows, and oaths, forsooth, he made much of me, time was, before his father died, forsooth, who was a good Yeoman, than he kissed me, forsooth, and called surreverence, but now he scorns Mopsa: I was his equal once, and have danced with him upon our Church green in a Morris ere now. Alas, alas, has forsaken thee? He is now about to commit matrimonial business with a young girl I wiss. 'Tis she. I'll have a trick to know it. Blessings on you Shepherdess, Yet by this hand, you are no less, You were in love with a fair man, Crossed by a father, began This Shepherd's life, & russet weed, Is it not the truth, I read? ha, ha. Sir, are you a Fortune-teller? No, I am fool, and yet I know Something, though you think not so. Do you see all this here? That and more in this table Lies your story: 'tis no fable, Not a line within your hand, But I easily understand: Your line of life is fair, hard by Ascends that of prosperity, But broken in the midst to th' Mount Of Saturn here, which ill we count, Ha, Triangle and Mercurial line? But Venus is no friend of thine. How now, Palmistry? believe him not. In your face your fate is wrote, You loved a woman, she not you, You know whether I say true, Her name began with S. but she, Shall never be enjoyed by thee, she's married now to one that's old, But very rich: your fortune's told. Beshrew me he has cunning. Do you believe him sir? Believe him? nay, you may believe him, he's abomination cunning man, he told me my fortune as right as if he had been in my belly. Does thy fortune lie in thy belly then, Sweetheart? Partly, sir, as other women's fortunes do. Damsel, you have yet a fate Will make you wonder more thereat, By collection, I dare prove, That his name, whom you did love, Began with G. but 'tis too true, He hath slain himself for you. Felice, come again, do not believe me, I told thee false, I did but try to gain a knowledge of thee: thy stars owe thee more happiness, Felice, look up, see thy friend alive, I am Gasparo. Foot, I ha' made fair work. Ha, 'tis Gasparo. Have I found thee, O wench, thou wert unjust, Too much unjust, thus to absent thyself From Gasparo, thy cruel father since Hath wept enough to wash away his error. Fates, I do thank you, for this blessed direction. But Infortunio, I am sorry now, I read the truth of thy unhappiness, It is too true, Selina is beyond Your sphere of hope, pardon, worthy sir, The shape I took, was not to mock your fortunes, But try mine own. And have I found the wench? Oh, no, no, your suit is in vain, hands off, Shepherds.
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)
With a Gentleman that has prou'd vnkind, forsooth, broken his vowes, and oathes, forsooth, hee made much of me, time was, before his father dyed, forsooth, who was a good Yeoman, then he kist me, forsooth, and coll'd surreuerence, but now hee scornes Mopsa: I was his equall once, and haue danced with him vpon our Church greene in a Morris ere now. Alas, alas, has forsaken thee? He is now about to commit makrimoniall businesse with a young girle I wisse. 'Tis she. Ile haue a tricke to know it. Blessings on you Shepheardesse, Yet by this hand, you are no lesse, You were in loue with a faire man, Crost by a father, began This Shepheards life, & russet weed, Is it not the truth, I reed? ha, ha. Sir, are you a Fortune-teller? No, I am foole, and yet I know Something, though you thinke not so. Doe you see all this here? That and more in this table Lies your story: 'tis no fable, Not a line within your hand, But I easily vnderstand: Your line of life is faire, hard by Ascends that of prosperity, But broken in the mid'st to th' Mount Of Saturne here, which ill we count, Ha, Triangle and Mercuriall line? But Venus is no friend of thine. How now, Palmistry? beleeue him not. In your face your fate is wrote, You lou'd a woman, she not you, You know whether I say true, Her name began with S. but shee, Shall neuer be enioyd by thee, Shees married now to one that's old, But very rich: your fortune's told. Beshrew me he has cunning. Doe you beleeue him sir? Beleeue him? nay, you may beleeue him, he's abomination cunning man, he told me my fortune as right as if he had beene in my belly. Does thy fortune lie in thy belly then, Sweet-heart? Partly, sir, as other womens fortunes doe. Damsell, you haue yet a fate Will make you wonder more thereat, By collection, I dare proue, That his name, whom you did loue, Began with G. but 'tis too true, He hath slaine himselfe for you. Felice, come againe, doe not beleeue me, I told thee false, I did but trie to gaine a knowledge of thee: thy starres owe thee more happinesse, Felice, looke vp, see thy friend aliue, I am Gasparo. Foot, I ha made faire worke. Ha, 'tis Gasparo. Haue I found thee, O wench, thou wert vniust, Too much vniust, thus to absent thy selfe From Gasparo, thy cruell father since Hath wept enough to wash away his error. Fates, I doe thanke you, for this blest direction. But Infortunio, I am sorry now, I read the truth of thy vnhappinesse, It is too true, Selina is beyond Your spheare of hope, pardon, worthy sir, The shape I tooke, was not to mocke your fortunes, But trie mine owne. And haue I found the wench? Oh, no, no, your suite is in vaine, hands off, Shepheards.