Jonson, Ben · published 1631 · first performed or written 1616 [Oct-Nov (?)] (Annals) comedy · King's Men T0 Court life: dukes, favour and honour typicality 0.78 · 502 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T0: duke, lord, duchess, love, court, madam, prince, honour, grace, lady.
I know not that, Sir. But Thomas of Woodstock, I'm sure, was Duke, and he was made away, At Calais; as Duke Humphrey was at Bury: And Richard the third, you know what end he came too. By m'faith you are cunning i' the Chronicle, Sir. Not, I confess I have't from the Playbooks, And think theyare more authentic. That's sure, Sir. What say you (to this than) Not, a noble house. Pretends to that. I will do no man wrong. Than take one proposition more, and hear it As past exception. What's that? To be Duke of those lands, you shall recover: take Your title, thence, Sir, Duke of the Drowned-land, Or Drowned-land. Ha'? that last has a good sound! I like it well. The Duke of Drowned-land? Yes; It goes like Groenland, Sir, if you mark it. I, And drawing thus your honour from the work, You make the reputation of that, greater; And stayed the longer i' your name. 'Tis true. Drowned-land will live in Drowned-land! Yes, when you Ha' no foot left; as that must be, Sir, one day. And, though it tarry in your heirs, some forty, Fifty descents, the longer liver, at last, yet, Must thrust 'em out on't: if no quirk in law, Or odd Vice o' their own not do ' it first. We see those changes, daily: the fair lands, That were the Clients, are the Lawyers, now: And those rich Manors, there, of good man Tailors, Had once more wood upon 'em, than the yard, By which th' were measured out for the last purchase. Nature hath these vicissitudes. She makes No man a state of perpetuety, Sir. Ye are i' the right. Let's in than, and conclude. I my sight, again? I'll talk with you, anon. Sure he will geld me, if I stay: or worse, Pluck out my tongue, one o' the two. This Fool, There is no trusting of him: and to quit him, Were a contempt against my Chief, past pardon. It was a shrewd disheartening this, at first! Who would ha' thought a woman so well harnessed, Or rather well-caparisoned, indeed, That wears such petticoats, and lace to her smocks, Broad seeming laces (as I see 'em hung there) And garters which are lost, if she can show 'em, Can ha' done this? Hell! why is she so brave? It cannot be to please Duke Dotterel, sure, Nor the dull pictures, in her gallery, Nor her own dear reflection, in her glass; Yet that may be: I have known many of 'em, Begin their pleasure, but none end it, there: (That I consider, as I go a long with it) They may, for want of better company, Or that they think the better, spend an hour; Two, three, or four, discoursing with their shadow: But sure they have a farther speculation. No woman dressed with so much care, and study, Doth dress herself in vain. I'll vex this problem, A little more, before I leave it, sure.
seed 43: T0 · seed 44: T0 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
I know not that, Sir. But Thomas of Woodſtocke, I'm ſure, was Duke, and he was made away, At Calice; as Duke Humphrey was at Bury: And Richard the third, you know what end he came too. By m'faith you are cunning i' the Chronicle, Sir. No, I confeſſe I ha't from the Play-bookes, And thinke they'are more authentique. That's ſure, Sir. What ſay you (to this then) No, a noble houſe. Pretends to that. I will doe no man wrong. Then take one propoſition more, and heare it As paſt exception. What's that? To be Duke of thoſe lands, you ſhall recouer: take Your title, thence, Sir, Duke of the Drown'd-lands, Or Drown'd-land. Ha? that laſt has a good ſound! I like it well. The Duke of Drown'd-land? Yes; It goes like Groen-land, Sir, if you marke it. I, And drawing thus your honour from the worke, You make the reputation of that, greater; And ſtay't the longer i' your name. 'Tis true. Drown'd-lands will liue in Drown'd-land! Yes, when you Ha' no foote left; as that muſt be, Sir, one day. And, though it tarry in your heyres, ſome forty, Fifty deſcents, the longer liuer, at laſt, yet, Muſt thruſt 'hem out on't: if no quirk in law, Or odde Vice o' their owne not do' it firſt. Wee ſee thoſe changes, daily: the faire lands, That were the Clyents, are the Lawyers, now: And thoſe rich Mannors, there, of good man Taylors, Had once more wood vpon 'hem, then the yard, By which th' were meaſur'd out for the laſt purchaſe. Nature hath theſe viciſſitudes. Shee makes No man a ſtate of perpetuety, Sir. Yo' are i' the right. Let's in then, and conclude. I my ſight, againe? I'll talke with you, anon. SVre hee will geld mee, if I ſtay: or worſe, Pluck out my tongue, one o' the two. This Foole, There is no truſting of him: and to quit him, Were a contempt againſt my Chiefe, paſt pardon. It was a ſhrewd diſheartning this, at firſt! Who would ha' thought a woman ſo well harneſs'd, Or rather well-capariſon'd, indeed, That weares ſuch petticoates, and lace to her ſmocks, Broad ſeaming laces (as I ſee 'hem hang there) And garters which are loſt, if ſhee can ſhew 'hem, Could ha' done this? Hell! why is ſhee ſo braue? It cannot be to pleaſe Duke Dottrel, ſure, Nor the dull pictures, in her gallery, Nor her owne deare reflection, in her glaſſe; Yet that may be: I haue knowne many of 'hem, Beginne their pleaſure, but none end it, there: (That I conſider, as I goe a long with it) They may, for want of better company, Or that they thinke the better, ſpend an houre; Two, three, or foure, diſcourſing with their ſhaddow: But ſure they haue a farther ſpeculation. No woman dreſt with ſo much care, and ſtudy, Doth dreſſe her ſelfe in vaine. I'll vexe this probleme, A little more, before I leaue it, ſure.