Marmion, Shackerley · published 1632 · first performed or written 1631 [Dec] (Annals) comedy · Prince Charles's Men (second) · Salisbury Court unassigned nearest T16 Gallantry: ladies, lordships and complim · 501 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T16: lady, madam, gentleman, lordship, ladies, honour, mistress, sweet, court, servant.
ay, and perhaps persuade her to't, you know not Let us secure this business first of all, And then we'll meet at the Leaguer. 'Tis good counsel. And I'll confirm all with a jointure. Well, 'Tis done, I'll tell you more of her, she is one Whose tender years have not as yet aspired? The height of wickedness, but may be brought To commit venery in her own language, And be content with one man, has not robbed Young boves of their voices, knows not her slights, And doubles, nor her Labyrinths, through which, The Minotaur her husband shall ne'er track her, Cannot indite with art, nor give a censure, Upon the lines are sent her, has no agents, No factors, pensioners, or Champions, Nor has her tears fixed in their Station, To flow at her command, and so confirm Her perjury: not large in her expense, nor one That when she is dressed, will call a conventicle Of young, and old, to pass their judgements on her, As if her life were gauged upon the matter, Nor carries an Ephemerides about with her, To which sh' ascribes your forked destiny, Nor is her body crazy, neither takes she Physic for state, nor will rise up at Midnight To eat her Oysters, and drink Wine, till lust Dance in her veins, and till the house turns round, And she discern not twixt her head and tail. Nor holdeth strange intelligence abroad, To furnish her discourse with, neither takes she Her journey once a year toth' Bath, nor is So learned, as to judge betwixt your Poets, Which of them writes best, and fluenst, nor yet Is grown an Antiquary, to decide Matters in Heraldry: she has no fucus, To catch your lips like Birdlime, nor yet uses Restoratives, more than the help of nature; I'll speak the noblest words I can, of you: So many women on a mere report, Do fall in love with men, before they see them. Nay, when I see her, I am sure of her. I have a little haste, I am to meet A Countess at th' Exchange within this hour. Besides, I have a Catalogue of business, If I could think on't: so I take my leave, Farewell Gentlemen. Farewell Sir. Farewell sweet M. Coxcomb. This Wench I so commended, is my daughter. And if my skill not fails me, her I'll make A Stale, to take this Courtier in a brake. IS there no means t' absolve you of your oath? The blame on me, let the bright day no longer envy the darkness, that conceals such beauty: You are no Votary, and yet force your youth To such a strict and solitary life, Which others bound by vow, cannot perform. I wonder at the temper of your blood, So differing from your Sex, when your old women Do burn with lustful thoughts, as with a Fever, Yet you go on, in the old track of virtue, Now overgrown with seeds of vice.
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)
I, and perhaps perſwade her to't, you know not Let us ſecure this buſineſſe firſt of all, And then wee'll meet at the Leaguer. 'Tis good counſell. And I'll confirme all with a joynture. Well, 'Tis done, I'll tell you more of her, ſhee is one Whoſe tender yeares have not as yet aſpir'd? The height of wickedneſſe, but may be brought To commit venery in her owne language, And be content with one man, has not rob'd Young boves of their voices, knowes not her ſlights, And doubles, nor her Labyrinths, through which, The Minotaure her husband ſhall nere tracke her, Cannot indite with ar, tor giue a cenſure, Vpon the lines are ſenth er, has no agents, No factors, pentioners, or Champions, Nor has her teares fixt in thir Station, To flow at her command, and ſo confirme Her perjury: no large in her expence, nor one That when ſhe is dreſt, will call a conventicle Of young, and old, to paſſe their iudgements on her, As if her life were gag'd upon the matter, Nor carries an Ephemerides about with her, To which ſh' aſcribes your forked deſtinie, Nor is her body crazie, neither takes ſhee Phyſicke for ſtate, nor will riſe up at Midnight To eat her Oiſters, and drinke Wine, till luſt Dance in her veines, and till the houſe turnes round, And ſhee diſcerne not 'twixt her head and taile. Nor holdeth ſtrange intelligence abroad, To furniſh her diſcourſe with, neither takes ſhee Her journie once a yeare to'th Bath, nor is So learned, as to iudge betwixt your Poets, Which of them writes beſt, and fluenſt, nor yet Is growne an Antiquary, to decide Matters in Heraldry: ſhe has no fucus, To catch your lips like Birdlime, nor yet uſes Reſtoratives, more then the helpe of nature; I'll ſpeake the nobleſt words I can, of you: So many women on a meere report, Doe fall in love with men, before they ſee them. Nay, when I ſee her, I am ſure of her. I haue a little haſt, I am to meet A Counteſſe at th' Exchange within this houre. Beſides, I haue a Catalogue of buſineſſe, If I could thinke on't: ſo I take my leaue, Farewell Gentlemen. Farewell Sir. Farewell ſweet M. Coxcombe. This Wench I ſo commended, is my daughter. And if my skill not failes me, her I'll make A Stale, to take this Courtier in a brake. IS there no meanes t' abſolue you of your oath? The blame on me, let the bright day no longer nvy the darkeneſſe, that conceales ſuch beauty: You are no Votarie, and yet force your youth To ſuch a ſtrict and ſolitary life, Which others bound by vow, cannot performe. I wonder at the temper of your bloud, So differing from your Sexe, when your old women Doe burne with luſtfull thoughts, as with a Feaver, Yet you goe on, in the old track of vertue, Now overgrowne with ſeeds of vice.