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 · 539 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T16: lady, madam, gentleman, lordship, ladies, honour, mistress, sweet, court, servant.
My daughter's maid, a wench fit for the purpose, Cunning as a Whore: beside, I have provided A bed, and hangings, and a casting bottle, And once a day a Doctor to visit her. Milliscent come hither, know this gentleman. Captain, here lies our venture, this is she, The rich Antomo's daughter, the great heir, And Niece to the grand Sophies of the City; That has been wood and sued to by great Lords, Alderman's sons, and agents of all sorts. Thus we have spoke thy praise, wench, has not seen The man she likes yet, but her fortunes may Ordain her to some better choice, to the making Of some deserving man, which must needs be Trimalchio, and no other; how lik'st thou her? Hang me, so well, I think you may go on, In a right line, she is worthy of a better. Few of your modern faces are so good. That's our comfort, she may put a good face on't. Let me alone, Sir, to be impudent, To laugh them out of countenance, look scurvy, As a citizen's daughter new turned Madam. I warrant you, Sir, my Mistress, and I, Have practised our Lirripoope together. Thou must insinuate strange things into her Both of her virtue and Nobility, The largeness of her dowry, besides jewels, Th' expected death of her old grand mother, That has a blessing for her, if she marry According to her mind, keep him at distance, Make him believe, 'tis hard to have access, And wait the happy hour, to be let in At the back door. ay, and the foredoor too. Thou hast a noble wit, and spirit, wench, That never was ordained for any stinkard T'engender with, or mechanic Citizen, Unless it were to Cuckold him, thou shalt Be still i'th' front of any fashion, And have thy several Gowns and Tires, take place, It is thy own, from all the City wires, And Summer birds in Town, that once a year Come up to moulter, and then go down toth' Country To jeer their neighbours, as they have been served Nay more, if you can act it handsomely, You'll put a period to my undertakings, And save me all my labour of projecting, As putting out my money on return, From aqua pendent, or some unknown place, That has as much ado to get a room I'th' Map, as a new Saint i'th' Calendar. 'Twill dead all my device in making matches, My plots of Architecture, and erecting New Amphitheatres, to draw the custom From playhouses once a week, and so pull A curse upon my head from the poor scoundrels. 'Twill hinder to the gain of Courtiers, Put on by me, to beg Monopolies, To have a sixth share in the business, Nor need I trample up and down the Country, To cheat with a Polonian, or false rings, Nor keep a taphouse o'th' Bank side, and make A stench worse than a Brewhouse, 'mongst my neighbours, Till I am grown so poor, that all my goods Are shipped away i'th' bottom of a Sculler, And then be driven t'inhabit some blind nook I'th' Suburbs, and my utmost refuge be To keep a bawdy house, and be carted.
seed 43: T5 · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
My daughters maid, a wench fit for the purpoſe, Cunning as a Whore: beſides, I haue prouided A bed, and hangings, and a caſting bottle, And once a day a Doctor to viſit her. Millſeent come hither, know this Gencleman. Captaine, herelyes our venter, this is ſhee, The rich Antomo's daughter, the great heire, And Neece o the grand Sophies of the City; That has beene wood and ſued to by great Lords, Aldermans ſonnes, and agents of all ſorts. Thus we haue ſpoke thy prayſe, wench, has not ſeene The man ſhe likes yet, but her fortunes may Ordaine her to ſome better choyce, to the making Of ſome deſeruing man, which muſt needs be Trimalchio, and no other; how lik'ſt thou her? Hang me, ſo well, I thinke you may goe on, In a right line, ſhe is worthy of a better. Few of your moderne faces are ſo good. That's our comfort, ſhee may put a good face o't. Let me alone, Sir, to be impudent, To laugh them out of countenance, looke skirvy, As a Citizens daughter new turn'd Madam. I warrant you, Sir, my Miſtris, and I, Haue practiſed our Lirripoope together. Thou muſt inſinuate ſtrange things into her Both of her vertue and Nobility, The largeneſſe of her dowry, beſides Iewels, Th' expected death of her old grand mother, That has a bleſſing for her, if ſhe marry According to her minde, keepe him at diſtance, Make him beleeue, 'tis hard to haue acceſſe, And wait the happy houre, to be let in At the backe doore. I, and the fore-doore too. Thou haſt a noble wit, and ſpirit, wench, That neuer was ordaind for any skinkard T'ingender with, or mechanick Citizen, Vnleſſe it were to Cuckold him, thou ſhalt Be ſtilli'th front of any faſhion, And haue thy ſeuerall Gownes and Tires, take place, It is thy owne, from all the City wires, And Summer birds in Towne, that once a yeare Come up to moulter, and then go down to'ch Country To jeere their neighbours, as they haue beene ſera'd Nay more, if you can act it handſomely, You'll put a period to my undertakings, And ſaue me all my labour of proiecting, As putting out my monie on returne, From aqua pendente, or ſome unknowne place, That has as much adoe to get a roome I'th Map, as a new Saint i'th Kalender. 'Twill dead all my deuice in making matches, My plots of Architecture, and erecting New Amphitheaters, to draw the cuſtome From Play-houſes once a weeke, and ſo pull A curſe upon my head from the poore ſcoundrels. 'Twill hinder to the gaine of Courtiers, Put on by me, to begge Monopolies, To haue a ſixt ſhare in the buſineſſe, Nor need I trample up and downe the Country, To cheat with a Polonian, or falſe rings, Nor keepe a tap-houſe o'th Banke ſide, and make A ſtench worſe then a Brew-houſe, 'mongſt my neighbours, Till I am growne ſo poore, that all my goods Are ſhipt away i'th bottome of a Sculler, And then be driven t'inhabit ſome blind nooke I'th Suburbs, and my utmoſt refuge be To keepe a bawdy houſe, and be carted.