Shirley, James · published 1632 · first performed or written 1632 [licensed for stage, Jan 10] (Annals) comedy · King's Revels Company (?); Prince Charles's Men (second) (?) · Salisbury Court unassigned nearest T48 Addressing a lady: love, desire and inti · 492 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T48: lady, love, heart, fair, eyes, la, lord, tears, fie, face.
Sir have patience, I have not been so hasty, To become tedious at last, refer that to my care; Since you have made a marriage in your hearts, The Church shall soon confirm it. What do y' think of this? Faith yet be wise and leave this wooing, I shall maintain this humour to my mother, And find a crotchet to come off with honour, you have not Yet my hate, pray let's be friends, and never meet again, This is very fine i'faith, if I do not study some mischief. Conceal for your own shame. How d'ye like 'em Lady? 't pleasd your father To impose somewhat severely on my Muse, But your Divine acceptance shall declare it A Crowned Poem, most illustrious Simple, Simple me no more than I simple thee. Sir, there is a Lady inquires for Master Caperwit. A Lady out of compliment? 'tis he. she seems of Noble quality, she has Coach and fair Attendants, and calls herself the Lady Bird. Good Cupid is it she? Who gave her direction to find me here? An honourable Lady, I confess, and hath a fortune Noble like her birth, 'tis the rich Alderman's widow, The great Bird that died at's Country house, a Kinsman To the Ravens of the City; by no means admit her, she'll betray her foolish Passion. What is the matter? Some few days ago I did by chance, but drop a compliment, How much I was her servant, and she took it Toth' heart, and ever since hath sought occasion To express her love to me, poor Gentlewoman, You cannot help it. 'tis one, but of the myriad of Ladies That have been taken— With your tropes and figures, No matter, let her come, it were not civil Sir to deny yourself. she'll tire all patience: But Lady, be assured my heart is dedicate To you, and were all women kind in balance With your divinest person, their light scale Would kick the Firmament, or coming down, be lost i'th' middle Region of the air, Or be converted to a Cloud to weep Upon the earth, for being so much excelled. Where's this Footman? Trot my Lady's Footman, Go pray my Uncle Sir Walter Cormorant To dine with me tomorrow— And do y'heare? 'tis in your way to ask if my Cosin Bulfinch, The Steward of my Land, be come to Town, He lies in Fleetstreet between Hawk and Buzzard. I'th' afternoon, remember Sirrah, that You go to Master Kite, that lives i'th' Poultry, And say I shall expect the thousand pound, Was lent him upon mortgage: Sir, beseech your Nobleness excuse me, The affairs so nearly do concern me, with A Gentleman, (now your guest,) that I presumed It should not be offence, if I took hold Of this occasion, to speak with him. Madame, you need plead no excuse for that, Command your freedom here: Daughters, my Lady Would have some private conference,
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)
Sir have patience, I have not beene so hasty, To become tedious at last, referre that to my care; Since you have made a marriage in your hearts, The Church shall soone confirme it. What doey' thinke of this? Faith yet be wise and leave this wooing, I shall maintaine this humour to my mother, And finde a crotchet to come off with honour, you have not Yet my hate, pray let's bee friends, and never meet agen, This is very fine yfaith, if I do not study some mischiefe. Conceale for your owne shame. How doe'y like 'em Lady? 'tpleasd your father To impose somewhat severely on my Muse, But your Divine acceptance shall declare it A Crowned Poem, most illustrious Simple, Simple mee no more than I simple thee. Sir, there is a Lady enquires for Master Caperwit. A Lady out of complement? tis hee. Shee seemes of Noble quality, she has Coach and faire Attendants, and cals her selfe the Lady Bird. Good Cupid is it shee? Who gave her direction to finde mee here? An honourable Lady, I confesse, and hath a fortune Noble like her birth, tis the rich Aldermans widdow, The great Bird that dyed at's Country house, a Kinsman To the Ravens of the City; by no meanes admit her, Shee'le betray her foolish Passion. What is the matter? Some few dayes agoe I did by chance, but drop a complement, How much I was her servant, and she tooke it To'th heart, and ever since hath sought occasion To expresse her love to mee, poore Gentlewoman, You cannot helpe it. Tis one, but of the myriad of Ladies That have been taken— With your tropes and figures, No matter, let her come, it were not civill Sir to deny your selfe. Sheele tire all patience▪ But Lady, be assur'd my heart is dedicate To you, and were all women kind in ballance With your divinest person, their light scale Would kicke the Firmament, or comming downe, Bee lost i'th middle Region of the ayre, Or bee converted to a Cloud to weepe Vpon the earth, for being so much exceld. Where's this Footman? Trot my Ladies Footman, Goe pray my Vncle Sir Walter Cormorant To dine with me to morrow— And doe y'heare? Tis in your way to aske if my Cosin Bulfinch, The Steward of my Land, bee come to Towne, Hee lies in Fleetstreet betweene Hawke and Buzzard. I'th afternoone, remember Sirrah, that You goe to Master Kite, that lives i'th Poultry, And say I shall expect the thousand pound, Was lent him upon morgage: Sir, beseech your Noblenesse excuse mee, The affaires so neerely doe concerne mee, with A Gentleman, (now your guest,) that I presumed It should not bee offence, if I tooke hold Of this occasion, to speake with him. Madame, you need plead no excuse for that, Command your freedome here: Daughters, my Lady Would have some private conference,