Randolph, Thomas · published 1632 · first performed or written 1632 [Mar 20] (Annals) comedy · before the 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.
Yield, or I see a breakfast for the crows. Death to my lungs, I spit upon thy fame. Then with my steel I whip thy rash contempt. Brawling you mastiffs.— Keep the peace at home And join your forces 'gainst the common foe. You shan't be angry: by this kiss you sha' not. I will, unless you swear again. You sha'not. Ah, Ballio! Age has made me dry as tinder, And I have taken fire. I burn, I burn. The spark raked up in ashes is broke forth, And will consume me, Ballio. What's the matter? Love, cruel love. I must enjoy that lady whatever price it cost me. Your son's mistress? Son, or not son.— Let this entreat, and this. This will persuade. I must remove your son, His fury else will surely stand twixt us And our designs.— Old lecher, I will fit you, And geld your bags for this. You shall be milked, Emptied, and pumped. Sponge, we will squeeze you sponge, And send you to suck more.— Invincible Mars. What says the governor of our younger years? You have worn this plot of Mars too stale already. O shift yourself into all shapes of love. Women are taken with variety. What think you of Oberon the king of Fairies? I know 'twill strike her fancy. Business calls. Drink on, for our return shall sudden be. PHryne, here is a boy of wealth, my girl, The golden bull that got this golden calf Deeply in love with thee. Let me alone, I'll fleece him.— Melt him, Phryne, melt him: We must not leave this mine till we have found The largeness of the vein.— Suck like an horseleech. Come, Sir, and boldly enter: I have choked out An easy path to tread in; 'twill direct you To your wished journeys end, and lodge you safe In her soft arms. Thou art my better Angel. Wilt thou eat gold, drink gold, lie in gold, I have it for thee. Old men are twice children, And so was I, but I am grown again Up to right man.— Thou shalt be my Tutor too. Is there no stools, or tables? What to do? I would vault over them, to show the strength And courage of my back. Strike boldly in, Sir. Save you, Gentlemen. If you want gold, here's for you. Give me some wine: Mistress, a health to you: Pledge me, and spice the cup with these and these. Thou shalt have better gowns. A brave old boy. There's metal in him. I will sing thy praise In lines heroic. I will tune my lyre, And chant an ode that shall eternize thee. Of what a sweet aspect! how lovely looked Is this fine Gentleman!— I hope you know It is in Thebes the custom to salute Fair ladies with a kiss.— She is enamoured. Sure I am younger than I thought myself. Fair Lady, health and wealth attend thee.
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)
Yeeld, or I see a breakfast for the crows. Death to my lungs, I spit upon thy fame. Then with my steel I whip thy rash contempt. Brawling you mastives. —Keep the peace at home And joyn your forces 'gainst the common foe. You sha'nt be angry: by this kisse you sha' not. I will, unlesse you swear again. You sha'not. Ah, Ballio! Age has made me dry as tinder, And I have taken fire. I burn, I burn. The spark rak'd up in ashes is broke forth, And will consume me, Ballio. What's the matter? Love, cruel love. I must enjoy that lady What ever price it cost me. Your sonnes mistresse? Sonne, or not sonne. —Let this intreat, and this. This will perswade. I must remove your sonne, His fury else will surely stand 'twixt us And our designes. —Old letcher, I will fit you, And geld your bags for this. You shall be milk'd, Emptied, and pumpt. Spunge, we will squeeze you spunge, And send you to suck more.—Invincible Mars. What sayes the governour of our younger yeares? You have worn this plot of Mars too stale already. O shift your self into all shapes of love. Women are taken with varietie. What think you of Oberon the king of Fayries? I know 'twill strike her fancie. Businesse calls. Drink on, for our return shall sudden be. PHryne, here is a boy of wealth, my girle, The golden bull that got this golden calf Deeply in love with thee. Let me alone, I'le fleece him.— Melt him, Phryne, melt him: We must not leave this mine till we have found The largenesse of the vein. —Suck like an horse-leach. Come, Sir, and boldly enter: I have choak't out An easie path to tread in; 'twill direct you To your wished journeys end, and lodge you safe In her soft arms. Thou art my better Angel. Wilt thou eat gold, drink gold, lie in gold, I have it for thee. Old men are twice children, And so was I, but I am grown again Up to right man. —Thou shalt be my Tutour too. Is there no stools, or tables? What to doe? I would vault over them, to shew the strength And courage of my back. Strike boldly in, Sir. Save you, Gentlemen. If you want gold, here's for you. Give me some wine: Mistresse, a health to you: Pledge me, and spice the cup with these and these. Thou shalt have better gowns. A brave old boy. There's mettall in him. I will sing thy praise In lines heroick. I will tune my lyre, And chaunt an ode that shall eternize thee. Of what a sweet aspect! how lovely look'd Is this fine Gentleman! —I hope you know It is in Thebes the custome to salute Fair ladies with a kisse. — She is enamour'd. Sure I am younger then I thought my self. Fair Lady, health and wealth attend thee.