The Contention for Honor and Riches · chunk 3 of 11
Shirley, James · published 1633 · first performed or written 1631 [c.1625-1632; adapted 1658] (Annals) moral unassigned nearest T16 Gallantry: ladies, lordships and complim · 532 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T16: lady, madam, gentleman, lordship, ladies, honour, mistress, sweet, court, servant.
he's dreaming of his horses. Gee, sweet Lady, I am all to be mired in your beauty, the horses of my imagination are foundered in the highway of your perfections, for I am deep in love with your Ladyship, though I do not wear such fine clothes as Master Gettings here, and so much out of fashion: for if I commend my doublet, I must speak fustian, yet my heart is cut and flashed, and I defy any man that has a better stomach to you in the way of Matrimony. No comparison, Master Clod. Let him be odious, that names comparison, for my part, I scorn 'em all and the degrees. Y'are very positive. Dost thou positive me? And my Mistress were not here, thou shouldest find Clod is made of another guess mould, than to endure thy affronts. And you quarrel, I am gone. Nay, nay, sweet Lady we shall be friends again. I hope it won't stretch to a duel. Duell? You won't provoke me, Clod, Will you? if you do, Clod. I will provoke any man living in the way of love. How? He that shall go a-wooing to my Mistress, I will provoke him, and he were my father. Y'are a dirty fellow, Clod, and if I had met thee that year I was Scavenger, I would have had thee carted. Me carted, Cart thy Bawds, there be enough within the walls, dost tell me of a Scavenger? a fart for thy office, I am a better man in the country than the Constable himself, and do tell thee to thy face, though I am plain Clod, I care not a beanstalk for the best What lack you on you all, no not the next day after Simon and Jude; when you go a feasting to Westminster with you Gallyfoist and your potguns, to the very terror of the Papet-whales, when you land in shoals, and make the understanders in Cheapside, wonder to see ships swim upon men's shoulders, when the fencer's flourish, and make the king's liege people fall down and Worship the Devil and Saint Dunstan, when your whifflers are hanged in chains, and Hercules' Club spits fire about the Pageants, though the poor children catch cold, that show like painted cloth, and are only kept alive with sugar plums, with whom, when the word is given, you march to Guildhall, with every man his spoon in his pocket, where you look upon the Giants, and feed like Sarazens, till you have no stomach to Paul's in the afternoon: I have seen your Processions, and heard your Lions and Camels make speeches, in stead of Grace before and after dinner: I have heard songs too, or something like 'em: but the Porters have had the burden, who were kept sober at the City charge, two days before, to keep time and tune with their feet, for brag what you will of your charge, all your pomp lies upon their back. So, so. Must this day's pride so blow you up, that a countryman's tale may not be heard? That day's pride? Or what is't make you Gambol so? Why, anger has made you witty Countryman.
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)
Hee's dreaming of his horses. Gee, sweete Lady, I am all to be mired in your beauty, the horses of my imagination are foundred in the high-way of your perfections, for I am deepe in love with your Lady-ship, though I doe not weare such fine clothes as Master Gettings here, and so much out of fashion: for if I commend my doublet, I must speake sustian, yet my heart is cut and flash'd, and I defie any man that has a better stomack to youin the way of Matrimony. No comparison, Master Clod. Let him be odious, that names comparison, for my part, I soorne 'em all and the degrees. Y'are very positive. Dost thou positive me? And my Mistresse were not here, thou shouldest find Clod is made of an other gesse mold, then to endure thy affronts. And you quarrell, I am gone. Nay, nay, sweet Lady we shall be friends agen. I hope it wonot stretch to a duell. Duell? You wonot provoke me, Clod, Will you? if you doe, Clod. I will provoke any man living in the way of love. How? He that shall goe a wooing to my Mistris, I will provoke him, and he were my father. Y'are a durty fellow, Clod, and if I had met thee that yeere I was Scavenger, I would have had thee carted. Mee carted, Cart thy Bawdes, there bee enow within the walls, do'st tell me of a Scavenger? a fart for thy office, I am a better man in the country then the Constable himselfe, and doe tell thee to thy face, though I am plaine Clod, I care not a beanestalke for the best What lacke you on you all, no not the next day after Simon and Jude; when you goe a seasting to Westminster with you Gllyoist and your pot-guns, to the very terror of the Papet-whales, when you land in sholes, and make the understanders in Cheapside, wonder to see ships swimme upon mens shoulders, when the Fencers flourish, and make the Kings liege people fall downe and Worship the Devill and Saint Dustan, when your whifflers are hangd in chaines, and Hercules Club spit fire about the Pageans, though the poore children catch cold▪ that shew like painted cloth, and are onely kept alive with sugar plummes, with whom, when the word is given, you march to Guild-hall, with every man his spoone in his pocket, where you looke upon the Giants, and feed like Sarazens, till you have no stomacke to Pauls in the afternoone: I have seene your Processions, and heard your Lions and Camels make speeches, in stead of Grace before and after dinner: I have heard songs too, or something like e'm: but the Porters have had the burden, who were kept sober at the City charge, two dayes before, to keepe time and tune with their feet, for bragge what you will of your charge, all your pompe lies upon their backe. So, so. Must this dayes pride so blow you up, that a Country-mans tale may not be heard? That dayes pride? Or what ist make you Gamboll so? Why, anger ha's made you witty Country-man.