Shirley, James · published 1633 · first performed or written 1628 [licensed for stage, Oct 3] (Annals) comedy · Queen Henrietta Maria's Men · Phoenix/Cockpit T3 Sickness, physic and doctors typicality 0.82 · 474 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T3: doctor, master, cure, disease, pray, physic, physician, mr, sick, lady.
If they send, All they receive from us, accuse them not We have our hearts again. And I'll have mine, I will, I ha' not yet, here wants a guest Invite him home again, Why should not I Be as coy as she, and with as much neglect Throw her behind my thoughts, instruct me with Witty revenge, and thou that see me toss This shuttlecock with as much pride, and when I'm sated with this sport, let fall this vanity Into as low disdain, Pshaw. Nobly resolved. Come to a Tavern, drench the memory Of these poor thoughts. Let's seek out Master Fowler and Manly. And warmed with sack, we'll try Who can make satyrs best. A match, let's to 'em. And thou dost not play the Doctor handsomely, I'll set the College of Physicians upon thee for practising without a licence. Can you be sick? I would but counterfeit. So must I the Physician. I have known a spruce Empiric hath given his patient 2 or 3. stools with the bare repetition of crude words, and knotty sentences, which have come from him like a Phlegm, which besides the operation in the hearers, who admire him for't, while he beats like a drum, at their barrel head, and turns their brains like beer, does him the benefit to scour his own dirty maw, whose dregs else would putrefy; and infest his cheeks worse than a gangrene. Are you sure she will visit you? As sure as I am well, for and I were sick and would sleep, I would rather, take a nap o'th' ridge of Aetna, and thee fall of deafening Nilus, then endure the visitation, of any of their tribe— one knocks, my pillow and lay my head in the aching posture. 'tis Aymwell and Clare. Where's my witty Bacchanalian, how now? what means this Apothecary's shop about thee, art Physical? Sick, sick. Didst not look in a glass today? how scurvily this nightcap shows upon thee. What's the disease? A fever Sir. Hang fevers, let's to the Tavern, and inflame ourselves, with lusty wine, suck in the spirit of Sack, till we be Delphic and prophecy my bully rook. Alas. Alas, is that the disease, Drench her, drench her in sack, sick for a lass, do not fool thyself beyond the cure of Bedlam, be wise and well again. You are merry, it seems you have won the Lady. What Lady? the Lady i'th' Lobster, I was half sick for foolish thing called a woman, a toy took me i'th' head, and had like to have taken away my heart too but I ha' recovered, do not trust thy body with a Physician, he'll make thy foolish bones go without flesh in a fortnight, and thy soul walk without a body a seven night after. These are no Doctors?
nodes 844–882 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 18 of 33 in this edition
Length
474 words · 646 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T3 — Sickness, physic and doctorscross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.816 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
seed 43: T3 · seed 44: T4 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
If they send, All they receiue from vs, accuse them not We haue our hearts againe. And Ile haue mine, I will, I ha not yet, here wants a guest Inuite him home againe, Why should not I Be as coy as shee, and with as much neglect Throw her behind my thoughts, instruct me with Witty reuenge, and thou that see me tosse This shuttlecocke with as much pride, and when I'me sated with this sport, let fall this vanity Into as low disdaine, pshew. Nobly resolu'd. Come to a Tauerne, drench the memory Of these poore thoughts. Let's seeke out Master Fowler and Manly. And warm'd with sacke, wee'l try Who can make Satyres best. A match, lets to 'em. And thou dost not play the Doctor handsomely, Il'e set the Colledge of Phisitians vpon thee for practising without a licence. Can you bee sicke? I would but counterfeit. So must I the Phisitian. I haue knowne a spruse Empericke hath given his patient 2 or 3. stooles with the bare repetition of crude wordes, and knotty sentences, which haue come from him like a Phlegme, which besides the operation in the hearers, who admire him for't, while he beates like a drumme, at their barrell head, and turnes their braines like beere, does him the benefit to scowre his owne durty maw, whose dregs else would putrifie; and infest his cheekes worse then a gangreene. Are you sure shee will visit you? As sure as I am well, for and I were sicke and would sleepe, I would rather, take a nap o'th ridge of Etna, and thee fall of deafning Nilus, then indure the visitation, of any of their tribe — one knockes, my pillow and lay my head in the aking posture. Tis Aymwell and Clare. Where's my witty Bacchanalian, how now? what meanes this Apothecaries shop about thee, art Physicall? Sicke, sicke. Didst not looke in a glasse to day? how scuruely this nightcap shewes vpon thee. What's the disease? A feauer Sir. Hang feauers, let's to the Tauerne, and inflame our selues, with lusty wine, sucke in the spirit of Sacke, till wee bee Delphicke and prophecie my bully rooke. Alas. Alasse, is that the disease, Drench her, drench her in sack, sicke for a lasse, doe not foole thy selfe beyond the cure of Bedlam, be wise and well agen. You are merry, it seemes you haue won the Lady. What Lady? the Lady ith'Lobster, I was halfe sicke for foolish thing called a woman, a toy tooke mee i'th head, and had like to haue taken away my heart too but I ha recouered, doe not trust thy body with a Phisitian, heele make thy foolish bones goe without flesh in a fortnight, and thy soule walke without a body a seauen night after. These are no Doctors?