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 · 495 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T3: doctor, master, cure, disease, pray, physic, physician, mr, sick, lady.
Doctor! art a Parisian, a Paduan, or a Leaden Doctor? How many and be true to us hast thou killed the last Spring, will it puzzle thy arithmetic, my precious Rectifier of nature, the wrong way,— faith Thou must excuse me Jack that I cannot condole With thee, by this whey beard of Esculapius, I dare Not endanger myself with so much melancholy lest I fall into a relapse— whom have we here? 'tis reported that Master Fowler is sick and keeps his chamber, I hope he's within. Noble Sir. Fair Lady. How fare you Sir? The better to see you here. Upon the entrance of this Gentlewoman, I find your grief much altered. Upon mine? Yes, and by that I dare presume to say you are the cause of his distemper. I Sir? A cunning Doctor For I observed so soon as his searching eye had fastened on her, his labouring pulse that through his Fever did, before stick hard, and frequent now exceeds in both these differences and this Galen himself found true upon a woman, that had doted upon a Fencer. I? she did long for other bout then, Give us leave pray. A very pretty fellow, Well skilled i'th' pulse. You know my disease too d'ee not? will not my complexion give you the hint on't You are not very well. How Sir? By your favour you will come to't. To what? To a burning Fever— is there not one woman in the world. I think there is, and too much of that, what then what conclude you? Nothing but Syrup of Violet, would comfort you going to bed. Violet? Has given't you. It does me good Lady to feel you by— the hand. Would it were in my power to recover you. The Doctor I thank him has taken pains with me, but he says— nothing will do me good. Nothing? But that, which is another sickness to reveal. Pray Sir acquaint me. I know you love me. I have a great mind and 'twere but for two or 3. Minutes, to have a maid warm my bed. That may be done. With her body— else 'twill do me no good the Doctor says— to put life in some of my limbs, a little virgin warmth would do't. You have a burning Fever. But now and then I have such cold fits again— and 'tis the doctor's opinion— a very learned man. A learned Pander. He's at it. Doctor. Again passionate. Why, I may love her name without offence, to you, why did he waken my remembrance I had forgotten her. Think upon her scorn then. I ha' done, and till I hear her name again I will throw this dulness off. let's choose another subject How closely they consult, the Doctor is in a fit of counsel I suspect some juggling— he comes of, I'll gauge a limb this fellow's an impostor. Is there not much danger in him?
nodes 883–938 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 19 of 33 in this edition
Length
495 words · 635 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T3 — Sickness, physic and doctorscross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.818 (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)
Doctor! art a Parisian, a Paduan, or a Leaden Doctor? How many and be true to vs hast thou kild the last Spring, will it puzzel thy arithmeticke, my pretious Rectifier of nature, the wrong way, — faith Thou must excuse me Iacke that I cannot condole With thee, by this whay beard of Eſlapius, I dare Not endanger my selfe with so much mellancholly Least I fall into a relapse — whom haue wee heere? T'is reported that Master Fowler is sick and keepes his chamber, I hope hee's within. Noble Sir. Fayre Lady. How fare you Sir? The better to see you heere. Vpon the entrance of this Gentlewoman, I finde your griefe much altered. Vpon mine? Yes, and by that I dare presume to say you are the cause of his distemper. I Sir? A cunning Doctor For I obserud so soone as his searching eye had fastned on her, his labouring pulse that through his Feauor did, before sticke hard, and frequent now exceeds in both these differences and this Gallen himselfe found true vpon a woman, that had doted vppon a Fencer. I? Shee did long for tother bout then, Giue vs leaue pray. A very pretty fellow, Well skild i'th pulse. You know my disease too dee not? will not my complexion giue you the hint on't You are not very well. How Sir? By your fauour you will come too't. To what? To a burning Feauor — is there not one woman in the world. I thinke there is, and too much of that, what then what conclude you? Nothing but Sirrup of Violet, would comfort you going to bed. Violet? Has giuen't you. It does me good Lady to feele you by — the hand. Would it were in my power to recouer you. The Doctor I thanke him has taken paines with me, but he sayes — nothing will doe me good. Nothing? But that, which is another sicknesse to reueale. Pray Sir acquaint me. I know you loue me. I haue a great mind and 'twere but for two or 3. Minutes, to haue a maide warme my bed. That may be done. With her body—else t'will doe me no good the Doctor sayes — to put life in some of my limbes, a little virgin warm'th wo'd doo't. You haue a burning Feauor. But now and then I haue such cold fits againe — and t'is the Doctors opinion — a very learned man. A learned Pandor. He's at it. Doctor. Againe passionate. Why, I may loue her name without offence, to you, why did hee waken my remembrance I had forgotten her. Thinke vpon her scorne then. I ha done, and till I heare her name agen I will throw this dulnesse off. Lets choose another subiect How closely they consult, the Doctor is in a fit of counsell I suspect some iugling — hee comes of, Ile gage a limbe this fellowe's an impostor. Is there not much danger in him?