Heywood, Thomas · published 1633 · first performed or written c.1627 (Annals) tragicomedy · Lady Elizabeth's Men · Phoenix/Cockpit unassigned nearest T44 Drinking: wine, ale and taverns · 499 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T44: drink, wine, numps, ale, butler, pot, sing, moy, drunk, win.
Prank it, do, Waste, Riot, and Consume, Misspend your Hours In drunken Surfeits, lose your days in sleep, And burn the nights in Revels, Drink and Drab, Keep Christmas all year long, and blot lean Lent Out of the Calendar; all that mass of wealth Got by my Master's sweat and thirsty care, Havoc in prodigal uses; Make all fly, pour't down your oily throats, or send it smoking Out at the tops of chimneys: At his departure, Was it the old man's charge to have his windows Glister all night with Stars? his modest House Turned to a common Stews? his Beds to palates Of Lusts and Prostitutions? his buttery hatch Now made more common than a taverns bar, His Stools that welcomed none but civil guests, Now only free for Panders, Whores and Bawds, Strumpets, and such. I suffer thee too long, What is to me thy country, or to thee The pleasure of our City? thou hast Cows, Cattle, and Beeves to feed, Oues and Boves, These that I keep, and in this pasture graze, Are dainty damosellas, bonny Girls; If thou be'st borne to Hedge, Ditch, Thrash and Plough And I to Revel, Banquet and carouse; Thou peasant, to the Spade and Pickaxe, I The Battoon and stiletto think it only Thy ill, my good, our several lots are cast, And both must be contented. But when both our services are questioned. Look thou to one, My answer is provided. Farewell Musk-Cat. adieu good Cheese and onions, stuff thy guts With Speck and Barley-pudding for digestion, Drink Whig and sour Milk, whilst I rinse my Throat, With Bordeaux and Canarie. What was he? A Spy Sir, One of their Hinds o'th' country, that came prying To see what dainty fare our kitchen yields, What Guests we harbour, and what rule we keep, And threats to tell the old man when he comes; I think I sent him packing. It was well done. A whoreson-Jack-an-apes, a base Baboon, To insinuate in our secrets. Let such keep, the Country where their charge is. So I said Sir. And visit us when we command them thence, Not search into our counsels. 'Twere not fit. Who in my father's absence should command, Save I his only son? It is but justice. For am not I now Lord? Dominus fac totum. And am not I your Steward? Well remembered, This night I have a purpose to be Merry, jovial and Frolic, how doth our cash hold out? The bag's still heavy. Then my heart's still light. I can assure you, yet 'tis pretty deep, Though scarce a mile to th' bottom. Let me have to Supper, Let me see, a Duck— Sweet Rogue. A Capon— Geld the Rascal. Then a Turkey— Now spit him for an Infidel. Greene Plover, Snite, Partridge, Lark, Cock, and pheasant. ne'er a widgeon? Yes, wait thyself at Table. Where I hope yourself will not be absent. Nor my friends. we'll have them then in plenty.
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)
Prancke it, doe, Waste, Ryot, and Consume, Mispend your Howres In drunken Surfets, lose your dayes in sleepe, And burne the nights in Reuells, Drinke and Drab, Keepe Christmasse all yeere long, and blot leane Lent Out of the Calender; all that masse of wealth Got by my Masters sweat and thristy care, Hauocke in prodigall vses; Make all flie, Powr't downe your oylie throats, or send it smoaking Out at the tops of chimnies: At his departure, Was it the old mans charge to haue his windowes Glister all night with Starres? his modest House Turn'd to a common Stewes? his Beds to pallats Of Lusts and Prostitutions? his Buttrey hatch Now made more common then a Tauernes barre, His Stooles that welcom'd none but ciuill guests, Now onely free for Pandars, Whores and Bawdes, Strumpets, and such. I suffer thee too long, What is to me thy countrey, or to thee The pleasure of our Citie? thou hast Cowes, Cattell, and Beeues to feed, Oues and Boues, These that I keepe, and in this pasture graze, Are dainty Damosellaes, bonny Girles; If thou be'st borne to Hedge, Ditch, Thrash and Plough And I to Reuell, Banquet and Carrowe; Thou Pessant, to the Spade and Pickaxe, I The Battoone and Steeletto thinke it onely Thy ill, my good, our seuerall lots are cast, And both must be contented. But when both our seruices are questioned. Looke thou to one, My answere is prouided. Farewell Musk-Cat. Adue good Cheese and Oynons, stuffe thy guts With Specke and Barley-pudding for disgestion, Drinke Whig and sowre Milke, whilest I rince my Throat, With Burdeaux and Caarie. What was hee? A Spie Sir, One of their Hindes oth' countrey, that came prying To see what dainty fare our kitchin yeelds, What Guests we harbour, and what rule we keepe, And threats to tell the old man when he comes; I thinke I sent him packing. It was well done. A whoreson-Iack-an-apes, a base Baboone, To insinuate in our secrets. Let such keepe, the Countrey where their charge is. So I said Sir. And visit vs when we command them thence, Not search into our counsels. 'Twere not fit. Who in my fathers absence should command, Saue I his only sonne? It is but iustice. For am not I now Lord? Dominus fac totum. And am not I your Steward? Well remembred, This night I haue a purpose to bee Merry, Iouiall and Frollicke, how doth our cash hold out? The bag's still heauy. Then my heart's still light. I can assure you, yet tis pritty deepe, Tho scarce a mile to th' bottome. Let mee haue to Supper, Let mee see, a Ducke— Sweet Rogue. A Capon— Geld the Rascall. Then a Turkey— Now spit him for an Infidell. Greene Plouer, Snite, Partridge, Larke, Cocke, and Phessant. Nere a Widgin? Yes, wait thy selfe at Table. Where I hope your selfe will not be absent. Nor my friends. Weele haue them then in plenty.