Edwards, Richard · published 1571 · first performed or written 1564 [1564-1568] (Annals) comedy · Children of the Chapel (first) (Oxford's Boys) · before the Court unassigned nearest T44 Drinking: wine, ale and taverns · 468 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T44: drink, wine, numps, ale, butler, pot, sing, moy, drunk, win.
It may be wholesome, but it is vengeance sour. It scours the better, sir boy, give me my razor, Here at hand sir. God's aims, 'tis a chopping knife, 'tis no Raysour. It is a Raysour and that a very good one, It came lately from Palarrime, it cost me twenty crowns alone Your eyes dassell after your washing, these spectacles put on? Now view this Raysour, tell me, is it not a good one? They be gay Barnikels, yet I see never the better. In deed, they be a young sight, and that is the matter, But I warrant you, this Raysour is very easy. Go too then, since you begun, do as please ye. Hold up father Grim. O your Raysour doth hurt my lip. Not, it scrapeth of a pimpell, to ease you of the pip, I have done now, how say you? are you not well? Chamlighter than ich was, the truth to tell. Will you sing after your shaving? Mass content, but Ihill be polled first or I sing. Nay that shall not need, you are pould near enough for this time. Go to then lustyly, I will sing in my man's voice, Chave a troubling base buss. You are like to bear the bob, for we will give it, Set out your bussing base, and we will quiddell upon it. Too nidden, and too nidden. Too nidden, and toodle toadle do nidden, Is not Grim the collier most finely shaven. Why my fellows think iche am a cow, that you make such tooyin Nay by'r lady, you are no cow by your singing, Yet your wife told me you were an Ox. Did she so? 'tis a peslens queen she is full of such mocks. But go to, let us sing out our song merely. The Song at the shaving of the collier. Such Barber's God sand you at all times of need. That can dress you finely, and make such quick speed. Your face like an Incorne, now shineth so gay, That I with your Nostrils of force must needs play, With too nidden, and too nidden. With too nidden, and todle todle do nidden, Is not Grim the collier most finely shaven. With shaving you shine like a pestle of Pork: Here is the trimmest Hogs flesh from London to York. It would be trim Baken to hang up a while, To play with this Hogline, of force I must smile, With too nidden, and too nidden With too nidden, and todle etc. Your shaving doth please me, I am now your debtor. Your wife now will buss you, because you are sweater. Near would I be poled, as near as cham shaven. Then out of your jerkin needs must you be shaken. With too nidden, and too nidden, etc.
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)
It may be holsome, but it is vengeaunce sower. It scours the better, syr boy, geue me my raysur, Here at hand syr. Gods aymes, tis a chopping knyfe, tis no Raysour. It is a Raysour and that a very good one, It came lately from Palarrime, it coste mée .xx. crownes alone Your eyes dassell after your washing, these spectacles put on? Now vew this Raysour, tell me, is it not a good one? They be gay Barnikels, yet I sée neuer the better. In déede, they be a young sight, and that is the matter, But I warrant you, this Raysour is very easie. Go too then, since you begonne, doo as please ye. Holde vp father Grimme. O your Raysour doth hurt my lippe. No, it scrapeth of a pimpell, to ease you of the Pippe, I haue done now, how say you? are you not well? Cham lighter then ich was, the truth to tell. Will you singe after your shauinge? Mas content, but chill be polde first or I singe. Nay that shall not néede, you are pould neare enough for this time. Go to then lustyly, I wyll singe in my mans voyce, Chaue a troublinge base busse. You are like to beare the bobbe, for wée wyll geue it, Set out your bussyng base, and wée wyll quiddell vpon it. Too nidden, and too nidden. Too nidden, and oodle toadle doo ndden, Is not Grimme the Colier most finely shauen. Why my fellowes thinke iche am a cowe, that you make such tooyin Nay byr lady, you are no cow by your singing, Yet your wyfe tolde me you were an Oxe. Did she so? tis a peslens quene she is full of such mockes▪ But go to, let vs singe out our songe merely. The Songe at the shauing of the Colier. ¶Suche Barbers God send you at all times of néede. That can dresse you finely, and make such quicke spéede. Your face like an Incorne, now shineth so gay, That I with your Nostrels of force must néedes play, With too nidden, and too nidden. With too nidden, and todle todle doo nidden, Is not Grimme the Colier most finely shauen. With shauing you shine lyke a pestle of Porke: Here is the trimmest Hogges flesh from London to Yor ▪ It woulde be trimme Baken to hange vp a while, To play with this Hogline, of force I must smyle, With too nidden, and too nidden With too nidden, and todle &c. Your shauing doth please me, I am now your debter. Your wife now wyll busse you, because you are sweate ▪ Neare would I be poled, as neare as cham shauen. Then out of your Ierkin néedes must you be shaken▪ With too nidden, and too nidden, &c.