Heywood, Thomas / Brome, Richard · published 1634 · first performed or written 1634 (Annals) comedy · King's Men · Globe unassigned nearest T44 Drinking: wine, ale and taverns · 490 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T44: drink, wine, numps, ale, butler, pot, sing, moy, drunk, win.
Sirrah, you have served me well to swinge me thus. You young rogue, you have used me like a dog. When you had put yourself into a dog's skin, I pray how could I help it; but gammer are not you a Witch? if you be, I beg upon my knees you will not hurt me. Stand up my boy, for thou shalt have no harm, Be silent, speak of nothing thou hast seen. And here's a shilling for thee. I'll have none of your money gammer, because you are a Witch: and now she is out of her four legged shape, i'll see if with my two legs I can outrun her. Nay sirrah, though you be young, and I old, you are not so nimble, nor I so lame, but I can overtake you. But Gammer what do you mean to do with me Now you have me? To hug thee, stroke thee, and embrace thee thus, And teach thee twenty thousand pretty things. So thou tell no tales; and boy this night Thou must along with me to a brave feast. Not I gammer indeed-la la, I dare not stay on't late, My father is a fell man, and if I be out long, will both chide and beat me. Not sirrah, then perforce thou shalt along, This bridle helps me still at need, And shall provide us of a steed. Now sirrah, take your shape and be Prepared to hurry him and me. Now look and tell me where's the lad become. The boy is vanished, and I can see nothing in his stead But a white horse ready saddled and bridled. And that's the horse we must bestride, On which both thou and I must ride, Thou boy before and I behind, The earth we tread not, but the wind, For we must progress through the air, And I will bring thee to such fare As thou ne'er sawst, up and away, For now no longer we can stay. Help, help. Thanks my sweet Mall for thy courteous entertainment, thy cream, thy cheesecakes, and every good thing, this, this, & this for all. But why in such haste good Robin? I confess my stay with thee is sweet to me, but I must spur Cut the faster for't, to be at home in the morning, I have yet to Lancaster to ride tonight, and this my bandileer of bottles, to fill tonight, and then half a score mile to ride by currycomb time, i'the morning, or the old man chides Mal. He shall not chide thee, fear it not. Pray Bacchus I may please him with his wine, which will be the hardest thing to do; for since he was last at London and tasted the Divinity of the Mitre, scarce any liquor in Lancashire will go down with him, sure, sure he will never be a Puritan, he holds so well with the Mitre.
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)
Sirah, you have serv'd me well to swindge me thus. You yong rogue, you have vs'd me like a dog. When you had put your selfinto a dogs skin, I pray how c'ud I help it; but gammer are not you a Witch? if you bee, I beg upon my knees you will not hurt me. Stand up my boie, for thou shalt have no harme, Be silent, speake of nothing thou hast seene. And here's a shilling for thee. Ile have none of your money gammer, because you are a Witch: and now she is out of her foure leg'd shape, ile see if with my two legs I can out-run her. Nay sirra, though you be yong, and I old, you are not so nimble, nor I so lame, but I can overtake you. But Gammer what do you meane to do with me Now you have me? To hugge thee, stroke thee, and embrace thee thus, And teach thee twentie thousand prety things. So thou tell no tales; and boy this night Thou must along with me to a brave feast. Not I gammer indeedla, I dare not stay ont late, My father is a fell man, and if I bee out long, will both chide and beat me. Not sirra, then perforce thou shalt along, This bridle helps me still at need, And shall provide us of a steed. Now sirra, take your shape and be Prepar'd to hurrie him and me. Now looke and tell mee wher's the lad become. The boy is vanisht, and I can see nothing in his stead But a white horse redie sadled and bridled. And thats the horse we must bestride, On which both tho and I must ride, Thou boy before and I behinde, The earth we tread not, but the winde, For we must progresse through the aire, And I will bring thee to such fare As thou ne're saw'st, up and away, For now no longer we can stay. Help, help. Thanks my sweet Mall for thy courteous entertainment, thy creame, thy cheese-cakes, and every good thing, this, this, & this for all. But why in such hast good Robin? I confesse my stay with thee is sweet to mee, but I must spur Cutt the faster for't, to be at home in the morning, I have yet to Lancaster to ride to night, and this my of bottles, to fill to night, and then halfe a score mile to ride by currie-combe time, i'the morning, or the old man chides Mal. Hee shall not chide thee, feare it not. Pray Bacchus I may please him with his wine, which will be the hardest thing to do; for since hee was last at London and tasted the Divinitie of the▪ Miter, scarce any liquour in Lancashire will go downe with him, sure, sure he will never be a Puritane, he holds so well with the Miter.