Monsieur Thomas (Father's Own Son) · chunk 16 of 42
Fletcher, John · published 1639 · first performed or written 1615 [1610-c.1616] (Annals) comedy · Unknown · Blackfriars T3 Sickness, physic and doctors typicality 0.86 · 497 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T3: doctor, master, cure, disease, pray, physic, physician, mr, sick, lady.
And can you tell me How old I am then? there's my hand, pray show me How many broken shins within this two year. Who would be thus in fetters, good master Doctor, And you dear Doctor, and the third sweet Doctor And precious master Apothecary, I do pray ye To give me leave to live a little longer, Ye stand before me like my blacks. 'Tis dangerous, For now his fancy turns too. By your leave Gentlemen: And pray ye your leave a while too, I have something Of secret to imparr unto the patiented. Withal our hearts. I marry such a Physic May chance to find the humour: be not long Lady For we must minister within this half hour. You shall not stay for me. Would you were all rotten That ye might only intent one another's itches: Or would the Gentlemen with one consent Would drink small Beer but seven year, and abolish That wildfire of the blood, unsatiate wenching That your too Indieses, springs and falls might fail ye What torments these intruders into bodies. How do you worthy Sir? Bless me, what beams Flew from these angel eyes: O what a misery What a most studied torment t is to me now To be an honest man: dare ye sit by me? Yes; and do more than that too: comfort ye I see ye have need. You are a fair Physician: You bring no bitterness gilded over, to gull us No danger in your looks, yet there my death lies. I would be sorry sir, my charity And my good wishes for your health should merit So stubborn a construction: will it please ye To taste a little of this Cordial For this I think must cure ye. Of which Lady? Sure she has found my grief? why do you blush so? Do you not understand? of this, this Cordial. Of my afflicted heart: she is gone for ever. What heaven ye have brought me Lady? Do not wonder: For 'tis not impudence, nor want of honour Makes me do this: but love to save your life sir Your life, too excellent to lose in wishes Love, virtuous love. A virtuous blessing crown ye O goodly sweet, can there be so much charity So noble a compassion in that heart That's filled up with another's fair affections? Can mercy drop from those eyes. Can miracles be wrought upon a dead man, When all the power ye have, and perfect object Lies in another's light: and his deserves it? Do not despair: nor do not think to boldly I dare abuse my promise, 'twas your friends And so fast tied, I thought no time could ruin: But so much has your danger, and that spell The powerful name of friend, prevailed above him To whom I ever own obedience, That here I am, by his command to cure ye, Nay more for ever, by his full resignment And willingly I ratify it.
nodes 1060–1126 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 16 of 42 in this edition
Length
497 words · 612 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T3 — Sickness, physic and doctorscross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.857 (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)
And can you tell me How old I am then? there's my hand, pray ſhew me How many broken ſhins within this two yeare. Who would be thus in fetters, good maſter Doctor, And you deere Doctor, and the third ſweet Doctor And pretious maſter Apothecary, I doe pray ye To give me leave to live a little longer, Ye ſtand before me like my blacks. 'Tis dangerous, For now his fancy turnes too. By your leave Gentlemen: And pray ye your leave a while too, I have ſomething Of ſecret to imparr unto the patient. Withall our hearts. I mary ſuch a Phyſicke May chance to find the humour: be not long Lady For we muſt miniſter within this halfe houre. You ſhall not ſtay for me. Would you were all rotten That ye might only intend one anothers itches: Or would the Gentlemen with one conſent Would drinke ſmall Beere but ſeven yeare, and aboliſh That wildfire of the bloud, unſatiate wenching That your too Indies, ſprings and fals might faile ye What torments theſe intruders into bodies. How do you worthy Sir? Bleſſe me, what beames Flew from theſe angell eyes: O what a miſery What a moſt ſtuddied torment tis to me now To be an honeſt man: dare ye ſit by me? Yes; and do more then that too: comfort ye I ſee ye have need. You are a faire Phyſitian: You bring no bitterneſſe gilt ore, to gull us No danger in your lookes, yet there my death lyes. I would be ſorry ſir, my charity And my good wiſhes for your health ſhould merit So ſtubborn a conſtruction: will it pleaſe ye To taſte a little of this Cordiall For this I thinke muſt cure ye. Of which Lady? Sure ſhe has found my griefe? why do you bluſh ſo? Do you not underſtand? of this, this Cordiall. Of my afflicted heart: ſhe is gon for ever. What heaven ye have brought me Lady? Do not wonder: For tis not impudence, nor want of honour Makes me do this: but love to ſave your life ſir Your life, too excellent to looſe in wiſhes Love, virtuous love. A vertuous bleſſing crowne ye O goodly ſweet, can there be ſo much charity So noble a compaſſion in that heart That's filled up with anothers faire affections? Can mercy drop from thoſe eyes. Can miracles be wrought upon a dead man, When all the power ye have, and perfect object Lyes in anothers light: and his deſerves it? Do not diſpaire: nor do not thinke to boldly I dare abuſe my promiſe, t'was your friends And ſo faſt tyde, I thought no time could ruine: But ſo much has your danger, and that ſpell The powerfull name of friend, prevail'd above him To whom I ever owe obedience, That here I am, by his command to cure ye, Nay more for ever, by his full reſignement And willingly I ratefie it.