Monsieur Thomas (Father's Own Son) · chunk 25 of 42
Fletcher, John · published 1639 · first performed or written 1615 [1610-c.1616] (Annals) comedy · Unknown · Blackfriars unassigned nearest T3 Sickness, physic and doctors · 496 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T3: doctor, master, cure, disease, pray, physic, physician, mr, sick, lady.
Be patiented sir, be patiented: let me bind it. Oh do not touch it rogue. My head, my head, Oh my head's killed. You must be courting wenches Through keyholes, Captain Hylas, come and be comforted, The skin is scarce broke. O my leg. How do ye sir? Oh maimed for ever with a fall, he's spoiled too, I see his brains. Away with me for God's sake, A Surgeon. Here's a night indeed. A Surgeon. Go run for help. Oh, Run all, and all too little, O cursed beast that hurt him, run, run, fly, He will be dead else. Oh. Good friend go you too. Who pays me for my Music? Pox o'your Music, there's twelve pence for ye. there's two groats again forsooth, I never take above, and rest ye merry. A grease pot gild your fiddle strings: how do you, How is my dear? Why well I thank ye sweet heart, Shall we walk in, for now there's none to trouble us? Are ye so crafty sir? I shall meet with ye, I knew your trick, and I was willing: my Tom, Mine own Tom, now to satisfy thee, welcome, welcome, Welcome my best friend to me, all my dearest. Now ye are my noble Mistress: we lose time sweet. I think they are all gone. All, ye did wisely. And you as craftily. We are well met Mistress. Come, let's go in then lovingly: O my Scarf Tom. I lost it thereabout, find it, and wear it As your poor Mistress favour. I am made now, I see no venture is in no hand: I have it, How now? the door locked, and she in before? Am I so trimmed? One parting word sweet Thomas, Though to save your credit, I discharged your Fiddler, I must not satisfy your folly too sir, youare subtle, but believe it Fox, i'll find ye, The Surgeons will be here straight, roar again boy, And break thy legs for shame, thou wilt be sport else, Good night. She says most true, I must not stay: she has bobbed me, Which if I live, I'll recompense, and shortly, Now for a Ballad to bring me off again. All young men be warned by me, how you do go a wooing. Seek not to climb, for fear ye fall thereby, comes your undoing, & HE cannot go and take no farewell of me, Can he be so unkind? he's but retired Into the Garden or the Orchard: see sirs. He would not ride there certain, those were planted Only for walks I take it. Ride, nay then, Had he horse out? So the Groom delivers Somewhat before the break of day. He's gone, My bestfriends gone Alice? I have lost the noblest,, The truest, and the most man I ere found yet. Indeed sir, he deserves all praise. All sister, All, all, and all too little: O that honesty, That ermine honesty, unspotted ever, That perfect goodness.
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)
Be patient ſir, be patient: let me binde it. Oh doe not touch it rogue. My head, my head, Oh my head's kil'd. You muſt be courting wenches Through key-holes, Captain Hylas, come and be comforted, The skin is ſcarce broke. O my leg. How doe ye ſir? Oh maim'd for ever with a fall, he's ſpoil'd too, I ſee his braines. Away with me for Gods ſake, A Surgeon. Here's a night indeed. A Surgeon. Goe run for helpe. Oh, Run all, and all too little, O curſed beaſt that hurt him, run, run, flye, He will be dead elſe. Oh. Good friend goe you too. Who payes me for my Muſicke? Pox o'your Muſicke, Ther's twelve pence for ye. Ther's two groates againe forſooth, I never take above, and reſt ye merry. A greaſe pot guild your fidle ſtrings: how do you, How is my deere? Why well I thank ye ſweet heart, Shall we walke in, for now ther's none to trouble us? Are ye ſo crafty ſir? I ſhall meet with ye, I knew your tricke, and I was willing: my Tom, Mine owne Tom, now to ſatisfie thee, welcome, welcome, Welcome my beſt friend to me, all my deereſt. Now ye are my noble Miſtreſſe: we looſe time ſweet. I thinke they are all gone. All, ye did wiſely. And you as craftily. We are well met Miſtreſſe. Come, let's goe in then lovingly: O my Skarfe Tom. I loſt it thereabout, finde it, and weare it As your poore Miſtreſſe favour. I am made now, I ſee no venture is in no hand: I have it, How now? the doore lock't, and ſhe in before? Am I ſo trim'd? One parting word ſweet Thomas, Though to ſave your credit, I diſcharg'd your Fidler, I muſt not ſatisfie your folly too ſir, Ye'are ſubtle, but beleeve it Foxe, i'le finde ye, The Surgeons will be here ſtrait, rore againe boy, And breake thy legs for ſhame, thou wilt be ſport elſe, Good night. She ſaies moſt true, I muſt not ſtay: ſhe has bobd me, Which if I live, I'le recompence, and ſhortly, Now for a Ballad to bring me off againe. All yong men be warn'd by me, how you do goe a wooing. Seek not to climb, for feare ye fall thereby, comes your undoing, & HE cannot goe and take no farewell of me, Can he be ſo vnkinde? he's but retir'd Into the Garden or the Orchard: ſee ſirs. He would not ride there certain, thoſe were planted Onely for walkes I take it. Ride, nay then, Had he horſe out? So the Groome delivers Somewhat before the breake of day. He's gone, My beſtfriends gone Alice? I have loſt the nobleſt,, The trueſt, and the moſt man I ere found yet. Inded ſir, he deſerves all praiſe. All ſiſter, All, all, and all too little: O that honeſty, That ermine honeſty, unſpotted ever, That perfect goodneſſe.