Davenport, Robert · published 1639 · first performed or written 1625 [c.1624-1639] (Annals) comedy · Queen Henrietta Maria's Men (?); Lady Elizabeth's Men (?) T15 Friars and holy orders in plot typicality 0.82 · 511 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T15: friar, lord, holy, friars, robin, peggy, lacie, angelo, love, nun.
Two Friars shut from their Covents, wanting harbour, Begged lodging with such importunity They would not be denied; at length I pitied them, And yet to make them sure, I locked them fast Up in the Straw-loft, and see, here's the Key, theyare fast enough for starting. Dost thou know them? friar Bernard, and friar Iohn. friar Bernard, and friar Iohn? th'only good Lads That I desired to meet with; I beshrew thee They had no better welcome; go, unlock, Entreat them hither, we will have one cup To th'health of all their Covent. Call them up? what time shall we to bed then? Time enough, early betimes, nay, quick Nan, friar Iohn there? The bonniest Lad e'er wore portace in a string, Or mumbled Mass, or Matins; I but wished And see, 'tis come to pass; the other to, Though he be strict of life, yet will sometimes Be merry, if he like his company; But my kind honest baldpate, Friar Jack, I shall be glad to see him; welcome faith, With reverence, Father, to your gravity, Be not offended if Friar Iohn and I Be, not exceeding compass, a little merry, And play with the Pot; fill some in. To your bellies pots and all. Excess, my Host, can purchase no excuse, But modest mirth, transgressing not his true And lawful bounds, is good and commendable; Now give us leave to bid you welcome home. Thanks good Friar Bernard, Now as I live, would I had some good cheer, No better than I would pay for; but she tells me There's nothing to be compassed. The worse luck; and yet I smell a supper. Not so much as a cantle of Cheese, or crust of bread, That can this night be come by (for your throats, I'll rather see you choked.) But any fare that would content the stomach. Say you so? I'll try what I can do. What a leering eye the Friar cast towards the Cupboard? Bid my Dame provide Cloth, Salt, and Trenchers. But Friar Iohn, how shall we come by meat? For such provision trust to my Art. By Art, can that be done? Yes, by Art Magic. Oh profane, and fearful! Art Magic! didst thou ever study that? It is against our Order. But not as I will order it, fear it not. Can Friar Iohn Conjure? For a Supper, or so, but never durst deal further; Will you furnish a Table fit for meat? Nan, when I say? We shall have now some fooling. What doth my Novice mean? Good Father peace, no hurt to you nor me. Nor any here? That's furnished with a stomach. Doemones, et Cacodoemones conjuro vos, surgite et venite. No man stir, is the Cloth laid, and all things fit for meat? You see to please you, we can do any thing. Now let me see, What Christian Climate yields us the best bread? Oh, the best wheat's in Spain; what say you now To a couple of Cheat Loves baked in Madrid, And brought into this Chamber?
seed 43: T19 · seed 44: T20 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Two Friers ſhut from their Covents, wanting harbour, Begg'd lodging with ſuch importunity They would not be deny'd; at length I pittied them, And yet to make them ſure, I lockt them faſt Up in the Straw-loft, and ſee, here's the Key, Th'are faſt enough for ſtarting. Do'ſt thou know them? Frier Bernard, and Frier Iohn. Frier Bernard, and Frier Iohn? th'onely good Ladds That I deſir'd to meet with; I beſhrew thee They had no better welcome; goe, unlocke, Intreat them hither, we will have one cup To th'health of all their Covent. Call them up? what time ſhall we to bed then? Time enough, early betimes, nay, quick Nan, Frier Iohn there? The bonnieſt Lad e're wore portace in a ſtring, Or mumbled Maſſe, or Mattins; I but wiſh'd And ſee, 'tis come to paſſe; the other to, Though he be ſtrict of life, yet will ſometimes Be merry, if he like his company; But my kind honeſt bald-pate, Frier Iacke, I ſhall be glad to ſee him; welcome faith, With reverence, Father, to your gravity, Be not offended if Frier Iohn and I Be, not exceeding compaſſe, a little merry, And play with the Pot; fill ſome in. To your bellies pots and all. Exceſſe, my Hoſt, can purchaſe no excuſe, But modeſt mirth, tranſgreſſing not his true And lawfull bounds, is good and commendable; Now give us leave to bid you welcome home. Thankes good Frier Bernard, Now as I live, would I had ſome good cheere, No better then I would pay for; but ſhe tells me There's nothing to be compaſſ'd. The worſe lucke; and yet I ſmell a ſupper. Not ſo much as a cantell of Cheeſe, or cruſt of bread, That can this night be come by (for your throates, Ile rather ſee you choakt.) But any fare that would content the ſtomacke. Say you ſo? Ile try what I can doe. What a leering eye the Frier caſt towards the Cupbord? Bid my Dame provide Cloath, Salt, and Trenchers. But Frier Iohn, how ſhall we come by meate? For ſuch proviſion truſt to my Art. By Art, can that be done? Yes, by Art Magicke. Oh prophane, and fearefull! Art Magicke! didſt thou ever ſtudy that? It is againſt our Order. But not as I will order it, feare it not. Can Frier Iohn Conjure? For a Supper, or ſo, but never durſt deale further; Will you furniſh a Table fit for meate? Nan, when I ſay? We ſhall have now ſome fooling. What doth my Novice meane? Good Father peace, no hurt to you nor me. Nor any heere? That's furniſh'd with a ſtomacke. Doemones, et Cacodoemones conjuro vos, ſurgite et venite. No man ſtirre, is the Cloth laid, and all things fit for meat? You ſee to pleaſe you, we can doe any thing. Now let me ſee, What Chriſtian Climate yeelds us the beſt bread? Oh, the beſt wheat's in Spaine; what ſay you now To a couple of Cheat Loves bak'd in Madrid, And brought into this Chamber?