The Bloody Brother (Rollo, Duke of Normandy) · chunk 10 of 39
Fletcher, John / Field, Nathan / Massinger, Philip · published 1640 · first performed or written 1617 [revised 1627-1630] (Annals) tragedy · King's Men unassigned nearest T44 Drinking: wine, ale and taverns · 476 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T44: drink, wine, numps, ale, butler, pot, sing, moy, drunk, win.
And faith master, What brave new meats, for here will be old eating? Old and young boy, let 'em all eat, I have it, I have ballast for their bellies, if they eat, a God's name Let 'em have ten tire of teeth a piece, I care not. But what new rare munition? Peuh a thousand, I'll make ye Pigs speak French at table, and a fat Swan Come sculling out of England with a challenge. I'll make ye a dish of calf's feet dance the Canaries, And a consort of crammed Capons fiddle to 'em. A calf's head speak an Oracle, and a dozen of Larks Rise from the dish, and sing all supper time; 'tis nothing boys, I have framed a fortification, Out of Rye past, which is impregnable, And against that for two long hours together, Two dozen of maribones shall play continually. For Fish i'll make ye a standing lake of White-broth, And Pikes come ploughing up the plumbs before 'em Arion on a Dolphin playing Lachrimae, And brave King Herring with his oil and onion Crowned with a lemon pill, his way prepared with his strong guard of pilchers. I marry master. All these are nothing, i'll make ye a stubble goose Turn o'th' toe thrice, do a cross point presently And then sit down again, and cry, come eat me. These are for mirth, now Sir, for matter of mourning I'll bring ye in the lady loin of veal With the long love she bore the Prince of Orange. Thou boy, thou! I have a trick for thee too, And a rare trick, and I have done it for thee. What's that good master? 'tis a sacrifice, a full vine bending like an Arch, And under the blown god Bacchus sitting on a hogshead his altar here, before that a plump Vintner, Kneeling and offering incense to his Deity, Which shall be only this, red sprats and pilchers. This when the Tables drawn, to draw the wine in. Thou hast it right, And then comes thy Song butler. This will be admirable. O Sir, most admirable. If you'll have the paste speak, 'tis in my power I have fire enough to work it, come stand close, And now rehearse the Song it may be perfect, The drinking song, and say I were the Brothers. Drink today and drown all sorrow, You shall perhaps not do it tomorrow. Best while you have it use your breath, There is no drinking after death. Wine works the heart up, wakes the wit, There is no cure 'gainst age but it. It helps the headache, cough and tissick, And is for all diseases Physic. Then let us swill boys for our health, Who drinks well loves the common wealth. And he that will to bed go sober, Falls with the leaf still in October.
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)
And faith master, What brave new meats, for here will be old eating? Old and young boy, let em all eat, I have it, I have ballasse for their bellies, if they eat, a Gods name Let em have ten tire of teeth a peece, care not. But what new rare munition? Peuh a thousand, Ile make yee Pigs speak French at table, and a fat Swan Come sculing out of England with a challenge. Ile make yee a dish of Calves feet dance the Canaries, And a consort of cram'd Capons fiddle to em. A Calves head speak an Oracle, and a dozen of Larkes Rise from the dish, and sing all supper time; Tis nothing boyes, I have fram'd a fortification, Out of Rye past, which is impregnable, And against that for two long houres together, Two dozn of maribones shall play continually. For Fish ile make ye a standing lake of White-broth, And Pikes come ploughing up the plumbes before 'em Arion on a Dolphin playing Lachrimae, And brave King Herring with his oyle and onyon Crownd with a leomon pill, his way prepar'd with his strong guard of pilchers. I marry maister. All these are nothing, ile make ye a stubble goose Turne oth toe thrice, doe a crosse point presently And then sit downe againe, and cry, come eate mee. These are for mirth, now Sir, for matter of mourning Ile bring ye in the lady loyne of Veale With the long love she bore the Prince of Orenge. Thou boy, thou! I have a trick for thee too, And a rare trick, and I have done it for thee. What's that good master? Tis a sacrifice, a full vine bending like an Arch, And under the blowne god Bacchus sitting on a hogs-head his altar heere, before that a plump Vintner, Kneeling and offering incense to his Deity, Which shall be only this, red spratts and pilchers. This when the Tables drawne, to draw the wine in. Thou hast it right, And then comes thy Song butler. This will be admirable. O Sir, most admirable. If you'l have the paste speak, 'tis in my power I have fire enough to worke it, come stand close, And now rehearse the Song it may be perfect, The drinking song, and say I were the Brothers. Drinke to day and drowne all sorrow, You shall perhaps not doe it to morrow. Best while you have it use your breath, There is no drinking after death. Wine works the heart up, wakes the wit, There is no cure gainst age but it. It helps the head-ach, cough and tissick, And is for all diseases Physick. Then let us swill boyes for our health, Who drinkes well loves the common wealth. And he that will to bed goe sober, Falls with the leafe still in October.