The Bloody Brother (Rollo, Duke of Normandy) · chunk 23 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 T47 Knaves, thieves and bawds · 473 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T47: knave, rogue, money, knaves, thief, rogues, pray, whore, nichol, book.
Pray for thy crusty soul, where's your reward now Good goodman manchet, for your fine discovery? I do beseech you Sir, where are your dollars? Draw with your fellows and be hanged. He must now, For now he shall be hanged first that's his comfort, A place too good for thee, thou mealmouth rascal. Hang handsomely for shame, come leave your praying You peaking knave, and die like a good Courtier, Die honestly and like a man, no preaching With I beseech you take example by me. I lived a lewd man good people. pox on't, Die me as thou hadst dined, say grace & God be with you. Come will ye forward? Good Master Sheriff your leave too. This hasty work was never done well, give us so much time As but to sing our own Ballad, for we'll trust no man Nor no tune but our own, 'twas done in Ale too, And therefore cannot be refused in justice, Your penny pot-Poets are such pelting thieves, They hang men ever twice, we have it here Sir, And so must every merchant of our voyage, he'll make a sweet return else of his credit. One fit of our own mirth, and then we are for ye. Make haste then and dispatch. There's day enough Sir. Come boys sing cheerfully, we shall never sing younger, We have chose a loud tune too because it should like well, Come fortune's a whore I care not who tell her, Would offer to strangle a page of the Cellar. That should by his oath to any man's thinking And place, have had a defence for his drinking. But this she does when she pleases to palter, Instead of his wages she gives him a halter. Three merry boys, and three merry boys, and three merry boys are we, As e'er did sing three parts in a string, All under the triple tree. But I that was so lusty, and ever kept my bottles, That neither they were musty, and seldom less than pottles. For me to be thus stopped now With hemp instead of Cork Sir, And from the Gallows lopped now Shows that there is a fork Sir In death, and this the Token. Man may be two ways killed, Or like the bottle broken, Or like the wine be spilt. Three merry boys, etc. O yet but look on the master Cook the glory of the kitchen, In sowing whose fate at so lofty a rate no Tailor had a stitch in For though he make the man, The Cook yet makes the dishes: The which no Tailor can, Wherein I have my wishes. That I who at so many a feast have pleased so many Tasters, Should come myself for to be dressed, a dish for you my masters. Three merry boys, etc.
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: T41 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Pray for thy crusty soul, where's your reward now Good goodman manchet, for your fine discovery? I doe beseech you Sir, where are your dollers? Draw with your fellows and be hang'd. He must now, For now he shall be hang'd first that's his comfort, A place too good for thee, thou meale-mouthd rascall. Hang handsomely for shame, come leave your praying You peaking knave, and die like a good Courtier, Die honestly and like a man, no preaching With I beseech you take example by me. I liv'd a lewd man good people. pox on't, Die me as thou had'st din'd, say grace & God be with you. Come will yee forward? Good Master Sheriffe your leave too. This hasty work was never done well, give us so much time As but to sing our own Ballad, for weel trust no mn Nor no tune but our own, 'twas done in Ale too, And therefore cannot be refu'd in justice, Your penny pot-Poets are such pelting theeves, They hang men ever twice, we have it here Sir, And so must every marchant of our voyage, Heele make a sweet returne else of his credit. One fit of our own mirth, and then we are for yee. Make hast then and dispatch. Theres day enough Sir. Come boyes sing cheerefully, we shall never sing younger, We have chose a loud tune too because it should like well, Come fortune's a whore I are not who tell her, Would offer to strangle a page of the Celler. That should by his oath to any mans thinking And place, have had a defence for his drinking. But this she does when she pleases to palter, Insteed of his wages she gives him a halter. Three merry boyes, and three merry boyes, and three merry boyes are we, As e're did sing three parts in a string, All under the triple tree. But I that was so lusty, and ever kept my bottles, That neither they were musty, and selome lesse then pottles. For me to be thus stopt now With hmp insteed of Corke Sir, And from the Gallows lopt now Shewes that there is a forke Sir In death, and this the Token. Man may be two waies killed, Or like the bottle broken, Or like the wine be spilled. Three merry boyes, &c. O yet but looke on the master Cook the glory of the kitchin, In sowing whose fate at so lofty arae no Tayler had a stitch in For though he make the man, The Cook yet makes the dishes: The which no Tailor can, Wherein I have my wishes. That I who at so many a feast have pleas'd so many Tasters, Should come my selfe for to be drest, a dish for you my masters. Three merry boyes, &c.