The Night Walker, or The Little Thief · chunk 1 of 39
Fletcher, John / Shirley, James · published 1640 · first performed or written c.1611(?) [revised by Shirley and re-licensed for stage, May 11, 1633] (Annals) comedy · Lady Elizabeth's Men · Phoenix/Cockpit T58 Gallant talk and courtship: an Epicene-c typicality 0.84 · 514 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T58: jack, john, daw, dauphine, amorous, mistress, trve, ladies, wit, madame.
Jack. What wind brought thee hither? In what old hollow tree, or rotten wall Hast thou been like a Swallow all this Winter, Where hast thou been man? Following the Blow. What Blow? Thou hast no Land, steal's thy own purchase. The best inheritance. Not in my opinion, Thou hadst five hundred pound a year. 'tis gone, Prithee no more on't, have I not told thee, And oftentimes, nature made all men equal, Her distribution to each child alike; Till labour came and thrust a new Will in, Which I allow not: till men won a privilege By that they call endeavour, which indeed Is nothing but a lawful Cozenage, An allowed way to cheat, why should my neighbour That hath no more soul than his Horsekeeper, Nor bounteous faculties above a Broom man, Have forty thousand pound, and I four groats; Why should he keep it? Thy old opinion still. Why should that Scrivener That ne'er writ reason in his life, nor any thing That time e'er gloried in, that never knew How to keep any courtesy concealed But Noverint universt must proclaim it, Purchase perpetually, and I a rascal: Consider this, why should that mouldy Cobbler Marry his daughter to a wealthy Merchant, And give five thousand pound, is this good justice? Because he has a tougher constitution; Can feed upon old songs, and save his money, Therefore must I go beg? What's this to thee? Thou canst not mend it, if thou be'st determined To rob all like a tyrant, yet take heed A keener justice do not overtake thee, And catch you in a noose. I am no Woodcock, He that shall sit down frighted with that foolery Is not worth pity, let me alone to shuffle; Thou art for wenching. For beauty I, a safe course, No halter hangs in my way, I defy it. But a worse fate, a wilful poverty, For where thou 'gainst by one that indeed loves thee, A thousand will draw from thee, 'tis thy destiny; One is a kind of weeping cross Jack, A gentle purgatory, do not fling at all, You'll pay the Box so often, till thou perish. Take you no care for that Sir, 'tis my pleasure, I will employ my wits a great deal faster Than you shall do your fingers, and my Loves, If I mistake not, shall prove riper harvest And handsomer, and come within less danger. Where's thy young sister? I know not where she is, she is not worth caring for, She has no wit. Oh you'd be nibbling with her, she's far enough I hope, I know not where, she's not worth caring for, a sullen thing She would not take my counsel Jack, And so I parted from her. Leave her to her wants? I gave her a little money what I could spare, She had a mind tooth country, she is turned By this some farrier's dairy maid, I may meet her Riding from market one day twixt her Dorsers; If I do, by this hand I wonot spare Her butter pence.
seed 43: T54 · seed 44: T54 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
IAcke. What winde brought thee hither? In what old hollow tree, or rotten wall Hast thou beene like a Swallow all this Winter, Where hast thou beene man? Following the Plow. What Plow? Thou hast no Land, Stealing's thy owne purchase. The best inheritance. Not in my opinion, Thou hadst five hundred pound a yeare. Tis gone, Prethee no more on't, have I not told thee, And oftentimes, nature made all men equall, Her distribution to each child alike; Till labour came and thrust a new Will in, Which I allow not: till men wonne a priviledge By that they call endeavour, which indeede Is nothing but a lawfull Cosenage, An allowed wayto cheate, why should my neighbour That hath no more soule then his Horsekeeper, Nor bounteous faculties above a Broome man, Have fortie thousand pound, and I foure groates; Why should he keepe it? Thy old opinion still. Why should that Scrivener That ne're writ reason in his life, nor any thing That time e're gloried in, that never knew How to keepe any curtesie conceal'd But Noverint universt must proclaime it, Purchase perpetually, and I a rascall: Consider this, why should that mouldy Cobler Marry his daughter to a wealthy Merchant, And give five thousand pound, is this good justice? Because he has a tougher constitution; Can feede upon old songs, and save his money, Therefore must I goe beg? What's this to thee? Thou canst not mend it, if thou beest determind To roball like a tyrant, yet take heede A keener justice doe not overtake thee, And catch you in a Nooze. I am no Woodcocke, He that shall sit downe frighted with that foolery Is not worth pitty, let me alone to shuffle; Thou art for wenching. For beauty I, a safe course, No halter hangs in my way, I defie it. But a worse fate, a wilfull povertie, For where thou gainst by one that indeede loves thee, A thousand will draw from thee, tis thy destiny; One is a kinde of weeping crosse Iacke, A gentle purgatory, doe not fling at all, You'le pay the Box so often, till thou perish. Take you no care for that Sir, tis my pleasure, I will imploy my wits a great deale faster Then you shall doe your fingers, and my Loves, If I mistake not, shall prove riper harvest And handsomer, and come within lesse danger. Where's thy young sister? I know not where she is, she is not worth caring for, She has no wit. Oh you'd be nibling with her, Shee's farre enough I hope, I know not where, Shee's not worth caring for, a sullenthing Shee wod not take my counsell Iacke, And so I parted from her. Leave her to her wants? I gave her a little money what I could spare, Shee had a minde toth countrey, she is turn'd By this some Farriers dairy maid, I may meet her Riding from market one day twixt her Dorsers; If I doe, by this hand I wonnot spare Her butter pence.