The Night Walker, or The Little Thief · chunk 35 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 T47 Knaves, thieves and bawds typicality 0.82 · 502 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T47: knave, rogue, money, knaves, thief, rogues, pray, whore, nichol, book.
I am half afraid of myself: this poor shift I got o'th' Sexton to convey me handsomely To some harbour, the wench will hardly know me; They'll take me for some Watchman o'th' parish; I ha' ne'er a penny left me, that's one comfort; And ringing has begot a monstrous stomach, And that's another mischief, I were best go home, For every thing will scorn me in this habit. Besides, I am so full of these young bell-ringers; If I get in adoors, not the power o'th' country, Nor all my aunt's curses shall disembogue me. Bid her come hither presently,— hum, 'tis he. I am betrayed to one that will eternally laugh at me, Three of these rogues will Jeer a horse to death. 'tis Mr. Wildbrain sure, and yet methinks His fashion's strangely altered; sirrah watchman, You rugamuffin, turn you lousy bear's skin: You with the bedrid bill. Has found me out; There's no avoiding him, I had rather now Be arraigned at Newgate for a robbery Than answer to his Articles: your will sir, I am in haste. Nay then I will make bold wi'ye; A Watchman and ashamed to show his countenance, His face of authority; I have seen that physiognomy; Were you never in prison for pilfering? How the rogue worries me. Why may not this Be the villain robbed my house last night, And walks disguised in this malignant rug, Armed with a ton of Iron, I will have you Before a Magistrate. What will become of me? What art thou? speak. I am the wandering Iew, and please your worship. By your leave Rabbi, I will show you then A Synagogue, yclept Bridewell, where you Under correction may rest yourself; You have brought a bill to guard you, there be dog whips To firk such rugged curs, whips without bells Indeed. Bells. How he sweets? I must be known, as good at first; now, jeer on, But do not anger me too impudently, The Rabbi will be moved then. How? jacks Wildbrains What time o'th' Moon man, ha? what strange bells Hast in thy brains. No more bells, No more bells, they ring backwards. Why, where's the Wench, the blessing that befell thee? The unexpected happiness? where's that Jack? Where are thy golden days? It was his trick as sure as I am lousy, But how to be revenged— Fie, fie, Jack, Marry a Watchman's widow in thy young days, With a revenue of old Iron, and a rug, Is this the Paragon, the dainty Piece, The delicate divine Rogue? 'tis enough I am undone, Marked for a misery, and so leave prating; Give me my bill, You need not ask your Tailors, Unless you had better linings; it may be To avoid suspicion you are going thus Disguised to your fair Mistress. Mock no further, Or as I live I'll lay my bill o'thy pate, I'll take a Watchman's fury into my fingers, To ha' no judgement to distinguish persons And knock thee down.
c.1611(?) [revised by Shirley and re-licensed for stage, May 11, 1633]
First performance (BritDrama)
1615 [1613-1616] [revised 1633]
Company (BritDrama)
Lady Elizabeth's Men
Theater
Phoenix/Cockpit;Indoor Professional
Genre (British Drama)
comedy
Play type
Adult Professional;Professional
Edition / TCP / DEEP
edition 1127 · TCP A00966 · DEEP 947
Edition role
Representative edition — used in the analysis
Position
nodes 2321–2394 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 35 of 39 in this edition
Length
502 words · 705 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T47 — Knaves, thieves and bawdscross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.819 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
seed 43: T46 · seed 44: T41 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
I am halfe a fraid of my selfe: this poore shift I got oth' Sexton to convey me hansomely To some harbour, the wench will hardly know me; They'le take me for some Watchman oth' parish; I ha ne're a penny left me, thats one comfort; And ringing has begot a monstrous stomacke, And that's another mischiefe, I were best goe home, For every thing will scorne mee in this habit. Besides, I am so full of these young bell-ringers; If I get in adoores, not the power oth' countrey, Nor all my Aunts curses shall disembogue me. Bid her come hither presently, — hum, tis he. I am betraid to one that will eternally laugh at me, Three of these rouges will Jeere a horse to death. Tis Mr. Wildbraine sure, and yet me thinkes His fashion's strangely altred; sirra watchman, You rugamuffin, turne you louzie beares skinne: You with the bed-rid bill. Ha's found me out; There's no avoiding him, I had rather now Be arraign'd at Newgate for a robberie Than answer to his Articles: your will sir, I am in haste. Nay then I will make bold wo'yee; A Watchman and asham'd to shew his countenance, His face of authoritie; I have seene that physiognomy; Were you never in prison for pilfering? How the rouge worries me. Why may not this Be the villaine rob d my house last night, And walkes disguis'd in this malignant rugge, Arm'd with a tunne of Iron, I will have you Before a Magistrate. What will become of me? What art thou? speake. I am the wandring Iew, and please your worship. By your leave Rabbi, I will shew you then A Synagogue, iclip't Bridewell, where you Under correction may rest your selfe; You have brought a bill to guard you, there be dog whips To firke such rugg'd curres, whips without bells Indeed. Bells. How he sweets? I must be knowne, as good at first; now, jeere on, But doe not anger me too impudently, The Rabbi will be mov'd then. How? Iacks Wildebraim What time oth' Moone man, ha? what strange bells Hast in thy braines. No more bells, No more bells, they ring backwards. Why, where's the Wench, the blessing that befell thee? The unexpected happinesse? wher's that Jacke? Where are thy golden dayes? It was his tricke as sure as I am lousie, But how to be reveng'd — Fie, fie, Iacke, Marry a Watchmans widow in thy young dayes, With a revenew of old Iron, and a rugge, Is this the Paragon, the dainty Peece, The delicate divine Rogue? Tis euough I am undone, Mark'd for a misery, and so leave prating; Give me my bill, You neede not aske your Taylors, Vnlesse you had better linings; it may be To avoid suspition you are going thus Disguis'd to your faire Mistresse. Mocke no further, Or as I live Ile lay my bill o'thy pate, Ile take a Watchmans fury into my fingers, To ha no judgement to distinguish persons And knocke thee downe.