D., J. · published 1640 · first performed or written c.1625 [revised c.1632] (Annals) comedy · Unknown · Fortune T3 Sickness, physic and doctors typicality 0.80 · 495 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T3: doctor, master, cure, disease, pray, physic, physician, mr, sick, lady.
That's an easy question, because most of them get Follies wings, and grow so light there's no ho with them: they must fly out. Hang them, they are nought all: Tell not me learned Ovidius Naso, what's your name. Good sir. That bloody villain: Treason gentlemen, call up a Guard, the traitor's discovered: bind him sure, sure: are you took napping sirrah: Down with him, down with him, down. Help, help, help Gentlemen. I do not like this. Now my sweet I have sent him off in post, Let us retire the while. Who in affection will not his wits prove, Was never loyal, nor did ever love. Past, past cure, I doubt. Give me leave, I find by my Art 'tis no Vertigo, no whirling, but a mere settled frenzy: Nay I pray you give me leave: for as both Hippocrates, and Galen, Avicen, Podalirius, Rucis, Cornelius, Celsus, Corannus, Augustino, and Rombart, do you conceive me? besides a dozen or two of Englishmen, most learned and worthy physicians (if I knew what they were) have demonstrated paraphrastically, both it and the cause, styling the malady the digestion of the brain, or Irrevocabilis ignis, the irrevocable fire: Nay, will you understand me? Would we could. I pray you give me leave. Who hinders him? Sir if you can speak our tongue, I would very fain be beholding to you. Art thou mad? Not altogether mad, though I confess I have been pricked with the thorns of Love: I have been over shoes in my days. Avoidance, for charity avoidance. Yes marry shall you: I would desire you to help me to a pill, or a potion that could make one honest, that I doubt is a little gone astray. Avaunt, avaunt. No sir, she is none of my naunts: she's one that must be my wife. Turbulent fiend: avaunt, avaunt I charge thee. I would have it applied sir. Illiterate dunce, abandon my house, avaunt I say again. Nay, I pray you be quiet, for though I have endured many hard words at your hands, I shall hardly brook blows. Good gentlemen give me leave to laugh: ha, ha, ha, the doctor's wife, and the Madman: the madman, and the doctor's wife. Why, what's the matter? Why sir, the fits upon him, and he's upon her, and yonder's such sport, ha, ha, ha. Fire and Thunder. Run: beware horns. Is this true sirrah? Follow the Doctor, believe your eyes. Beware the trap Valentius. Pray heaven he be not ta'en with nibbing. Why are you melancholy Signior? Faith sir I'm troubled with corns, and ever against rain they make me so melancholy— Is that it, for the thing you spoke on, you shall not be beholding to the scald peremptory Doctor: Come to my Chamber anon, and I'll give you a powder shall fulfil your request, as well as all the potions or Pills he can devise. Nay, but will you be constant. Say no more:
nodes 862–900 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 20 of 46 in this edition
Length
495 words · 714 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T3 — Sickness, physic and doctorscross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.799 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
seed 43: T3 · seed 44: T4 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
That's an eaſie queſtion, becauſe moſt of them get Follies wings, and grow ſo light there's no ho with them: they muſt flye out. Hang them, they are naught all: Tell not me learned Ovidius Naſo, what's your name. Good ſir. That bloody villaine: Treaſon gentlemen, call up a Guard, the traytor's diſcovered: binde him ſure, ſure: are you tooke napping ſirrah: Downe with him, downe with him, downe. Helpe, helpe, helpe Gentlemen. I doe not like this. Now my ſweet I have ſent him off in poſt, Let us retire the while. Who in affection will not his wits prove, Was never loyall, nor did ever love. Paſt, paſt cure, I doubt. Give me leave, I finde by my Art 'tis no Vertiga, no whirling, but a meere ſetled frenzy: Nay I pray you give me leave: for as both Hypocrates, and Gallen, Avicen, Podalirius, Rucis, Cornelius, Celſus, Corannus, Augustino, and Rombart, doe you conceive mee? beſides a dozen or two of Engliſh-men, moſt learned and worthy phyſitians (if I knew what they were) have demonſtrated paraphraſtically, both it and the cauſe, ſtyling the malady the digeſtion of the braine, or Irrevocabilis ignis, the irrevocable fire: Nay, will you underſtand me? Would we could. I pray you give me leave. Who hinders him? Sir if you can ſpeake our tongue, I would very faine be beholding to you. Art thou mad? Not altogether mad, though I confeſſe I have beene prickt with the thornes of Love: I have beene over ſhooes in my dayes. Avoydance, for charity avoydance. Yes marry ſhall you: I would deſire you to helpe me to a pill, or a potion that could make one honeſt, that I doubt is a little gone aſtray. Avaunt, avaunt. No ſir, ſhe is none of my naunts: ſhee's one that muſt be my wife. Turbulant fiend: avaunt, avaunt I charge thee. I would have it applyed ſir. Illiterate dunce, abandon my houſe, avaunt I ſay againe. Nay, I pray you be quiet, for though I have endured many hard words at your hands, I ſhall hardly brooke blowes. Good gentlemen give me leave to laugh: ha, ha, ha, the Doctors wife, and the Mad-man: the mad-man, and the Doctors wife. Why, what's the matter? Why ſir, the fits upon him, and he's upon her, and younder's ſuch ſport, ha, ha, ha. Fire and Thunder. Runne: ware hornes. Is this true ſirrah? Follow the Doctor, believe your eyes. Beware the trap Valentius. Pray heaven he be not tane with nibbing. Why are you melancholy Signior? Faith ſir I' me troubled with cornes, and ever againſt raine they make me ſo melancholy— Is that it, for the thing you ſpake on, you ſhall not be beholding to the ſcald peremptory Doctor: Come to my Chamber anon, and Ile give you a powder ſhall fulfill your requeſt, as well as all the potions or Pills he can deviſe. Nay, but will you be conſtant. Say no more: