D., J. · published 1640 · first performed or written c.1625 [revised c.1632] (Annals) comedy · Unknown · Fortune T6 Money, debt and credit typicality 0.72 · 484 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T6: money, master, pound, law, lawyer, chain, gentleman, gold, pay, pray.
She were no good Bawd else. Come, sit round, sit round, tomorrow the day? Pardon me, I'll not sit next this lousy fellow: gentlemen, what do you with this poor rogue in your companies? Does he come to make mirth, can he play the fool wittingly? I know him not. Would he were set down stairs, I never could endure him from the first: Franciscus made me know him. Sirrah, if you mean to depart in peace, begone suddenly. Would the Ass could rid this intruding Copesmate. Let me beseech you. You shall go, your prayers cannot save you; Fub, show him the way down. Shall I be your Usher? will you follow your leader sir? Thus poverty's despised at home, abroad, and in all companies. A whoreson Tatterdemalian, come amongst Gentlemen of sort. What, is't no more but up and ride? How now Fub, is he vanished? The Drawers have drawn him out Sir. Clinke boys. Drink boys. And let the Cannikin clink boys. Stultus. Yes Lodwick. Tomaso, shall's make a night on't mad lads? And a mad night too Bullies: where shall's strike fail? The Leaguer, where but o'th' new Leaguer: there's generous entertainment for Gallants of sort at all times: and for entrance trust me my mates. But money grows low, and expenses will fly high. Fly high, let it, I have a jack in a box shall pay for all one day. I am as full as a Sponge, I cannot sink up a drop more. No matter, we can squeeze some more out thus: we can wake the Constable, trouble the neighbours, disquiet the Master and whole family, spill his Wine, puff his Tobacco, foul his rooms, practise who shall break most holes, and cleanliest, in the bottom of quart-pots, with a piece of a Tobacco-pipe: cry good morrow mine Host, we ha' made a mad night on't I vow, and so trance; we are no Gallants and we cannot do this. But this course is either conscionable, or commendable. Faith 'tis the course, most of the cork-headed Candle-snuffs walk in these latter days, late at nights. Well, let them rest: So, ho, the Leaguer. Chi-va-lah. Amice. The word. Pecima largienda. Let 'em pass: down with the portcullis: Lights and attendance, welcome Gentlemen. I ever said, it might come in a night, that came not in an age, Et ecce noctem faelicem; see, that jovial night is come: They have been playing high, and potting deep: Lights, Wine, and more stools for these Gentlemen; welcome. Tomaso when's the day? Assure's this the night before tomorrow, I have brought in my Estate a matter of 400 pound per annum, in Deeds, Leases, Fee-simple, and Copyhold already: and that's no simple Estate you'll say: I mean to bid you welcome to a Leaguer of mine own shortly Gentlemen; some wine you Scoundrels. I'm pleased to here't, whose faults this, yours Tomaso?
nodes 1082–1119 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 24 of 46 in this edition
Length
484 words · 714 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T6 — Money, debt and creditcross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.716 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
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)
She were no good Bawd elſe. Come, ſit round, ſit round, to morrow the day? Pardon me, Ile not ſit next this louſie fellow: gentlemen, what doe you with this poore rogue in your companies? Does he come to make mirth, can hee play the foole wittingly? I know him not. Would he were ſet downe ſtaires, I never could endure him from the firſt: Franciſcus made me know him. Sirra, if you meane to depart in peace, begon ſuddainly. Would the Aſſe could rid this intruding Copeſmate. Let me beſeech you. You ſhall goe, your prayers cannot ſave you; Fub, ſhew him the way downe. Shall I be your Vſher? will you follow your leader ſir? Thus poverty's deſpis'd at home, abroad, and in all companies. A whorſon Tatred-demallion, come amongſt Gentlemen of ſort. What, is't no more but up and ride? How now Fub, is he vaniſht? The Drawers have drawne him out Sir. Clinke boyes. Drinke boyes. And let the Cannikin clinke boyes. Stultus. Yes Lodwick. Tomaſo, ſhall's make a night on't mad lads? And a mad night too Bullies: where ſhall's ſtrike faile? The Leaguer, where but a'th' new Leaguer: there's generous entertainment for Gallants of ſort at all times: and for entrance truſt me my mates. But money grows low, and expences will flye high. Fly hye, let it, I have a jacke in a boxe ſhall pay for all one day. I am as full as a Spunge, I cannot ſinke up a drop more. No matter, we can ſqueeze ſome more out thus: we can wake the Conſtable, trouble the neighbours, diſquiet the Maſter and whole family, ſpill his Wine, puffe his Tobacco, foule his roomes, practiſe who ſhall breake moſt holes, and cleanlieſt, in the bottome of quart-pots, with a piece of a Tobacco-pipe: cry good morrow mine Hoſt, we ha' made a madde night on't I vow, and ſo trance; wee are no Gallants and we cannot doe this. But this courſe is either conſcionable, or commendable. Faith 'tis the courſe, moſt of the corke-headed Candle-ſnuffes walke in theſe latter daies, late at nights. Well, let them reſt: So, ho, the Leaguer. Chi-va-lah. Amice. The word. Pecima largienda. Let 'em paſſe: downe with the Percullis: Lights and attendance, welcome Gentlemen. I ever ſaid, it might come in a night, that came not in an age, Et ecce noctem faelicem; ſee, that joviall night is come: They have beene playing high, and potting deepe: Lights, Wine, and more ſtooles for theſe Gentlemen; welcome. Tomaſo when's the day? Aſſure's this the night before to morrow, I have brought in my Eſtate a matter of 400 pound per annum, in Deeds, Leaſes, Fee-ſimple, and Coppy-hold already: and that's no ſimple Eſtate youle ſay: I meane to bid you welcome to a Leaguer of mine own ſhortly Gentlemen; ſome wine you Scondrils. I'me pleas'd to here't, whoſe faults this, yours Tomaſo?