Brome, Richard · published 1640 · first performed or written 1638 [1636-1638] (Annals) not in BritDrama · Salisbury Court unassigned nearest T6 Money, debt and credit · 504 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T6: money, master, pound, law, lawyer, chain, gentleman, gold, pay, pray.
Quite trade-fallen, my good Lord, now in her dotage; And desperately undone by riot. 'las good woman, She has consumed in prodigal feasts and Fiddlers, And lavish lendings to debauched Comrades, That sucked her purse, in Jewels, Plate, and money, To the full value of six thousand pounds. She shall have a Collection, and deserves it. 'tis monstrous, this. Then here are divers more, Of Panders, Cheaters, house and highway Robbers, That have got great estates in youth and strength, And wasted all as fast in wine and Harlots. Till age o'ertook 'em, and disabled them, For getting more For such the Law provides Relief within those Counties, where they practised. Ha! what for thieves? Yes, their Law punisheth The robbed, and not the thief, for surer warning, And the more safe prevention. I have seen Folks whipped for losing of their goods and money, And the pick-pockets cherished. The weal public, As it severely punisheth their neglect, Undone by fire ruins, shipwreck, and the like, With whips, with brands, and loss of careless ears, Imprisonment, banishment, and sometimes death; And carefully maintaineth houses of Correction For decayed Scholars, and maimed Soldiers; So doth it find relief. and almshouses, For such as lived by Rapine and by Cozenage. Still worse and worse! abominable! horrid! Yet here is one, my Lord, 'bove all the rest, Whose services have generally been known, Though now he be a spectacle of pity: Who's that? The captain of the Cutpurses, my Lord; That was the best at's art that ever was, Is fallen to great decay, by the dead palsy In both his hands, and craves a large collection. I'll get it him. You shall not get it him. Do you provide whips, brands; and ordain death, For men that suffer under fire, or shipwreck, The loss of all their honest gotten wealth: And find relief for Cheaters, Bawds, and Thieves? I'll hang ye all. Mercy great King. O mercy. Let not our ignorance suffer in your wrath, Before we understand your highness' Laws, We went by custom, and the warrant, which We had in your late Predecessors reign; But let us know your pleasure, you shall find The State and Commonwealth in all obedient, To alter Custom, Law, Religion, all, To be conformable to your commands. 'tis a fair protestation: And my mercy Meets your submission. See you merit it In your conformity. Great Sir we shall. In sign whereof we lacerate these papers. And lay our necks beneath your Kingly feet. Stand up you have our favour. And mine too? Never was such an actor as Extempore! You were best to fly out of the window to him. methinks I am even light enough to do it. I could find in my heart to Quoit thee at him. So he would catch me in his arms I cared not. Peace both of you, or you'll spoil all. your Grace Abounds— abounds— your Grace— I say abounds. Pox o'your mumbling chops; is your brain dry? Do you pump?
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: T10 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Quite trade-fallen, my good Lord, now in her dotage; And desperately undone by ryot. 'Lasse good woman, She has consum'd in prodigall feasts and Fidlers, And lavish lendings to debauch'd Comrades, That suckt her purse, in Jewells, Plate, and money, To the full value of sixe thousand pounds. She shall have a Collection, and deserves it. Tis monstrous, this. Then here are divers more, Of Pandars, Cheaters, house-and high-way Robbers, That have got great estates in youth and strength, And wasted all as fast in wine and Harlots. Till age o'retooke 'hem, and disabled them, For getting more For such the Law provides Reliefe within those Counties, where they practis'd. Ha! what for thieves? Yes, their Law punisheth The rob'd, and not the thiefe, for surer warning, And the more safe prevention. I have seene Folkes whipt for losing of their goods and money, And the picke-pockets cherish'd. The weale publicke, As it severely punisheth their neglect, Undone by fire ruines, shipwracke, and the like, With whips, with brands, and losse of carelesse eares, Imprisonment, banishment, and sometimes death; And carefully maintaineth houses of Correction For decay'd Schollars, and maim'd Souldiers; So doth it finde reliefe. and almes-houses, For such as liv'd by Rapine and by Cosenage. Still worse and worse! abhominable! horrid! Yet here is one, my Lord, 'bove all the rest, Whose services have generally bin knowne, Though now he be a spectacle of pitty: Who's that? The captaine of the Cut-purses, my Lord; That was the best at's art that ever was, Is fallen to great decay, by the dead palsie In both his hands, and craves a large collection. Ile get it him. You shall not get it him. Doe you provide whips, brands; and ordaine death, For men that suffer under fire, or shipwracke, The losse of all their honest gotten wealth: And finde reliefe for Cheaters, Bawdes, and Thieves? Ile hang yee all. Mercy great King. O mercy. Let not our ignorance suffer in your wrath, Before we understand your highnesse Lawes, We went by custome, and the warrant, which We had in your late Predecessors raigne; But let us know your pleasure, you shall finde The State and Common-wealth in all obedient, To alter Custome, Law, Religion, all, To be conformable to your commands. Tis a faire protestation: And my mercy Meets your submission. See you merit it In your conformity. Great Sir we shall. In signe whereof we lacerate these papers. And lay our necks beneath your Kingly feet. Stand up you have our favour. And mine too? Never was such an actor as Extempore! You were best to flye out of the window to him. Me thinkes I am even light enough to doe it. I could finde in my heart to Quoit thee at him. So he would catch me in his armes I car'd not. Peace both of you, or you'l spoyle all. your Grace Abounds — abounds — your Grace — I say abounds. Pox o'your mumbling chops; is your braine dry? Doe you pump?