Fletcher, John · published 1640 · first performed or written 1624 [licensed for stage, Oct 19] (Annals) comedy · King's Men unassigned nearest T41 Household service: masters, doors and po · 521 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T41: master, house, door, iohn, old, mistress, basket, lord, gentleman, ick.
Shall I never return to mine own house again, We are lodged here in the miserablest dog-hole, A conjurer's circle gives content above it, A hawks mew is a princely palace to it, We have a bed no bigger than a basket, And there we lie like butter clapped together, And sweat ourselves to sawee immediately, The fumes are Infinite inhabit here too; And to that so thick, they cut like marmalade, So various too, they'll pose a gold finder, Never return to mine own paradise? Why wife I say, why Estifania. I am going presently. Make hast good jewel, I am like the people that live in the sweet Islands: I die I die if I stay but one day more here, My lungs are rotten with the damps that rise, And I cough nothing now but stinks of all sorts, The inhabitants we have are two starved rats, For they are not able to maintain a cat here, And those appear as fearful as two devils, They have eat a map of the whole world up already, And if we stay a night we are gone for company, there's an old woman that's now grown to marble, Dried in this brick hill, and she sits i'th' chimney, Which is but three tiles raised like a house of cards, The true proportion of an old smoked Sibyl, There is a young thing too that nature meant For a maid servant, but 'tis now a monster, She has a husk about her like a chestnut With basinesse, and living under the line here, And these two make a hollow sound together, Like frogs or winds between two doors that murmur Mercy deliver me, o are you come wife, Shall we be free again. I am now going, And you shall presently to your own house sir, The remembrance of this small vexation, Will be argument of mirth for ever: By that time you have said your orisons, And broke your fast, I shall be back and ready, To usher you to your old content, your freedom. Break my neck rather, is there any thing here to eat But one another, like a race of Cannibals, A piece of buttered wall you think is excellent, Let's have our house again immediately, And pray ye take heed unto the furniture, None be embezzled. Not a pin I warrant ye. And let 'em instantly depart. They shall both, There's reason in all courtesies they must both, For by this time I know she has acquainted him, And has provided too she sent me word sit, And will give over gratefully unto you. I'll walk i'th' Churchyard, The dead cannot offend more than these living, An hour hence I'll expect ye. I'll not fail sir. And do you hear, let's have a handsome dinner, And see all things be decent as they have been, And let me have a strong bath to restore me, I stink like a stall-fish shambles, or an oil shop. You shall have all, which some interpret nothing, I'll send ye people for the trunks afore hand, And for the stuff.
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)
Shall I never returne to mine owne house againe, We are lodg'd here in the miserablest dog-hole, A conjurers circle gives content above it, A hawks mew is a princely pallace to it, We have a bed no bigger then a basket, And there we lye like butter clapt together, And sweat our selves to sawee immediatly, The fumes are Infinite inhabit here too; And to that so thick, they ct like marmalette, So various too, they'l pose a gold finder, Never returne to mine own paradise? Why wife I say, why Estifaia. I am going presently. Make hast good jewell, I am like the people that live in the sweet Ilands: I dye I dye if I stay but one day more here, My lungs are rotten with the damps that rise, And I cough nothing now but stinks of all sorts, The inhabitants we have are two starv'd rats, For they are not able to maintain a cat here, And those appeare as fearfull as two divells, They have eat a map of the whole world up already, And if we stay a night we are gone for company, Ther's an old woman that's now grown to marble, Dri'd in this brick hill, and she sits i'th chimnie, Which is but three tiles rais'd like a house of cards, The true proportion of an old smok'd Sibill, There is a young thing too that nature meant For a maid servant, but tis now a monster, She has a huske about hir like a chesnut With basinesse, and living under the line here, And these two make a hollow sound together, Like froggs or winds between two doores that murmur Mercy deliver mee, o are you come wife, Shall we be free agen. I am now going, And you shall presently to your own house sir, The remembrance of this small vexation, Will be argument of mirth for ever: By that time you have said your orisons, And broke your fast, I shall be back and ready, To usher you to your old content, your freedome. Break my neck rather, is there any thing here to eat But one another, like a race of Canniballs, A peece of butter'd wall you think is excellent, Let's have our house agen immediatly, And pray yee take heed unto the furniture, None be imbesseld. Not a pinne I warrant yee. And let um instantly depart. They shall both, There's reason in all curtesies they must both, For by this time I know she has acquainted him, And has provided too she sent me word sit, And will give over gratefully unto you. Ile walke i'th Church-yard, The dead cannot offend more then these living, An houre hence Ile expect ye. Ile not faile sir. And doe you heare, let's have a handsome dinner, And see all things be decent as they have been, And let me have a strong bath to restore mee, I stink like a stall-fish shambles, or an oile shop. You shall have all, which some interpret nothing, Ile send ye people for the trunks afore hand, And for the suffe.