The Magnetic Lady, or Humors Reconciled · chunk 21 of 45
Jonson, Ben · published 1640 · first performed or written 1632 [licensed for stage, Oct 12] (Annals) comedy · King's Men T3 Sickness, physic and doctors typicality 0.71 · 479 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T3: doctor, master, cure, disease, pray, physic, physician, mr, sick, lady.
And they follow him. Not, Sir Diaphanous is a Recusant In sack. He only takes it in French wine, With an allay of water. In in, Item, And leave your peeping. I have a month's mind, To peep a little too. Sweet Mass ' Needle, How are they set? At the boards end my Lady—. And my young Mrs. by her? Yes, the Parson On the right hand (as he'll not loose his place For thrusting) and 'gainst him Mistress Polish: Next, Sir Diaphanous, against Sir Moth; Knights, one again another: Than the Soldier, The man of war, and man of peace the Lawyer: Than the port Doctor, and the politic Bias, And Mr. Compass circumscribeth all. Nurse Keep, nurse Keep! What noise is that within? Come to my Mistress, all their weapons are out. Mischief of men! what day, what hour is this? Run for the cellar of strong waters, quickly. Were you a mad man to do this at table? And trouble all the Guests, to affright the Ladies, And Gentlewomen? Pox upo' your women, And your half man there, Court-Sir Ambergris: A perfumed braggart: He must drink his wine With three parts water; and have Amber in that too. And you must therefore break his face with a Glass, And wash his nose in wine. Cannot he drink In Orthodox, but he must have his Gums, And Panym Drugs? You should have used the Glass Rather as balance, than the sword of Justice: But you have cut his face with it, he bleeds. Come you shall take your Sanctuary with me; The whole house will be up in arms 'gainst you else, Within this half hour; this way to my lodging. A most rude action! carry her to her bed; And use the Fricace to her, with those oils. Keep your news Item now, and tend this business. Good Gossip look to her. How do you sweet charge? She's in a sweat. I, and a faint sweat marry. Let her alone to Tim: he has directions, I'll hear your news Tim Item, when you ha' done. Was ever such a Guest brought to my table? These boisterous Soldiers ha' no better breeding. Here Mr. Compass comes: where's your Captain, Rudhudibr as de Ironside? Gone out of doors. Would he had ne'er come in them, I may wish. He has discredited my house, and board, With his rude swaggering manners, and endangered My Neices health (by drawing of his weapon) God knows how far; for Mr. Doctor does not. The Doctor is an Ass than, if he say so, And cannot with his conjuring names, Hypocrates; Galen or Rasis, Avicen. Averro, Cure a poor wenches falling in a swoon: Which a poor Farthing changed in Rosa solis, Or Cinnamon water would. How now? how does she? she's somewhat better. Mr. Item has brought her A little about.
nodes 1132–1200 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 21 of 45 in this edition
Length
479 words · 663 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T3 — Sickness, physic and doctorscross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.714 (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)
And they follow him. No, Sir Diaphanous is a Recuſant In ſack. He onely takes it in French wine, With an allay of water. In in, Item, And leave your peeping. I have a moneths mind, To peepe a little too. Sweet Mas' Needle, How are they ſet? At the boords end my Lady—. And my young Mrs. by her? Yes, the Parſon On the right hand (as hee'l not loſe his place For thruſting) and 'gainſt him Mrs. Poliſh: Next, Sir Diaphanous, againſt Sir Moath; Knights, one againe another: Then the Souldier, The man of warre, and man of peace the Lawyer: Then the port Doctor, and the politique Bias, And Mr. Compaſſe circumſcribeth all. Nurſe Keepe, nurſe Keepe! What noiſe is that within? Come to my Miſtris, all their weapons are out. Miſchiefe of men! what day, what houre is this? Run for the cellar of ſtrong waters, quickly. Were you a mad man to doe this at table? And trouble all the Gueſts, to affright the Ladies, And Gentlewomen? Pox upo' your women, And your halfe man there, Court-Sir Amber-gris: A perfum'd braggart: He muſt drinke his wine With three parts water; and have Amber in that too. And you muſt therefore breake his face with a Glaſſe, And waſh his noſe in wine. Cannot he drinke In Orthodoxe, but he muſt have his Gums, And Panym Drugs? You ſhould have us'd the Glaſſe Rather as ballance, then the ſword of Juſtice: But you have cut his face with it, he bleeds. Come you ſhall take your Sanctuary with me; The whole houſe will be up in armes 'gainſt you elſe, Within this halfe houre; this way to my lodging. A moſt rude action! carry her to her bed; And uſe the Fricace to her, with thoſe oyles. Keepe your newes Item now, and tend this buſines. Good Goſſip looke to her. How doe you ſweet charge? She's in a ſweat. I, and a faint ſweat mary. Let her alone to Tim: he has directions, Ile heare your newes Tim Item, when you ha' done. Was ever ſuch a Gueſt brought to my table? Theſe boiſtrous Souldiers ha' no better breeding. Here Mr. Compaſſe comes: where's your Captaine, Rudhudibr as de Ironſide? Gone out of doores. Would he had nere come in them, I may wiſh. He has diſcredited my houſe, and boord, With his rude ſwaggering manners, and endanger'd My Neices health (by drawing of his weapon) God knowes how farre; for Mr. Doctor does not. The Doctor is an Aſſe then, if hee ſay ſo, And cannot with his conjuring names, Hippocrates; Galen or Raſis, Avicen. Averroes, Cure a poore wenches falling in a ſwoune: Which a poore Farthing chang'd in Roſa ſolis, Or Cynnamon water would. How now? how does ſhe? Shee's ſomewhat better. Mr. Item has brought her A little about.