Jonson, Ben · published 1640 · first performed or written 1633 [licensed for stage, May 7] (Annals) comedy · Queen Henrietta Maria's Men T30 Constables, justices and the watch typicality 0.59 · 531 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T30: constable, squire, tub, clay, worship, justice, turf, mr, hun, valentine.
You take up ' dority still, to vouch against me. All the twelve smocks i'the house, zur, are your Authors. Get some fresh hay than, to lay underfoot: Some Holly and Ivy, to make vine the posts: Is't not Son Valentine's day? and Mistress Audrey, Your young Dame to be married? I wonder Clay Should be so tedious: he's to play Son Valentine! And the Clown sluggard's not come fro' Kilborne yet? Do you call your Son i' Law Clown, and't please your worship? Yes, and vor worship too; my neighbour Medlay. A Midlesex Clowns and one of Finsbury: They were the first Colon's o' the kingdom here: The Primitory Colon's; my D'ogenes says. Where's D'ogenes, my Writer now? What were those You told me, D'ogenes, were the first Colon's O' the Country? that the Romans brought in here? The Coloni. Sir, Colonus is an Inhabitant: A Clown original: as you'd zay a Farmer, a tiler o'th' Earth, E'er sin ' the Romans planted their Colony first, Which was in Midlesex. Why so, I thank you hearty, good D'ogenes, you ha' zertified me. I had rather be an ancient Colon, (as they zay) a Clown of Midlesex: A good rich Farmer, or high Constable. I'd play hun ' gain a Knight, or a good Squire; Or Gentleman of any other County I' the Kingdom. Out cept Kent, for there they landed All Gentlemen, and came in with the Conqueror, Mad Iulius Caesar; who built Dover-Castle: My Ancestor To Pan, beaten the first Ketle-drum, Avore ' hun, here urom Dover on the March: Which piece of monumental copper hangs Up, scoured, at Hammersmith yet; for there they came Over the Thames, at a low water mark; Vore either London, I, or Kingston Bridge— I doubt were kursind. Zee, who is here: Iohn Clay● Son Valentine, and Bridegroom! ha you zeene Your Valentine-Bride yet, sin ' you came? Iohn Clay? Not wiss. I lighted, I, but now i' the yard: Puppy ha' scarce unswadled my legs yet. What? wispes'o ' your wedding day, son? This is right Originous Clay: and Clay o' Kilborne too! I would ha' had boots o' this day, zure, son Iohn. I did it to save charges: we must dance, O this day, zure: and who can dance in boots? Not, I got on my best straw-coloured stockings, And swaddeld 'em over to save charges; I. And his new chamois Doublet too with points; I like that yet: and his long sawsedge-hose, Like the Commander of four smoking Tile-kils, Which he is Captain of; Captain of Kilborne: Clay with his hat turned up, o' the leer side, too: As if he would leap my Daughter yet ere night, And spring a new Turf to the old house: Look, and the wenches ha' not vound un out; And do parzent un, with a van of Rosemary, And Bays; to vill a Bow-pot, trim the head Of my best vore-horse: we shall all ha' Bridelaces, Or points, I zee; my Daughter will be valiant; And prove a very Mary Anbry i' the business. They zaid, your worship had served her to Squire Tub Of Totten-Court here; all the hundred rings on't.
seed 43: T36 · seed 44: T35 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
You take up 'dority ſtill, to vouch againſt me. All the twelve ſmocks i'the houſe, zur, are your Authors. Get ſome freſh hay then, to lay underfoot: Some Holly and Ivie, to make vine the poſts: Is't not Sonne Valentines day? and Mrs. Awdrey, Your young Dame to be married? I wonder Clay Should be ſo tedious: Hee's to play Sonne Valentine! And the Clowne ſluggard's not come fro' Kilborne yet? Do you call your Son i' Law Clowne, and't pleaſe your worſhip? Yes, and vor worſhip too; my neighbour Medlay. A Midleſex Clown and one of Finsbury: They were the firſt Colon's o' the kingdome here: The Primitory Colon's; my D'ogenes ſayes. Where's D'ogenes, my Writer now? What were thoſe You told me, D'ogenes, were the firſt Colon's O' the Countrey? that the Romans brought in here? The Coloni. Sir, Colonus is an Inhabitant: A Clowne originall: as you'ld zay a Farmer, a Tiller o'th' Earth, Ere ſin' the Romans planted their Colonie firſt, Which was in Midleſex. Why ſo, I thanke you heartily, good D'ogenes, you ha' zertified me. I had rather be an ancient Colon, (as they zay) a Clowne of Midleſex: A good rich Farmer, or high Conſtable. I'ld play hun 'gaine a Knight, or a good Squire; Or Gentleman of any other Countie I' the Kindome. Out cept Kent, for there they landed All Gentlemen, and came in with the Conquerour, Mad Iulius Caeſar; who built Dover-Caſtle: My Anceſtor To Pan, beat the firſt Ketle-drum, Avore 'hun, here vrom Dover on the March: Which peice of monumentall copper hangs Vp, ſcourd, at Hammer-ſmith yet; for there they came Over the Thames, at a low water marke; Vore either London, I, or Kingſton Bridge— I doubt were kurſind. Zee, who is here: Iohn Clay Zonne Valentine, and Bride-groome! ha' you zeene Your Valentine-Bride yet, ſin' you came? Iohn Clay? No wuſſe. Che lighted, I, but now i' the yard: Puppy ha' ſcarce unſwadled my legges yet. What? wiſpes'o' your wedding day, zonne? This is right Originous Clay: and Clay o' Kilborne too! I would ha' had bootes o' this day, zure, zonne Iohn. I did it to ſave charges: we mun dance, O this day, zure: and who can dance in boots? No, I got on my beſt ſtraw-coloured ſtockins, And ſwaddeld 'hem over to zave charges; I. And his new ſhamois Doublet too with points; I like that yet: and his long ſawſedge-hoſe, Like the Commander of foure ſmoaking Tile-kils, Which he is Captaine of; Captaine of Kilborne: Clay with his hat turn'd up, o' the leere ſide, too: As if he would leape my Daughter yet ere night, And ſpring a new Turfe to the old houſe: Looke, and the wenches ha' not vound un out; And doe parzent un, with a van of Roſemary, And Bayes; to vill a Bow-pot, trim the head Of my beſt vore-horſe: wee ſhall all ha' Bride-laces, Or points, I zee; my Daughter will be valiant; And prove a very Mary Anbry i' the buſines. They zaid, your worſhip had ſur'd her to Squire Tub Of Totten-Court here; all the hundred rings on't.