Stevenson, William · published 1575 · first performed or written 1553 [c.1552-1563] (Annals) comedy · at University unassigned nearest T6 Money, debt and credit · 500 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T6: money, master, pound, law, lawyer, chain, gentleman, gold, pay, pray.
Now Iesus gammer gurton, what driveth you to this sadness I fear me by my conscience, you will sure fall to madness. Who is that, what Diccon, cham lost man: fie fie. Marry fie on them that be worthy, but what should be your trouble, Alas the more ich think on it, my sorrow it waxeth double My goodly tossing sporyars needle, chaveave lost ich wot not where. Your needle, when? My needle (alas) ich might full ill it spare, As god himself he knoweth near one beside chaveave. If this be all good gammer, I warrant you all is save. Why know you any tidings which way my needle is gone? Yea that I do doubtless, as ye shall here anon, A see a thing this matter toucheth, within these .xx. hours, Even at this gate, before my face, by a neighbour of yours, She stooped me down, and up she took a needle or a pin: I durst be sworn it was even yours, by all my mother's kin. It was my needle diccon ich wot, for here even by this post Ich sat, what time as ich up start, and so my needle it lost: Who was it lieve son? speak ich pray thee, & quickly tell me that? A subtle quean as any in this Town, (your neighbour here dame Chat. Dame chat diccon let me be gone, chil thither in post haste. Take my council yet or ye go, for fear ye walk in waste, It is a murrion crafty drab, and froward to be pleased. And ye take not the better way, our needle yet ye lose it: For when she took it up, even here before your doors What soft dame chat (quoth I) that same is none of yours avant (quoth she) sir knave, what pratest thou of that I find: I would that hadst kissed me I wot where: (she meant I know behind) And home she went as brag, as it had been a bodylouse, And I after as bold, as it had been, the goodman of the house: But there and ye had heard her, how she began to scold The tongue it went on patins, by him that Iudas sold, Each other word I was a knave, and you a boar of hores, Because I spoke in your behalf, and said the needle was yours, gog's bread, and thinks that callet thus to keep my needle me fro? Let her alone, and she minds none other but even to dress you so By the mass chil rather spend the coat that is on my back. Thinks the false quean by such a slygh, that chill my needle lack Sleep not you gear I counsel you, but of this take good heed Let not be known I told you of it, how well soever ye speed. Chil in Diccon a clean apron to take, and set before me, And ich may my needle once see, chil sure remember the
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)
¶Now Iesus gammer gurtō, what driueth you to this sadne I feare me by my conscience, you will sure fall to madnes. ¶ Who is that, what Diccon, cham lost man: fye fye. ¶ Mary fy on them yt be worthy, but what shuld be your troble, ¶Alas the more ich thinke on it, my sorow it waxeth doble My goodly tossing sporyars neele, chaue lost ich wot not where. ¶ Your neele, whan? ¶My neele (alas) ich myght full ill it spare, As god him selfe he knoweth nere one besde chaue. ¶If this be all good gammer, I warrant you all is saue. ¶ Why know you any tydings which way my neele is gone? ¶ Yea that I do doubtlesse, as ye shall here anone, A see a thing this matter toucheth, within these .xx. howres, Euen at this gate, before my face, by a neyghbour of yours, She stooped me downe, and vp she toke a nedle or a pyn: I durst be sworne it was euen yours, by all my mothrs kyn. ¶ It was my neele diccon ich wot, for here euen by pste Ich sat, what time as ich vp starte, and so my neele it loste: Who was it lee son? speke ich pray the, & quickly tell me that? ¶ A sttle queane as any in thys Towne, (your neyghboure here dame Chat. ¶ Dame chat diccon let me be gone, chil thyther in post hste. ¶ Take my councell yet or ye go, for feare ye walke in wast, It is a murrion crafty drab, and froward to be pleased. And ye take not the better way, our nedle yet ye lose it: For when she tooke it vp, euen here before your doores What soft dame chat (quoth I) that same is none yours Auant (quoth she) syr knaue, what pratest thou of that : I wold yt hadst kist me I wot whear: (she ment I know ) And home she went as brag, as it had ben a , And I after as bold, as it had ben, the goodman of the : But there and ye had hard her, how she began to scolde The tonge it went on patins, by hym that Iudas solde, Ech other worde I was a knaue, and you a bore of hores, Because I spake in your behalfe, and sayde the neele was yours, ¶Gogs bread, and thinks yt callet thus to kepe my neele me fro? ¶Let her alone, and she minds non other but euē to dresse you so ¶By the masse chil rather spend the cote that is on my backe. Thinks the false quean by such a slygh, that chill my neele lacke ¶Slepe not you gere I counsell you, but of this take good hede Let not be knowen I told you of it, how well soeuer ye spede. ¶ Chil in Diccon a cleene aperne to take, and set before me, And ich may my neele once see, chil sure remember the