Stevenson, William · published 1575 · first performed or written 1553 [c.1552-1563] (Annals) comedy · at University unassigned nearest T47 Knaves, thieves and bawds · 486 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T47: knave, rogue, money, knaves, thief, rogues, pray, whore, nichol, book.
Where didst thou find him boy was he not where I told thea? Yes, yes even at hobfilchers house, by him that bought and sold me A cup of ale had in his hand, and a crab lay in the fire, Chad much ado to go and come, all was so full of mire: And Gammer one thing I can tell, Hobfilcher's naule was lost And Doctor Rat found it again, hard beside the door post, I chould a penny can say something, your needle again to fet. Cham glad to hear so much Cock, then trust he will not let, To help us herein best he can therefore till time he come A Man were better twenty times be a bandog & bark. Then here among such a sort, be parish priest or clerk Where he shall never be at rest, one pissing while a day But he must trudge about the town, this way, and that way, Here to a drab, there to a thief, his shoes to tear and rent And that which is worst of all, at every knaves commandment I had not sit the space, to drink two pots of ale But Gammer Gurton's sorry boy, was strait way at my tail, And she was sick, and I must come, to do I wot not what, If once her finger's end but ache, trudge, call for Doctor Rat And when I come not at their call, I only thereby lose, For I am sure to lack therefore, a tithe pig or a goose: I warrant you when truth is known, & told they have their tale The matter where about I come, is not worth a half penny worth of ale, Yet must I talk so sage and smooth, as though I were a glozer Else or the year come at an end. I shallbe sure the loser. What work ye gammer gurton? how here is your friend M. Rat. A good M. Doctor cha troubled, cha troubled you, chwot well that How do ye woman: be ye lusty, or be ye not well at ease: By gys master cham not sich, but yet chaveave a disease. Chad a foul turn now of late, chill tell it you by gigs. Hath your brown cow cast her calf, or your sandy sow her pigs No, but chad been as good they had, as this ich wot we'll. What is the matter Alas, alas, cha lost my good needle, My necle I say, and wot ye what: a drab came by and spied it And when I asked her for the same, the filth flatly deemed it. What was she that: A dame ich warrant you she began to scold and brawl Alas, alas, come hither Hodge: this wriche can tell you all. vs heare. Thy dame hath said to me, thou knowest of all this gear, Let's see what thou canst say.
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)
¶ Where didst thou find him boy was he not wher I told thea? ¶ Yes, yes euen at hobilchers house, by him yt bought and solde me A cup of ale had in his hand, and a crab lay in the fyer, Chd much a do to go and come, al was so ful of myer: And Gammer one thing I can tel, Hobfilchers naule was loste And Doctor Rat found it againe, hard beside the doore poste, I chould a pnny can say something, your neele againe to fet. Cham glad to heare so much Cocke, then trust he wil not let, To helpe vs herein best he can therfore tyl time he come A Man were better twenty times be a bandog & barke. Then here among such a sort, be parish priest or clarke Where he shal neuer be at rest, one pissing while a day But he must trudge about the towne, this way, and that way, Here to a drab, there to a theefe, his shoes to teare and rent And that which is worst of al, at euery knaues commaundemēt I had not sit the space, to drinke two pots of ale But Gammer gurtons sory boy, was straite way at my taile, And she was sicke, and I must come, to do I wot not what, If once her fingers end but ake, trudge, call for Doctor Rat And when I come not at their call, I only therby looe, For I am sure to lacke therfore, a tythe pyg or a goose: I warrāt you whē truth is knowen, & told they haue their tale The matter where about I come, is not worth a half peny worth of ale, Yet must I talke so sage and smothe, as though I were a gloser Els or the yere come at an end. I shalbe sure the loser. What worke ye gāmer gurtō? hoow here is your frēd M. Rat. ¶ A good M. Doctor cha trobled, cha trobled you, chwot wel hat ¶ How do ye woman: be ye lusie, or be ye not wel at ease: ¶ By gys master cham not , but yet chaue a disease. Chad a foule turne now of late, chill tell it you by gigs. ¶ Hach your browne cow cast hir calfe, or your sandy sowe her pigs ¶ No, but chad ben as good they had, as this ich wot weel. ¶ What is the matter ¶ Alas, alas, cha lost my good neele, My necle I say, and wot ye wht: a drab came by and spied it And when I asked hir sor the same, the sth flatly demed it. ¶ What was she that: ¶ A dame ich warrant you she began to scold and brawl Alas, ala, come hether Hodge: this wriche can tell you all. vs heare. Thy dame hath sayd to me, thou knwest of all this geare, Lets see what thou canst saie.