Stevenson, William · published 1575 · first performed or written 1553 [c.1552-1563] (Annals) comedy · at University unassigned nearest T47 Knaves, thieves and bawds · 493 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T47: knave, rogue, money, knaves, thief, rogues, pray, whore, nichol, book.
Have I thy good old filth, or any such old sows? I am as true, I would thou knew, as skin between thy brows Many a truer hath been hanged, though you escape the danger Thou shalt answer by God's pity, for this thy foul slander. Why, what can ye charge her withal? to say so, ye do not well. Marry a vengeance to her heart, the whore hase stolen my needle. Thy needle old witch, how so? it were alms thy skull to knock So didst thou say, the other day, that I had stolen thy Cock And roasted him to my breakfast, which shall not be forgotten, The devil pull out thy lying tongue, and teeth that be so rotten. Give me my needle, as for my cock, chould be very loath That chuld here tell he should hang, on thy false faith and troth. Your talk is such, I can scarce learn who should be most in fault Yet shall ye find no other wight, save she, by bred & salt Keep ye content a while, see that your songs ye hold, methinks you should remember, this is no place to scold, How knowest thou gammer gurton, dame Chat thy needle had To name you sir the party, chould not be very glad. Yea but we must needs hear it, & therefore say it boldly. Such one as told the tale, full soberly and coldly, Even he that looked on, will swear on a book: What time this drunken gossip, my fair long needle up took Diccon (master) the Bedlam, cham very sure ye know him. A false knave by God's pity, ye were but a fool to trow him, I durst adventure well the price of my best cap, That when the end is known, all will turn to a jape, Told he not you that beside, she stole your Cock that tide? No master no indeed, for then he should have lied, My cock is I thank Christ, safe and well a fine. Yea but that ragged colt, that whore that tyb of thine Said plainly thy cock was stolen, & in my house was eaten, That lying cut is lost, that she is not swinged and beaten, And yet for all my good name, it were a small amends I pick not this gear (hearst thou) out of my finger's But he that hard it told me, who thou of late didst name Diccon whom all men knows, it was the very same. This is the case, you lost your needle about the doors And she answers again, she hase no cock of yours, Thus in you talk and Action, from that you do intend, She is whole five mile wide, from that she doth defend: Will you say she hath your Cock? No merry sir that chil not, Will you confess her needle? Will I? no sir will I not. Then there lieth all the matter.
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)
¶ Haue I thy good old filth, or any such old owes? I am as true, I wold thou knew, as skin betwene thy browes ¶ Many a truer hath bē hanged, though you escape the daunger ¶ Thou shalt answer by gods pity, for this thy foule slaunder. ¶ Why, what cā ye charge hir withal to say so, ye do not well. ¶ Mary a vēgeance to hir hart, y• whore hase stoln my neele. ¶ Thy nedle old witch, how so? it were alnes thy scul to knock So didst thou say, the other day, that I had stolne thy Cock And rosted him to my breakfast, which shal not be forgotten, The deuil pul out thy lying tong, and teeth that be so rotten. ¶Geue me my neele, as for my cocke, chould be very loth That chuld here tel he shuld hg, on thy false faith and troh. ¶ Your talke is such, I can arse learn who shuld be most in fult ¶Yt shal ye nd no other wight, saue e, by bred & salt ¶ Kepe ye content a while▪ se that your songes ye holde, Me thinkes you shuld remembre, this is no place to scolde▪ How knowest thou gāmer gurton, dame Chat thy nedle ¶ To name you sir the party, chould not be very glad. ¶Yea but we must nedes heare it, & therfore say it boldly. ¶ Such one as told the tale, full soberly and coldly, Euen he that loked on, wil sweare on a booke: What time this drunken goip, my faire ng neele vp tooke Diccon (master) the Bedlam, cham very sure ye know him. ¶ A false knaue by Gods pitie, ye were but a foole to trow him, I durst auenture wel the price of my bst cap, That when the end is knowen, all wil turne to a iape, Tolde he not you that besides, she stole your Cocke that tyde▪ ¶ No master no indede, for then he shuld haue lyed, My cocke is I thanke Christ, safe and wel a fine. ¶ Yea but that ragged colt, that whore that tyb of thine Said plainly thy cocke was stolne, & in my house was eaten, That lying cut is lost, that she is not swinged and beaten, And yet for al my good name, it were a small amendes I picke not this geare (hearst thou) out of my finger nde But he that hard it told me, who thou of late didst name Diccon whom al men knowes, it was the very same. ¶ This is the case, you lost your nedle about the dores And she answeres againe, she hase no cocke of yours, Thus in you talke and Action, from that you do intend, She is whole fiue mile wide, from that she doth defend: Will you saie she hath your Cocke? ¶ No mey sir that chil not, ¶ Will you confesse hir neele? ¶ Will Io si will I not. ¶ Then there lieth all the matter.