Whetstone, George · published 1578 · first performed or written 1578 [1576-1579] (Annals) comedy · Unacted unassigned nearest T41 Household service: masters, doors and po · 498 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T41: master, house, door, iohn, old, mistress, basket, lord, gentleman, ick.
Soft Dalia, a word with you, I pray. What friend, Grimbal, welcome as I may say: Sayest thou me so, then kiss me for acquaintance. If I like your manhood, I may do so perchance. Bate me an ace, quoth Boulton, Tush, your mind I know: Ah sir, you would, be like, let my Cock Sparrows go. I warrant thee Grimball. Say off hands Dalia. You powte me, if that you got, my Pudding away: Nay good sweet, honey Grimball, this Pudding give me. Iche were as good geetes her, for she will hate, I see. Well, my noun good heart root, I freely give thee this, Upon condition, that thou give me a kiss. Nay, but first wash your lips, with sweet water you shall, Why ych was rite now, for my Pudding, honey sweet Grimbal: Well Dalia, you will flout so long, till (though I say) With kindness you will cast a proper handsome man away, Wherefore soot Conny, even a little spurt: Say off hands Sir: Good do not bite, for ych mean thee no hurt: Come off Pyggesnie, prefer me not a jot, What would the good fool have, Why, you wot hot. Hark in your ear: You shall command, so proper a man ye are. That for your sake, I will not stick to ware: A blue Cassock, during my life for sooth, Marry for my sake, I would be very loath: So goodly a handsome man, should loose his head. Nay, for my head, care not a Tinkers turd, For so God judge me, and at one bore word: Isle loose my death, yea, and my great brown Cow, I love you so filthily: law ye now. Thou sayest valiantly, now sing, aswell too: And thou shalt quickly know, what I mean to do. Yes by God's foot, to pleasure thee, ych shall, Both sing, spring, fight and play, the dewl and all. O lustily: Come smack me, come smack me, I long for asmuch, Go pack thee, go pack thee, thou filthy fine slouch. Leard how I love thee, This can not move me: Why pretty Pygsney, my heart, and my honey? Because goodman Hogsface, you woe without money. I lack money, chy grant, Then Grimball avaunt. Chamyoung sweet heart, and feat, come kiss me for love, Crokeshanke, your jowl is to great, such liking to move. What mean you by this? To leave thee by gys. First smack me, first smack, I die for asmuch, Go pack thee, go pack thee, thou filthy fine slouch. Dalia, art thou gone? what wilt serve me so? O God, cham ready to ray myself for woe: Be valiant Grimball, kill thyself man? Nay, hum Lady, I will not by Saint Anne. Ich have beard my great Grandsire say: Maid will say nay, and take it: and so she may, And therefore i'll, to Mistress Lamia, With these Puddings, and Cock sparrows, by and by: And in the dark, again, ych will her try.
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)
Softe Dalia, a woorde with you, I praye. What friend, Grimbal, welcome as I maye ſaye: Sayſt thou me ſo, then kyſſe me for acquaintaunce. If I lyke your manhoode, I may do ſo perchaunce. Bate me an aſe, quoth Boulton, Tuſh, your minde I know: Ah ſyr, you would, be like, let my Cocke Sparrowes goe. I warrant thee Grimball. Laye off handes Dalia. You powte me, if that you got, my Pudding awaye: Nay good ſweete, honny Grimball, this Pudding giue mée. Iche were as good geete hir, for ſhe wyll hate, I ſee. Well, my nown good harte roote, I freelie giue thee this, Vpon condition, that thou giue me a kys. Nay, but firſt waſh your lippes, with ſweete water you ſhall, Why ych was ryte now, for my Pudding, hony ſweet Grimbal: Well Dalia, you will floute ſo long, tyll (though I ſaye) With kindneſſe you wyll caſt a proper handſome man away, VVherfore ſoote Conny, euen a lyttle ſpurte: Laye off handes Sir: Good do not byte, for ych meane thee no hurte: Come off Pyggeſnie, prefarre me not a iote, VVhat woulde the good foole haue, VVhy, you woot whote. Hearke in your eare: You ſhall commaunde, ſo proper a man ye are. That for your ſake, I wyll not ſticke to ware: A blew Caſſocke, during my lyfe for ſoothe, Mary for my ſake, I woulde be verie lothe: So goodlie a handſome man, ſhould loſe his head. Nay, for my head, care not a Tinkers torde, For ſo God iudge me, and at one bare worde: Yle loſe my death, yea, and my great browne Cowe, I loue you ſo filthilie: law ye nowe. Thou ſayeſt valiantlie, nowe ſing, aſwell too: And thou ſhalt quicklie knowe, what I meane to doo. Yes by Gogs foote, to pleaſure thee, ych ſhall, Both ſyng, ſpring, fight and playe, the dewl and all. O luſtilie: Come ſmack me, come ſmack me, I long for a ſmouch, Go pack thee, go pack thee, thou filthie fine ſlouch. Leard howe I loue thee, This can not moue mee: Why pretie Pygſney, my harte, and my honny? Becauſe goodman Hogsface, you woe without mony. I lacke mony, chy graunt, Then Grimball auaunt. Cham yong ſweete hart, and feate, come kyſſe me for loue, Crokeſhanke, your Iowle is to great, ſuch lyking to moue. What meane you by this? To leaue thee by gys. Firſt ſmack me, firſt ſmack, I dye for a ſmouch, Go pack thee, go pack thee, thou filthy fine ſlouch. Dalia, arte thou gone? what wolt ſerue me ſoe? O God, cham readie to raye my ſelfe for woe: Be valiaunt Grimball, kyll thy ſelfe man? Nay, hum Ladie, I will not by Saint Anne. Ich haue bearde my great Grandſier ſaye: Maide will ſaye naye, and take it: and ſo ſhe maye, And therfore chyll, to Miſtreſſe Lamia, With theſe Puddings, and Cock Sparowes, by and by: And in the darke, againe, ych wyll hir trye.