Whetstone, George · published 1578 · first performed or written 1578 [1576-1579] (Annals) comedy · Unacted unassigned nearest T47 Knaves, thieves and bawds · 490 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T47: knave, rogue, money, knaves, thief, rogues, pray, whore, nichol, book.
A dapper knave, one Rosko. Well letherface, we shall have you Ass ere you go. I know him not, is he a deafed barber? O, yea, why he is Mistress Lamia's powler. And look sirrah, yen is the little knave. How dost Rosko? Whope, my eye sight God save, What old Grimball, welcome, sit you down hear, Boy? Anon. Bay leaves in warm water, quick, bring clean gear, Straight. As thou saidst Grymball, this is a feat knave indeed. How say'syr? ointments for a scab▪ do you need? Scab, scurvy Iack, i'll set you a work Syr. Nay gog's foot, good now, no more of this stur. I faith Barber, I will pick your teeth strait. Nay, to pick my purse, I fear thou dost weight, Yea, gog's heart, Nay, gog's foot, Now come Ruffian. Leave, if you be men, Hear ye me now? be friends, and by my troth, Ihill spend a whole quart of Ale on you both. Well, mass Grimball, I little thought I was, You would a brought a knave, to vie me thus. Why, knowest him not? why it is lusty Rowke. A strong thief, I warrant him by his look. Go to Barber, no more, lest Copper you catch. What? wilt give thy nose away? beware that match. For chy see no Copper, unlest be there. Master, here is delicate water, & clean gear. Well, to quiet my house, and for Grimbals sake, If it pleaseth you, as friends, we hands will shake. I, I, do so: And for his sake I agree. Well then, that we may drink, straight ways wash me. Good sir, here's water as sweet as a Rose, Now whiles I wash, your eyes hard you must close. Thus? Harder yet: O, thus: Yea marry, so. How sirrah, you know what you have to do: Wink hard. Grimball. Yes, yes, I shall. hear's the tooth pick, and all. Depart then till I call? Very will sir, your face, is gaily clean, Were your teeth now picked, you may kiss a quean. Sayest thou me so? Good now dispatch and away? I even fyssell, until I smooch Dalia. O do you so? I am right glad you tell. I else had thought, 't'ad been your teeth did smell. O Lord, gog's foot, you pick me to the quick: Quiet yourself, your teeth are furred thick. O, o not more, O God, I spattell blood. I have done, spit out, this doth you much good: Boy? Anon. Bring the drink in the Porringer. To gargalis his teeth. It is here sir. Wash your feeths with this, good master Grimball. I am poisoned, ah, it is bitter gall: Eat these Comfyts, to sweeten your mouth with all. Yea marry sir, these are gay sugared gear. Their sweetness strait, will make you stink I fear: Well now, what must I pay, that chy were gone? What you will. Sayest me so? O cham undone.
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)
A dapper knaue, one Rosko. Well letherface, we ſhall haue you Aſſe ere you goe. I know him not, is he a deaft barber? O, yea, why he is Miſtris Lamias powler. And looke ſyrra, yen is the lyttell knaue. How doſt Rosko? Whope, my eye ſight God ſaue, What ould Grimball, welcome, ſit you downe heare, Boye? Anon. Bay leaues in warme water, quick, bring cleane geare, Strayght. As thou ſayd'ſt Grymball, this is a feate knaue indeede. How ſay'ſyr? oyntments for a ſcab▪ do you neede? Scab, ſcuruy Iack, ile ſet you a worke Syr. Nay gogs foote, good nowe, no more of this ſtur. I fayth Barber, I wyll pyck your teeth ſtraight. Nay, to pick my purſe, I feare thou doſt wayght, Yea, gogs hart, Nay, gogs foote, Nowe come Ruffen. Leaue, if you be men, Heare ye me nowe? be friendes, and by my trothe, Chill ſpende a whole quarte of Ale on you bothe. Well, maſſe Grimball, I lytle thought I wus, You woulde a brought a knaue, to vie mee thus. Why, knoweſt him not? why it is luſtie Rowke. A ſtrong theefe, I warrant him by his looke. Go to Barber, no more, leaſt Copper you catch. What? wilt giue thy noſe awaye? beware that match. For chy ſee no Copper, vnleſt be theare. Maſter, here is delicate water, & cleane geare. Well, to quiet my houſe, and for Grimbals ſake, If it pleaſeth you, as friendes, we handes will ſhake. I, I, do ſo: And for his ſake I agrée. Well then, that we may drinke, ſtraight wayes waſh mée. Good ſyr, here's water as ſweete as a Roſe, Nowe whyles I waſh, your eyes harde you muſt cloſe. Thus? Harder yet: O, thus: Yea marry, ſo. Howe ſyrra, you knowe what you haue to doe: Winke harde. Grimball. Yes, yes, I ſhall. Heare's the tooth pick, and all. Departe then tyll I call? Verie will ſyr, your face, is gayly cleane, Were your teeth nowe pickt, you maye kiſſe a queane. Sayſt thou mee ſo? Good nowe diſpatch and awaye? I euen fyſſell, vntyll I ſmouch Dalia. O doo you ſo? I am right glad you tell. I elſe had thought, tad bene your teethe dyd ſmell. O Lorde, gogs foote, you picke me to the quicke: Quiet your ſelfe, your teeth are furred thicke. O, oh no more, O God, I ſpattell blood. I haue done, ſpyt out, this doth you much good: Boye? Anon. Bring the drinke in the Porringer. To gargalis his teeth. It is here ſyr. Waſh your feeth with this, good maiſter Grimball. I am poyſoned, ah, it is bytter gall: Eate theſe Comfyts, to ſweeten your mouth with all. Yea mary ſyr, theſe are gay ſugred geare. Their ſweetneſſe ſtraight, wyll make you ſtinke I feare: VVell nowe, what muſt I paye, that chy were gone? VVhat you wyll. Sayeſt me ſo? O cham vndone.