The Three Lords and Three Ladies of London · chunk 6 of 41
Wilson, Robert · published 1590 · first performed or written 1588 [1588-1590] (Annals) moral · Queen Elizabeth's Men (?) unassigned nearest T47 Knaves, thieves and bawds · 518 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T47: knave, rogue, money, knaves, thief, rogues, pray, whore, nichol, book.
No, you may be maddle, coddle: well here's three passing fine lads, if a man were able to keep them all: let me see wealth, oh that's a sweet lad: then wit, oh that's a fine lad: Will, oh that's a pretty lad. Will, wit, and wealth, God lend ye health. I would I could guile their masters of two of them. If I had Fraud here that served Lady Lucre, he would teach me: he would teach me to 'tice one of them from his master: which of them now, if a man should steal one? will? Nay, I care not for will outsep he be good will: Wit, a pretty child, but a man can not live by wit: wealth, yea marry sir, I would I could win that wealth, for then I need neither will, nor wit, nor I need sell no Ballads but live like a mouse in a mill and have another to grind my meal for me, I'll have a fling at one of them anon. Do you not forget yourself gaffer. Have you not wares to sell gaffer? When do you show gaffer? Well remembered pretty lads, ye may see, children can teach old folks, I am an unthrift indeed: well, my wares shall out now. But sirs, how sell ye your wares, how many of these for a groat? Our wares are not to be sold. Not for silver nor gold? why hang they then in the open market? To be seen, not bought. Then they are like ripe plums upon a rich man's tree that set men's teeth a watering when they be not to be bought: but what call ye these things? Scutcheons. cushions, alas it were pity to sit on such fine cushions: but come my boys if you'll buy any of my wares, her's my stall, and I'll open and show straight. What dainty fine Ballad have you now to be sold? Marie child, I have chipping Norton a mile from Chapel oath heath, A lamentable ballad of burning the pope's dog: The sweet Ballad of the Lincolnshire bagpipes, And Peggy and Willy, But now he is dead and gone: Mine own sweet Willy is laid in his grave la, la, la, lan ti dan derry, dan da dan, lan ti dan, dan tan derry, dan do. It is a doleful discourse, and sung as dolefully. Why, you can not mend it, can ye? What will you lay on that? For I myself dare lay six groats to six of your bald Ballads, that you yourself shall say I sing better than you. What a brag boy is this to comparison with a man, but boy boy, I will not lay six Ballads to six groats, but I will lay six Ballads to six jerks at your buttocks, that you shall not sing so well as I. That I shall not? No, possible you will not let me sing. I not let you? Is that spoken like wit? It is spoken like a Woodcock, how can I stay thee if thou wilt sing out thy throat?
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)
No, you may be maddle, coddle: wel heres thrée passing fine lads, if a man were able to keep them all: let me see wealth, oh that's a swéet lad: then wit, oh that's a sine lad: Wil, oh that's a pretie lad. Wil, wit, and wealth, God lend yee health. I would I could guile heir maisters of two of them. If I had Fraud here that serued Lady Lucre, he would teach me: he would teach me to tice one of them from his maister: which of them now, if a man should steale one? wil? Nay, I care not for wil outsep he be good wil: VVit, a pretie child, but a man can not liue by wit: wealth, yea marie sir, I would I could win that wealth, for then I néed neither wil, nor wit, nor I need sell no Ballad but liue like a mouse in a mill and haue another to grinde my meal for me, Ile haue a fling at one of them anone. Do you not forget your selfe gaffar. Haue you not wares to sell gaffar? When doo you show gaffar? VVel remembred pretie lads, ye may sée, children can teach old folks, I am an vnthrift indeed: wel, my wares shall out now. But sir, how sell ye your wares, how many of these for a groat? Our wares are not to be sold. Not for siluer nor gold? why hang they then in the open market? To be seene, not bought. Then they are like ripe plummes vpon a rich mans trée that set mens téeth a watering when they be not to bee bought: but what call ye these things? Scutchions. Cushens, alas it were pittie to sit on such fine cuhens: but come my boies if you'il buy any of my wares, her's my stall, and Il open and show strait. What daintie fine Ballad haue you now to be sold? Marie child, I haue chipping Norton a mile from Chappell othe heath, A lamentable ballad of burning the Popes dog: The swéet Ballade of the Lincoln shire bagpipes, And Peggy and Willy, But now he is dead and gone: Mine own sweet Willy is laid in his graue la, la, la, lan ti dan derry, dan da dan, lan ti dan, dan tan derry, dan do. It is a dolefull discourse, and sung as dolefully. Why, you can not mend it, can ye? What wil you lay on that? For I my selfe dare lay six groats to six of your balde Ballades, that you your selfe shall say I sing better than you. What a brag boy is this to comparison with a man, but boy boy, I will not lay six Ballades to six groates, but I will lay six Ballades to six ierkes at your buttockes, that you shall not sing so well as I. That I shall not? No, possible you wil not let me sing. I not let you? Is that spoken like wit? It is spoken like a Woodcocke, how can I stay thee if thou wilt sing out thy throat?