Peele, George · published 1593 · first performed or written 1591 [1590-1593] (Annals) history · Unknown T15 Friars and holy orders in plot typicality 0.91 · 474 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T15: friar, lord, holy, friars, robin, peggy, lacie, angelo, love, nun.
True man, true Friar, true priest, & true knave, These four in one this trull shall have, Here swear I by my shaven crown, Wench if I give thee a gay green gown, I'll take thee up as I laid thee down, And never bruise nor batter thee. O swear not master, flesh is frail, Wench when the sign is in the tail, Mighty is love and will prevail, This Churchman doth but flatter thee. A pretty worm, and a lusty friar, Made for the field, not for the choir. mas. Friar as I am true maid, So do I hold me well a paid: 'tis churchman's lay and verity, To live in love and charity, And therefore ween I as my creed, Your words shall company my deed, Davie my dear, I yield in all, Thine own to go and come at call. And so far forth begins our brawl. Then my Gwenthian to begin, Sith idleness in love is sin, Boy to the town I will thee hie, And so return even by and by, When thou with cakes and muscadine, And other junkets good and fine, Hast filled thy bottle and thy bag. Now master as I am true wag, I will be neither late nor lag, But go and come with gossip's cheer, Ere Gib our Cat can lick her care. For long ago I learned in school, That lovers desire, and pleasures cool: Sanct Ceres' sweets and Bacchus' vine, Now master for the Cakes and Wine. Wench to pass away the time in glee, Gwenthian set thee down by me, And let our lips and voices meet, In a merry country song. Friar, I am at beek and bay, And at thy commandment to sing and say, And other sports among. I marry my lord, this is somewhat like a man's money, here's a wholesome Welsh wench, Leapt in her Flannel as warm as wool, And as fit as a pudding for a friar's mouth. Pax vobis, pax vobis, good fellows fair fall ye. E cum spiritu tuo. friend's have you any thing else to say to the Friar? Much good do you, much good you, My masters heartelie. And you sir when ye eat: any thing else to say to the Friar? Nothing, but I would gladly know, If muttó be your first dish, what shallbe your last service. y bee s I count it physicke, To feed but on one dish at a sitting: Sir would you any thing else with the Friar? O nothing sir, but if you had any manners, You might bid us fall too. Nay and that be the matter good enough, Is this all ye have to say to the Friar? All we have to say to you sir, it may be sir, We would walk aside with your wench a little.
seed 43: T19 · seed 44: T20 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
True man, true Friar, true priest, & true knaue, These foure in one this trull shall haue, Heere sweare I by my shauen crowne, VVench if I giue thee a gay greene gowne, Ile take thee vp as I laid thee downe, And neuer bruze nor batter thee. O sweare not maister, flesh is fraile, VVenche when the signe is in the taile, Mightie is loue and will preuaile, This Churchman dooth but flatter thee. A prittie worme, and a lustie friar, Made for the field, not for the quire. Mas Friar as I am true maide, So do I hold me well a paide: Tis Churchmans laie and veritie, To liue in loue and charitie, And therefore weene I as my creede, Your wordes shall companie my deed, Dauie my deare, I yeeld in all, Thine owne to goe and come at call. And so farre foorth begins our braule. Then my Guenthian to begin, Sith idlenes in loue is sinne, Boie to the towne I will thee hie, And so returne euen by and by, VVhen thou with cakes and muskadine, And other unkets good and fine, Hast fild thy bottle and thy bagge. Now maister as I am true wag, I will be neither late nor lag, But goe and come with gossips cheere, Ere Gib our Cat can lick her care. For long agoe I learned in schoole, That louers desire, and pleasures coole: Sanct Ceres sweetes and Bacchus vine, Now maister for the Cakes and Wine. Wench to passe away the time in glee, Guenthian set thee downe by me, And let our lips and voices meete, In a merrie countrey songe. Friar, I am at beek and baye, And a thy commaundement to sing and say, And other sportes among. I marry my lord, this is somwhat like a mans'mony, Heeres a wholsome Welsh wench, Lapt in her Flannell as warme as wooll, And as fit as a pudding for a Friars mouthe. Pax vobis, pax vobis, good fellowes faire fall yee. E cum spiritu tuo. Friends haue you any thing els to say to the Friar? Much good doo you, much good you, My maisters heart elie. And you sir when yee eate: Hay ny thing els to say to the Friar? Nothing, but I wod gladly know, If be your first dish, what shalbe your last seruice. y bee s I count it physicke, To feede but on one dish at a sitting: Sir would you any thing els with the Friar? O nothing sir, but if you had any manners, You might bid vs fall too. Nay and that be the matter good enough, Is this all yee haue to say to the Friar? All we haue to say to you sir, it may be sir, We would walke aside with your wenche a little.