A Looking Glass for London and England · chunk 15 of 39
Lodge, Thomas / Greene, Robert · published 1594 · first performed or written 1588 [1587-1588] (Annals) biblical play; moral · Derby's (Strange's) Men T44 Drinking: wine, ale and taverns typicality 0.80 · 486 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T44: drink, wine, numps, ale, butler, pot, sing, moy, drunk, win.
But hearest thou fellow, who killed this man? I'll tell you sir, if you did taste of the Ale, all Niniveh hath not such a cup of Ale, it flowers in the cup sir, by my troth I spent eleven pence beside three races of ginger. Answer me knave to my question, how came this man slain? Slain, why Ale is strong Ale, 'tis hufcap, I warrant you 'twill make a man well, Tapster ho, for the King a cup of ale and a fresh toast, here's two races more. Why good fellow the King talks not of drink, he would have thee tell him how this man came dead. Dead nay, I think I am alive yet, and will drink a full pot ere night, but here ye, if ye be the wench that filled us drink, why so do your office, & give us a fresh pot, or if you be the Tapster's wife, why so, wash the glass clean. He is so drunk my Lord, there's no talking with him. Drunk, nay then wench I am not drunk, thart a shitten quean to call me drunk, I tell thee I am not drunk, I am a Smith I Sir here comes one perhaps that can tell. God save you master. Smith canst thou tell me how this man came dead? May it please your highness, my man here and a true of them went to the Alehouse, and came out so drunk that one of them killed another, and now sir, I am feign to leave my shop and come to fetch him home. Some of you carry away the dead body, drunken men must have their fits, and sirrah Smith hence with thy man. Sirrah you, rise come go with me. If we shall have a pot of Ale let's have it, here's money, hold Tapster take my purse. Come then with me, the pot stands full in the house. I am for you, let's go, thart an honest Tapster, we'll drink six pots ere we part. Beauteous, more bright than beauty in mine eyes, Tell me fair sweeting, wants thou any thing? Contained within the threefold circle of the world, That may make Aluida live full content. Nothing my Lord, for all my thoughts are pleased, When as mine eye surfeits with Rasnes sight. Look how thy husband haunts our royal Courts, How still his sight breeds melancholy storms, Oh Aluida I am passion passionate, And vexed with wrath and anger to the death, Mars when he held fair Venus on his knee, And saw the limping Smith come from his forge, Had not more deeper furrows in his brow, Then Rasni hath to see this Paphlagon. Content thee sweet, i'll salve thy sorrow strait, Rest but the ease of all thy thoughts on me, And if I make not Rasni blithe again, Then say that women's fancies have no shifts.
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)
But hearest thou fellow, who kild this man? Ile tell you sir, if you did taste of the Ale, all Niniuie hath not such a cup of Ale, it floures in the cup sir, by my troth I spent eleuen pence beside thrée rases of ginger. Answer me knaue to my question, how came this man slaine? Slain, why Ale is strong Ale, tis hufcap, I warrant you twill make a man well, Tapster ho, for the King a cup of ale and a fresh toast, heres two rases more. Why good fellow the King talkes not of drinke, he would haue thée tell him how this man came dead. Dead nay, I thinke I am aliue yet, and wil drink a ful pot ere night, but here ye, if ye be the wench that fild vs drink, why so do your office, & giue vs a fresh pot, or if you be the Tapsters wife, why so, wash the glasse cleane. He is so drunke my Lord, theres no talking with him. Drunke, nay then wench I am not drunke, thart a shitten queane to call me drunke, I tell thée I am not drunke, I am a Smith I. Sir here comes one perhaps that can tell. God saue you master. Smith canst thou tell me how this man came dead? May it please your highnesse, my man here and a true of them went to the Ale-house, and came out so drunke that one of them kild another, and now sir, I am faine to leaue my shop and come to fetch him home. Some of you carry away the dead bodie, drunken men must haue their fits, and sirrha Smith hence with thy man. Sirrha you, rise come go with me. If we shall haue a pot of Ale lets haue it, heres mony, hold Tapster take my purse. Come then with me, the pot stands full in the house. I am for you, lets go, thart an honest Tapster, weele drinke sixe pots ere we part. Beautious, more bright then beautie in mine eyes, Tell me faire swéeting, wants thou any thing? Conteind within the thréefold circle of the world, That may make Aluida liue full content. Nothing my Lord, for all my thoughts are pleasde, When as mine eye surfets with Rasnes sight. Looke how thy husband haunts our royall Courts, How still his sight bréeds melancholy stormes, Oh Aluida I am passion passionate, And vext with wrath and anger to the death, Mars when he held faire Venus on his knée, And saw the limping Smith come from his forge, Had not more déeper furrowes in his brow, Then Rasni hath to sée this Paphlagon. Content thée swéet, ile salue thy sorow straight, Rest but the ease of all thy thoughts on me, And if I make not Rasni blyth againe, Then say that womens fancies haue no shifts.