Heywood, John · published 1544 · first performed or written 1528 [1519-1528] (Annals) comedy unassigned nearest T37 Riches, poverty and covetousness · 501 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T37: wealth, riches, money, god, rich, poverty, men, learning, poor, ic.
On my faith I think the moon be at the full For frantic tansyes be then most plenty full Which are at the pride of their spring in your head So far from our matter he is now fled As for the wind in any instrument It is no parcel of our argument We spoke of wind that cometh naturally And that is wind forced artyfycyally Which is not to purpose but if it were And water indeed right nought could do there Yet I think organs no such commodity Whereby the water should banished be And for your bagpyppes I take them as nyfuls Your matter is all in fancies and tryfuls. By god but ye shall not tryfull me of so If these things serve not I will rehearse more And now to mind there is an old proverb come One bushel of marche dust is worth a kings ransom What is a hundredth thousand bushels worth than. not one mite for the thing self to no man. Why shall wind every where thus be object Nay in the high ways he shall take a effect Where as the rain doth never good but hurt For wind maketh but dust and water maketh dirt Powder or syrup sir which lick ye best Who licketh not the tone may lick up the rest But sure who ever hath assayed such syppes Had liefer have dusty eyes then dirty lips And it is said sins afore we were borne That drught doth never make dearth of corn And well it is known to the most fool here How rain hath pryced corn within thy. vii. year. Sir I pray the spare me a lyteell season And I shall privily conclude the with reason Put case on summer's day without wind to be And ragious wind in winter days two or three Much more shall dry that one calm day in summer Then shall those three windy days in winter Whom shall we thank for this when all is done The thank to wind nay thank chiefly the son And so for drought of corn thereby encres The son doth comfort and ripe all doubtless And oft the wind so layeth the corn god wots That never after can it ripe but rot If drought took place as ye say yet may ye see little helpeth the wind in this commodity But now sir I deny your principal If drought ever were it were impossybyll To have any grain for, or it can grow Ye must plough your land harro we and sow Which will not be except ye may have rain To temper the ground and after again For springing and pluming all manner corn Yet must ye have water or all is forlorn If ye take water for no commodity Yet must ye take it for things of necessity For washing for showering all filth cleansing Where water lacketh what bestly being In brewing, in baking, in dressing of meat
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)
¶On my fayth I thynke the moone be at the full For franty ke tanſyes be then moſte plente full Whiche are at the pryde of theyr ſprynge in your hed So farre from our mater he is nowe fled As for the wynde in any inſtrumente It is no percell of our argumente We ſpake of wynde that cometh naturally And that is wynde forcyd artyfycyally Whiche is nat to purpoſe but yf it were And water indede ryght nought coulde do there Yet I thynke organs no ſuche comodite Wherby the water ſhulde banyſhed be And for your bagpyppes I take them as nyfuls Your mater is all in fanſyes and tryfuls. ☜By god but ye ſhall nat tryfull me of ſo Yf theſe thynges ſerue nat I wyll reherſe mo And nowe to mynde there is an olde prouerbe come One buſhell of marche duſt is worth a kynges raunſome What is a hundreth thouſande buſhels worthe than. ¶Nat one myte for the thynge ſelfe to no man. ¶Why ſhall wynde euery where thus be obiecte Nay in the hye wayes he ſhall take a effecte Where as the rayne doth neuer good but hurt For wynde maketh but duſt and water maketh durt Pouder or ſyrop ſyr which lycke ye beſte Who lycketh nat the tone may lycke vp the reſte But ſure who euer hath aſſayed ſuche ſyppes Had leuer haue duſty eyes then durty lyppes And it is ſayde ſyns afore we were borne That drught doth neuer make derth of corne And well it is knowen to the moſte foole here Howe rayne hath pryced corne within thi. vii. yere. ❧Syr I pray the ſpare me a lyteell ſeaſon And I ſhall preuely conclude the with reaſon Put caſe on ſomers day without wynde to be And ragious wynde in wynter dayes two or thre Muche more ſhall dry that one calme day in ſomer Then ſhall thoſe thre wyndy dayes in winter Whom ſhall we thanke for this when all is done The thanke to wynde nay thanke chyefly the ſon And ſo for drought of corne therby encres The ſon doth comfort and rype all doutles And oft the wynde ſo leyth the corne god wot That neuer after can it rype but rotte If drought toke place as ye ſay yet may ye ſe Lytell helpeth the wynde in this commoditie But nowe ſyr I denye your pryncypall If drought euer were it were impoſſybyll To haue any grayne for, or it can growe Ye muſt plowe your lande harro we and ſowe Which wyll not be excepte ye may haue rayne To temper the grounde and after agayne For ſpringyng and plumynge all maner corne Yet muſt ye haue water or all is forlorne If ye take water for no commoditie Yet muſt ye take it for thynges of neceſſitie For waſhynge for ſhowrynge all fylth clenſynge Where water lacketh what beſtly beynge In brewynge, in bakynge, in dreſſynge of meate