Lyly, John · published 1594 · first performed or written 1591 [1587-1591] (Annals) comedy · Children of Paul's (first) T51 Parents and children: blessing, birthrig typicality 0.83 · 477 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T51: esau, iacob, father, son, isaac, god, love, birthright, parents, thing.
BOY, there are three things that make my life miserable, a thread bare purse, a cursed wife, & a fool to my heir. Dromio. Why then sir, there are three medicines for these three maladies: a pikestaff to take a purse on the high way, a holy wand to brush choler from my mistress tongue, and a young wench for my young master: so that as your Worship being wise begot a fool, so he being a fool may tread out a wise man. ay but Dromio, these medicines bite hot on great mischiefs, for so might I have a rope about my neck, horns upon my head, and in my house a litter of fools. Then sir you had best let some wise man sit on your son, to hatch him a good wit: they say, if ravens sit on hens eggs the chickens will be black, and so forth. Why boy, my son is out of the shell, and is grown a pretty cock. Carve him master, & make him a capon, else all your breed will prove coxcombs. I marvel he is such an ass, he takes it not of his father. He may for any thing you know. Why villain dost thou think me a fool? O no sir, neither are you sure that you are his father. Rascal, dost thou imagine thy mistress nought of her body? No, but fantastical of her mind, and it may be, when this boy was begotten she thought of a fool, & so conceived a fool, yourself being very wise, and she surpassing honest. It may be, for I have heard of an Aethiopian, that thinking of a fair picture, brought forth a fair lady, and yet no bastard. You are well read sir, your son may be a bastard and yet legitimate, yourself a cuckold, & yet my mistress virtuous, all this in conceit. Come Dromio, it is my grief to have such a son that must inherit my lands. He needs not sir, I'll beg him for a fool. Vile boy, thy young master? Let me have in a device. I'll have thy advice, and if it fadge, thou shalt eat, thou shalt sweat, play till thou sleep, and sleep till thy bones ache. I marry, now you tickle me, I am both hungry, gamesome, & sleepy, and all at once, I'll break this head against the wall but I'll make it bleed good matter. Then this it is, thou knowest I have but one son, and he is a fool. A monstrous fool. A wife and she an errand scold. Ah master I smell your device, it will be excellent. Thou canst not know it till I tell it. I see it through your brains, your hair is so thin, and your skull so transparent, I may sooner see it than hear it.
seed 43: T48 · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
BOY, there are three thinges that make my life miserable, a threed bare purse, a curst wife, & a foole to my heire. Dromio. Why then sir, there are three medicines for these three malaladies: a pike-staffe to take a purse on the high way, a holy wand to brush cholar frō my mistres tong, and a young wench for my yong master: so that as your Worship being wise begot a foole, so he beeing a foole may tread out a wise man. I but Dromio, these medicines bite hot on great mischiefs, for so might I haue a rope about my necke, hornes vpon my head, and in my house a litter of fooles. Then sir you had best let some wise man sit on your sonne, to hatch him a good wit: they saie, if rauens sit on hens egs the chickens will be black, and so forth. Why boy, my sonne is out of the shell, and is growen a pretie cocke. Carue him master, & make him a capon, els all your breed will proue cockescombes. I maruell he is such an asse, hee takes it not of his father. He may for anie thing you know. Why villain dost thou think me a foole? O no sir, neither are you sure that you are his father. Rascall, doest thou imagine thy mistres naught of her bodie? No, but fantasticall of her mind, and it may be, when this boy was begotten shee thought of a foole, & so conceiued a foole, your selfe beeing verie wise, and she surpassing honest. It may be, for I haue heard of an Aethiopian, that thinking of a faire picture, brought forth a faire ladie, and yet no bastard. You are well read sir, your sonne may be a bastard and yet legitimate, your selfe a cuckold, & yet my mistres vertuous, all this in conceit. Come Dromio, it is my grief to haue such a sonne that must inherit my lands. He needs not sir, Ile beg him for a foole. Vile boy, thy yong master? Let me haue in a deuice. Ile haue thy aduice, and if it fadge, thou shalt eate, thou shalt sweate, play till thou sleep, and sleepe till thy bones ake. I marie, now you tickle me, I am both hungrie, gamesome, & sleepie, and all at once, Ile breake this head against the wal but Ile make it bleed good matter. Then this it is, thou knowest I haue but one sonne, and he is a foole. A monstrous foole. A wife and she an arrand scold. Ah master I smell your deuice, it will be excellent. Thou canst not know it till I tell it. I see it through your braines, your haire is so thin, and your scull so transparant, I may sooner see it than heare it.