Lyly, John · published 1594 · first performed or written 1591 [1587-1591] (Annals) comedy · Children of Paul's (first) T28 Marriage-making: weddings, brides and ma typicality 0.75 · 482 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T28: married, marriage, wedding, day, bride, father, wife, luce, love, husband.
In studying to be overnatural thou art like to be unnatural, and all about a natural: thou shalt be eased of a charge if thou thy conscience discharge, and this I commit to thy charge. Thou hast touched me to the quick mother, I understand thy meaning, and thou well knowest my practice, I will follow thy counsel. But what will be the end? Thou shalt know before this day end, farewell. Now I perceive I must either bewray a mischief, or suffer a continual inconvenience, I must haste homewards, and resolve to make all whole, better a little shame than an infinite grief, the strangeness will abate the fault, and the bewraying wipe it clean away. Come fellows, 'tis almost day, let us have a fit of mirth at Sperantus' door, and give a song to the bride. I believe they are asleep, it were pity to awake them. 'twere a shame they should sleep the first night. But who can tell at which house they lie, at Prisius it may be, we'll try both. Come let's draw like men. Now, tune, tune I say, that boy I think will never profit in his faculty, he loses his rosin, that his fiddle goes cush, cush, like as one should go wet-shod, and his mouth so dry, that he hath not spital for his pin as I have. marry sir you see I go wet-shod and dry mouthed, for yet could I never get new shoes or good drink, rather than I'll lead this life, I throw my fiddle into the leads for a hobbler. Boy, no more words, there's a time for all things though I say it that should not, I have been a minstrel these thirty years, and tickled more strings than thou hast hairs, but yet was never so misused. Let us not brabble but play, tomorrow is a new day. I am sorry I speak in your cast, what shall we sing? The love knot, for that's best for a bridal. Sing. God morrow fair bride, and send you joy of your bridal. What a mischief make the twanglers here? we have no trenchers to scrape, it makes my teeth on edge to hear such grating. Get you packing, or I'll make you wear double stocks, and yet you shall be never the warmer. We come for good will, to bid the bride and bride groom, God give them joy. Hers no wedding. Yes your son and Prisius' daughter were married, though you seem strange, yet they repent it not I am sure. My son villain, I had rather he were fairly hanged. So he is sir, you have your wish. Here fiddlers take this and not a word, here is no wedding, it was at Memphio's house, yet gramercy, your music though it missed the house hit the mind, we were a preparing our wedding gear.
seed 43: T6 · seed 44: T7 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
In studying to be ouernaturall thou art like to be vnnaturall, and all about a naturall: thou shalt bee eased of a charge if thou thy conscience discharge, and this I commit to thy charge. Thou hast toucht mee to the quicke mother, I vnderstand thy meaning, and thou wll knowest my practise, I will follow thy counsell. But what wyll bee the end? Thou shalt know before this daie end, farewel. Nowe I perceiue I must either bewraie a mischiefe, or suffer a continual inconuenience, I must hast homewardes, and resolue to make all whole, better a little shame than an infinite griefe, the strangenes will abate the faulte, and the bewraying wipe it cleane away. Come fellowes, tis almost daie, let vs haue a fit of mirth at Sperantus doore, and giue a song to the bride. I beleeue they are asleepe, it were pittie to awake them. Twere a shame they shoulde sleepe the first night. But who can tell at which house they lie, at Prisius it may be, weele trie both. Come lets drawe lyke men. Now, tune, tune I saie, that boy I thinke will neuer profit in his facultie, he looses his rosen, that his fiddle goes cush, cush, lyke as one should go wetshod, and his mouth so drie, that he hath not spittle for his pinne as I haue. Mary sir you see I go wetshod and dry mouthd, for yet could I neuer get newe shooes or good drinke, rather than Ile leade this life, I throw my fiddle into the leads for a obler. Boy, no more words, theres a time for al things though I say it that should not, I haue bene a minstrell these thirtie yeeres, and tickled more strings than thou hast haires, but yet was neuer so misused. Let vs not brabble but play, to morrow is a new daie. I am sorrie I speake in your cast, what shall wee sing? The loue knot, for thats best for a bridall. Sing. God morow fayre bride, and send you ioy of your bridall. What a mischiefe make the twanglers here? we haue no trenchers to scrape, it makes my teeth on edge to heare such grating. Get you packing, or Ile make you weare double stockes, and yet you shall bee neuer the warmer. We come for good will, to bidd the bride and bride groome, God giue them ioy. Hers no wedding. Yes your sonne and Prisius daughter were maryed, though you seeme strange, yet they repent it not I am sure. My sonne villaine, I had rather hee were fairely hanged. So he is sir, you haue your wish. Here fidlers take this and not a worde, heere is no wedding, it was at Memphios house, yet gramercy, your musicke though it mist the house hit the minde, we were a preparing our wedding geare.