Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1597 [c.1596-1597] (Annals) history · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men unassigned nearest T47 Knaves, thieves and bawds · 469 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T47: knave, rogue, money, knaves, thief, rogues, pray, whore, nichol, book.
a plague light vpon you all. Giue my Horse you give me my Horse, and be hanged. Peace ye fat guts, lie down, lay thine ear close to the ground, and list if thou can hear the tread of travelers. Have you any Levers to lift me up again being down? I'll not bear mine own flesh so far afoot again, for all the coin in thy Father's Exchequer. What a plague mean ye to colt me thus? Thou liest, thou art not colted, thou art uncolted. I prithee good Prince Hal, help me to my horse, good King's son. Out you Rogue, shall I be your Ostler? Go hang thyself in thine own heire-apparant-Garters: If I be ta'en, I'll peach for this: and I have not Ballads made on all, and sung to filthy tunes, let a Cup of Sack be my poison: when a jest is so forward, & a foot too, I hate it. Stand. So I do against my will. O 'tis our Setter, I know his voice: Bardolfe, what news? Case ye, case ye; on with your Vizards, there's money of the Kings coming down the hill, 'tis going to the King's Exchequer. You lie you rogue, 'tis going to the King's Tavern. There's enough to make us all. To he hanged. You four shall front them in the narrow Lane: Ned and I, will walk lower; if they scape from your encounter, than they light on us. But how many be of them? Some eight or ten. Will they not rob us? What, a Coward Sir Iohn Paunch? Indeed I am not Iohn of Gaunt your Grandfather; but yet no Coward, Hal. we'll leave that to the proof. Sirrah Iacke, thy horse stands behind the hedge, when thou needest him, there thou shalt find him. Farewell, and stand fast. Now cannot I strike him, if I should be hanged. Ned, where are our disguises? here hard by: Stand close. Now my Masters, happy man be his dole, say I: every man to his business. Come Neighbor: the boy shall lead our Horses down the hill: we'll walk afoot a while, and ease our Legs. Stay. Iesu bless us. Strike down with them, cut the villains throats; a whoreson Caterpillars: Bacon-fed Knaves, they hate us youth; down with them, fleece them. O, we are undone, both we and ours for ever. Hang ye gorbellied knaves, are you undone? No ye Fat Chuffs, I would your store were here. On Bacons on, what ye knaves? Young men must live, you are Grand jurers, are ye? we'll iure ye i'faith. The thieves have bound the True-men: Now could thou and I rob the thieves, and go merrily to London, it would be argument for a Week, Laughter for a Month, and a good jest for ever.
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)
a plague light vpon you all. Giue my Horſe you giue me my Horſe, and be hang'd. Peace ye fat guttes, lye downe, lay thine eare cloſe to the ground, and liſt if thou can heare the tread of Trauellers. Haue you any Leauers to lift me vp again being downe? Ile not beare mine owne fleſh ſo far afoot again, for all the coine in thy Fathers Exchequer. What a plague meane ye to colt me thus? Thou ly'ſt, thou art not colted, thou art vncolted. I prethee good Prince Hal, help me to my horſe, good Kings ſonne. Out you Rogue, ſhall I be your Oſtler? Go hang thy ſelfe in thine owne heire-apparant-Garters: If I be tane, Ile peach for this: and I haue not Ballads made on all, and ſung to filthy tunes, let a Cup of Sacke be my poyſon: when a ieſt is ſo forward, & a foote too, I hate it. Stand. So I do againſt my will. O 'tis our Setter, I know his voyce: Bardolfe, what newes? Caſe ye, caſe ye; on with your Vizards, there's mony of the Kings comming downe the hill, 'tis going to the Kings Exchequer. You lie you rogue, 'tis going to the Kings Tauern. There's enough to make vs all. To he hang'd. You foure ſhall front them in the narrow Lane: Ned and I, will walke lower; if they ſcape from your encounter, then they light on vs. But how many be of them? Some eight or ten. Will they not rob vs? What, a Coward Sir Iohn Paunch? Indeed I am not Iohn of Gaunt your Grandfather; but yet no Coward, Hal. Wee'l leaue that to the proofe. Sirra Iacke, thy horſe ſtands behinde the hedg, when thou need'ſt him, there thou ſhalt finde him. Farewell, and ſtand faſt. Now cannot I ſtrike him, if I ſhould be hang'd. Ned, where are our diſguiſes? Heere hard by: Stand cloſe. Now my Maſters, happy man be his dole, ſay I: euery man to his buſineſſe. Come Neighbor: the boy ſhall leade our Horſes downe the hill: Wee'l walke a-foot a while, and eaſe our Legges. Stay. Ieſu bleſſe vs. Strike▪ down with them, cut the villains throats; a whorſon Caterpillars: Bacon-fed Knaues, they hate vs youth; downe with them, fleece them. O, we are vndone, both we and ours for euer. Hang ye gorbellied knaues, are you vndone? No ye Fat Chuffes, I would your ſtore were heere. On Bacons on▪ what ye knaues? Yong men muſt liue, you are Grand Iurers, are ye? Wee'l iure ye ifaith. The Theeues haue bound the True-men: Now could thou and I rob the Theeues, and go merily to London, it would be argument for a Weeke, Laughter for a Moneth, and a good ieſt for euer.