Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1597 [c.1596-1597] (Annals) history · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men unassigned nearest T58 Gallant talk and courtship: an Epicene-c · 506 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T58: jack, john, daw, dauphine, amorous, mistress, trve, ladies, wit, madame.
Mark Iacke. We two, saw you four set on four and bound them, and were Masters of their Wealth: mark now how a plain Tale shall put you down. Then did we two, set on you four, and with a word, outfaced you from your prize, and have it: yea, and can show it you in the House. And Falstaff, you carried your Guts away as nimbly, with as quick dexterity, and roared for mercy, and still ran and roared, as ever I heard Bull-Calfe. What a Slave art thou, to hack thy sword as thou hast done, and then say it was in fight. What trick? what devices? what starting hole canst thou now find out, to hide thee from this open and apparent shame? Come, let's hear Iacke: What trick hast thou now? I knew ye as well as he that made ye. Why hear ye my Masters, was it for me to kill the Heir apparent? Should I turn upon the true Prince? Why, thou knowest I am as valiant as Hercules: but beware Instinct, the Lion will not touch the true Prince: Instinct is a great matter. I was a Coward on Instinct: I shall think the better of myself, and thee, during my life: I, for a valiant Lion, and thou for a true Prince. But Lads, I am glad you have the Mony. Hostess, clap to the doors: watch to night, pray to morrow. Gallants, Lads, Boys, Hearts of Gold, all the good Titles of Fellowship come to you. What, shall we be merry? shall we have a Play extempore. Content, and the argument shall be, thy running away. A, no more of that Hall, and thou lovest me. My Lord, the Prince? How now my Lady the Hostess, what sayst thou to me? Marry, my Lord, there is a Noble man of the Court at door would speak with you: he says, he comes from your Father. Give him as much as will make him a Royal man, and send him back again to my Mother. What manner of man is he? An old man. What doth Gravity out of his Bed at Midnight? Shall I give him his answer? Prithee do Iacke. I'faith, and I'll send him packing. Now Sirs: you fought fair; so did you Peto, so did you Bardol: you are Lions too, you ran away upon instinct: you will not touch the true Prince; no, fie. I'faith, I ran when I saw others run. Tell me now in earnest, how came Falstaffes Sword so hacked? Why, he hacked it with his Dagger, and said, he would swear truth out of England, but he would make you believe it was done in fight, and persuaded us to do the like. Yea, and to tickle our Noses with Spear-grasse, to make them bleed, and then to beslubber our garments with it, and swear it was the blood of true men. I did that I did not this seven years before, I blushed to hear his monstrous devices.
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)
Marke Iacke. We two, ſaw you foure ſet on foure and bound them, and were Maſters of their Wealth: mark now how a plaine Tale ſhall put you downe. Then did we two, ſet on you foure, and with a word, outfac'd you from your prize, and haue it: yea, and can ſhew it you in the Houſe. And Falſtaffe, you caried your Guts away as nimbly, with as quicke dexteritie, and roared for mercy, and ſtill ranne and roar'd, as euer I heard Bull-Calfe. What a Slaue art thou, to hacke thy ſword as thou haſt done, and then ſay it was in fight. What trick? what deuices? what ſtarting hole canſt thou now find out, to hide thee from this open and apparant ſhame? Come, let's heare Iacke: What tricke haſt thou now? I knew ye as well as he that made ye. Why heare ye my Maſters, was it for me to kill the Heire apparant? Should I turne vpon the true Prince? Why, thou knoweſt I am as valiant as Hercules: but beware Inſtinct, the Lion will not touch the true Prince: Inſtinct is a great matter. I was a Coward on Inſtinct: I ſhall thinke the better of my ſelfe, and thee, during my life: I, for a valiant Lion, and thou for a true Prince. But Lads, I am glad you haue the Mony. Hoſteſſe, clap to the doores: watch to night, pray to morrow. Gallants, Lads, Boyes, Harts of Gold, all the good Titles of Fellowſhip come to you. What, ſhall we be merry? ſhall we haue a Play extempory. Content, and the argument ſhall be, thy runing away. A, no more of that Hall, and thou loueſt me. My Lord, the Prince? How now my Lady the Hoſteſſe, what ſay'ſt thou to me? Marry, my Lord, there is a Noble man of the Court at doore would ſpeake with you: hee ſayes, hee comes from your Father. Giue him as much as will make him a Royall man▪ and ſend him backe againe to my Mother. What manner of man is hee? An old man. What doth Grauitie out of his Bed at Midnight? Shall I giue him his anſwere? Prethee doe Iacke. 'Faith, and Ile ſend him packing. Now Sirs: you fought faire; ſo did you Peto, ſo did you Bardol: you are Lyons too, you ranne away vpon inſtinct: you will not touch the true Prince; no, fie. 'Faith, I ranne when I ſaw others runne. Tell mee now in earneſt, how came Falſtaffes Sword ſo hackt? Why, he hackt it with his Dagger, and ſaid, hee would ſweare truth out of England, but hee would make you beleeue it was done in fight, and perſwaded vs to doe the like. Yea, and to tickle our Noſes with Spear-graſſe, to make them bleed, and then to beſlubber our garments with it, and ſweare it was the blood of true men. I did that I did not this ſeuen yeeres before, I bluſht to heare his monſtrous deuices.