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 · 524 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.
Nay my Lord, he called you Iacke, and said he would cudgel you. Did I, Bardolph? Indeed Sir Iohn, you said so. Yea, if he said my Ring was Copper. I say 'tis Copper. Darest thou be as good as thy word now? Why Hal? thou knowst, as thou art but a man, I dare: but, as thou art a Prince, I fear thee, as I fear the roaring of the Lion's Whelp. And why not as the Lion? The King himself is to be feared as the Lion: Dost thou think I'll fear thee, as I fear thy Father? nay if I do, let my Girdle break. O, if it should, how would thy guts fall about thy knees. But sirrah: There's no room for Faith, Truth, nor Honesty, in this bosom of thine: it is all filled up with Guts and Midriff. Charge an honest Woman with picking thy pocket? Why thou whoreson impudent embossed Rascal, if there were any thing in thy Pocket but Tavern reckonings, Memorandums of Bawdie-houses, and one poor pennyworth of Sugar-candy to make thee long-winded: if thy pocket were enriched with any other injuries but these, I am a Villain: And yet you will stand to it, you will not Pocket up wrong. Art thou not ashamed? Dost thou hear Hal? Thou knowst in the state of Innocency, Adam fell: and what should poor Iacke Falstaff do, in the days of Villainy? Thou seest, I have more flesh than another man, and therefore more frailty. You confess then you picked my Pocket? It appears so by the Story. Hostess, I forgive thee: Go make ready Breakfast, love thy Husband, Look to thy Servants, and cherish thy Guests: Thou shalt find me tractable to any honest reason: Thou seest, I am pacified still. Nay, I prithee be gone. Now Hal, to the news at Court for the Robbery, Lad? How is that answered? O my sweet Beef: I must still be good Angel to thee. The Money is paid back again. O, I do not like that paying back, 'tis a double Labour. I am good Friends with my Father, and may do anything. Rob me the Exchequer the first thing thou dost, and do it with unwashed hands too. Do my Lord. I have procured thee Iacke, a Charge of Foot. I would it had been of Horse. Where shall I find one that can steal well? O, for a fine thief of two and twenty, or thereabout: I am heinously unprovided. Well God be thanked for these Rebels, they offend none but the Virtuous. I laud them, I praise them. Bardolph. My Lord. Go bear this Letter to Lord Iohn of Lancaster To my Brother Iohn. This to my Lord of Westmoreland, Go Peto, to horse: for thou, and I, Have thirty miles to ride yet ere dinner time. Iacke, meet me to morrow in the Temple Hall At two a clock in the afternoon, There shalt thou know thy Charge, and there receive Money and Order for their Furniture. The Land is burning, Percy stands on high, And either they, or we must lower lie.
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)
Nay my Lord, he call'd you Iacke, and ſaid hee would cudgell you. Did I, Bardolph? Indeed Sir Iohn, you ſaid ſo. Yea, if he ſaid my Ring was Copper. I ſay 'tis Copper. Dar'ſt thou bee as good as thy word now? Why Hal? thou know'ſt, as thou art but a man, I dare: but, as thou art a Prince, I feare thee, as I feare the roaring of the Lyons Whelpe. And why not as the Lyon? The King himſelfe is to bee feared as the Lyon: Do'ſt thou thinke Ile feare thee, as I feare thy Father? nay if I do, let my Girdle breake. O, if it ſhould▪ how would thy guttes fall about thy knees. But ſirra: There's no roome for Faith, Truth, nor Honeſty, in this boſome of thine: it is all fill'd vppe with Guttes and Midriffe. Charge an honeſt Woman with picking thy pocket? Why thou horſon impudent imboſt Raſcall, if there were any thing in thy Pocket but Tauerne Recknings, Memorandums of Bawdie-houſes, and one poore peny-worth of Sugar-candie to make thee long-winded: if thy pocket were enrich'd with anie other iniuries but theſe, I am a Villaine: And yet you will ſtand to it, you will not Pocket vp wrong. Art thou not aſham'd? Do'ſt thou heare Hal? Thou know'ſt in the ſtate of Innocency, Adam fell: and what ſhould poore Iacke Falſtaffe do, in the dayes of Villany? Thou ſeeſt, I haue more fleſh then another man, and therefore more frailty. You confeſſe then you pickt my Pocket? It appeares ſo by the Story. Hoſteſſe, I forgiue thee: Go make ready Breakfaſt, loue thy Husband, Looke to thy Seruants, and cheriſh thy Gueſts: Thou ſhalt find me tractable to any honeſt reaſon: Thou ſeeſt, I am pacified ſtill. Nay, I prethee be gone. Now Hal, to the newes at Court for the Robbery, Lad? How is that anſwered? O my ſweet Beefe: I muſt ſtill be good Angell to thee. The Monie is paid backe againe. O, I do not like that paying backe, 'tis a double Labour. I am good Friends with my Father, and may do anything. Rob me the Exchequer the firſt thing thou do'ſt, and do it with vnwaſh'd hands too. Do my Lord. I haue procured thee Iacke, a Charge of Foot. I would it had beene of Horſe. Where ſhal I finde one that can ſteale well? O, for a fine theefe of two and twentie, or thereabout: I am heynouſly vnprouided. Wel God be thanked for theſe Rebels, they offend none but the Vertuous. I laud them, I praiſe them. Bardolph. My Lord. Go beare this Letter to Lord Iohn of Lancaſter To my Brother Iohn. This to my Lord of Weſtmerland, Go Peto, to horſe: for thou, and I, Haue thirtie miles to ride yet ere dinner time. Iacke, meet me to morrow in the Temple Hall At two a clocke in the afternoone, There ſhalt thou know thy Charge, and there receiue Money and Order for their Furniture. The Land is burning, Percie ſtands on hye, And either they, or we muſt lower lye.