1 The Two Angry Women of Abingdon · chunk 16 of 51
Porter, Henry · published 1599 · first performed or written 1598(?) (Annals) comedy · Admiral's (Nottingham's) Men unassigned nearest T44 Drinking: wine, ale and taverns · 499 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T44: drink, wine, numps, ale, butler, pot, sing, moy, drunk, win.
I mean for good luck. A good luck on ye. Alas poor fool, he uses all his wit, Philip in faith this mirth hath cheered thought, And cozened it of his right play of passion, Go after Nick, and when thou thinkst he's there, Go in and urge to that which I have writ, I'll in these meadows make a circling walk, And in my meditation conjure so, As that some send of thought self-eating anger, Shall by my spells of treason vanish quite Away, and let me beat from thee tonight. tonight, yes that you shall, but hark ye father, Look that you my sister waking keep, For Frank I swear shall kiss her ere I sleep. I am very dry with walking o'er the green, Bu lersome Beere, sirra call the Butler. Nay faith sir, we must have some smith to give the butler A drench, or cut him in the forehead, for he hath got A horse's disease, namely the staggers, tonight he's a good housewife, he reels all that he wrought today, & he were good Now to play at dice, for he casts excellent well. How meanst thou, is he drunk? I cannot tell, but I am sure he hath more liquour in him Then a whole dicker of hides, he's socked thoroughly i'faith. Well go and call him, bid him bring me drink. I will sir. My mother powers and will look merrily, Neither upon my father nor on me, He says she fell out with mistress Barns today, Than I am sure they'll no: be quickly friends, Good Lord what kind of creatures women are? Their love is lightly won and lightly lost, And then their hate is deadly and extreme. He that doth take a wife, betakes himself To all the cares and troubles of the world, Now her disquietness doth grieve my father, Grieves me, and troubles all the house beside, What, shall I have so ne drink? how now a horn? Belike the drunken slave is fallen asleep, And now the boy doth wake him with his horn, How now sirrah, where's the butler? marry sir, where he was even now asleep, but I waked him, and when he waked, he thought he was in master Barnses buttery, for he stretched himself thus: and yawning said, Nick, honest Nick fill a fresh bowl of ale, stand to it nick and thou be'st a man of God's making, stand to it, and then I winded my horn, and he's horn mad. Boy heigh, ho boy, and thou be'st a man draw, O here's a blessed moonshine God be thanked, boy is not this goodly weather for barley? Spoken like a right maulster Hodge, but dost thou hear? thou art not drunk. No, I scorn that i'faith. But thy fellow Dick Coomes is mightily drunk. Drunk, a plague on it, when a man cannot carry his drink well: 'sblood I'll stand to it. Hold man, see and thou canst stand first,
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)
I meane for good lucke. A good lucke onye. Alas poore foole, he vses all his wit, Phillip in faith this mirth hath cheered thought, And cussend it of his right play of passion, Goe after Nick, and when thou thinkst hees there, Go in and vrge to that which I haue writ, Ile in these meddowes make a cerckling walke, And in my meditation coniure so, As that some send of thought selfeeating anger, Shall by my spels of treason vanish quite Away, and let me beate fromthee to night. To night, yes that you shall, but harke ye father, Looke that you my sister waking keepe, For Franke I sweare shall kisse her ere I sleepe. I am very dy with walking ore the greene, Bu lersome Beere, sirra call the Butler. Nay faith sir, we must haue some smith to giue the butler A drench, or cut him in the forehead, for he hath got A horses disease, namely the staggers, to night hees a good Huswife, he reeles al that he wrought to day, & he were good Now to play at dice, for he castes excellent well. How meanst thou, is he drunke? I cannot tell, but I am sure hee hath more liquor in him Then a whole dicker of hydes, hees sockt throughly I faith. Well goe and call him, bid him bring me drinke. I will si. My mother powres and will looke merrily, Neither vpon my father nor on me, He saies she fell out with mistresse Barnes to day, Then I am sure they'l no: be quickly friends, Good Lord what kinde of creatures women are? Their loue is lightly wonne and lightly lost, And then their hate is deadly and extreame. He that doth take a wyfe, betakes himselfe To all the cares and troubles of the world, Now her disquietnes doth grieue my father, Greeues me, and troubles all the house besides, What, shall I haue so ne drinke? how now a horne? Belike the drunken slaue is fallen a sleepe, And now the boy doth wake him with his horne, How now sirra, wheres the butler? Mary sir, where he was euen now a sleepe, but I wakt him, and when he wakt, he thought he was in mayster Barnses buttery, for he stretcht himself thus: and yuning said, Nicke, honest Nicke fill a fresh bowle of ale, stand to it Nicke and thou beest a man of Gods making, stand to it, and then I winded my horne, and hees horne mad. Boy hey, ho boy, and thou beest a man draw, O heres a blessed mooneshine God be thanked, boy is not this goodly weather for barley? Spoken like a right maulster Hodge, but doost thou heare thou art not drunke. No, I scorne that I faith. But thy fellow Dicke Coomes is mightily drunke. Drunke, a plague on it, when a man cannot carry his drinke well: sbloud Ile stand to it. Hold man, see and thou canst stand first,