1 The Two Angry Women of Abingdon · chunk 33 of 51
Porter, Henry · published 1599 · first performed or written 1598(?) (Annals) comedy · Admiral's (Nottingham's) Men unassigned nearest T41 Household service: masters, doors and po · 508 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T41: master, house, door, iohn, old, mistress, basket, lord, gentleman, ick.
Tut sir, howsoever it shall go forward. Come then let's do, as Philip hath advised. Here is the place where Philip bid me stay, Till Francis came, but wherefore did my bother, Appoint it here? why in the coney borough? He had some meaning in't I warrant ye, Well here i'll set me down under this tree, And think upon the matter all alone, Good Lord what pretty things these coneys are, How finely they do feed till they be fat, And then what a sweet meat a coney is, And what smooth skins they have, both black and grey, They say they run more in the night than day, What is the reason? mark, why in the light, They see more passengers than in the night, For harmful men many a hay do set. And laugh to see them tumble in the net, And they put ferrets in the holes, fie, fie, And they go up and down where conies lie, And they lie still, they have so little wit, I marvel the warrener will suffer it, Nay, nay, they are so bad, that they themselves, Do give consent to catch these pretty elves, How if the warrener should spy me here? He would take me for a coney I dare swear, But when that Francis comes, what will he say? Look boy there lies a coney in my way: But soft, a light, whose's that? sold my mother, Nay then all hid, i'faith she shall not see me, I'll play bo peep with her behind this tree. I marvel where this wench doth hide herself So closely? I have searched in many a bush, Belike my mother took me for a Thrush, she's hid in this same Warren I'll lay money. Close as a rabbit sucker from an old coney. O God, I would to God that I could find her, I would keep her from her loves toys yet. I so you might, if your daughter had no wit. What a wild girl 'tis, that would have't so young. A murrain take that dissembling tongue, Ere your calves teeth were out you thought it long. But minion, yet I'll keep you from the man. To save a lie mother, say if you can. Well, now to look for her. I there's the spite, What trick shall I now have to scape her light? whose's there? what minion is it you? Beshrew her heart, what a fright she put me to, But I am glad I found her, though I was afraid, Come on your ways, you are a handsome maid, Why you forth a doors so late at night? Why whether go ye? come stand still I say. No indeed mother, this is my best way. 'tis not the best way, stand by me I tell ye. No you would catch me mother, o I smell ye. Will ye not stand still? No by Lady no. But I will make ye. Nay then trip and go. Mistress, I'll make ye weary ere I have done.
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)
Tt sir, howsoeuer it shall go forward. Come then let do, as Philip hath aduisd. Heere is the place where Philip bid me stay, Till Francis came, but wherefore did my bother, Appoint i heere? why in the Cunny borough? He had some meaning in't I warrant ye, Well heere ile set me downe vnder this tree, And thinke vpon the matter all alone, Good Lord what pritty things these Cunnies are, How finely they do feede till they be fat, And then what a sweet meate a Cunny is, And what smooth skins they haue, both black and gray, They say they run more in the night then day, What is the reason? marke, why in the light, They see more passengers then in the night, For harmfull men many a haye do set. And laugh to see them tumble in the net, And they put ferrets in the holes, fie, fie, And they go vp and downe where connies lye, And they lye still, they haue so little wit, I maruell the Warriner will suffer it, Nay, nay, they are so bad, that they themselues, Do giue consent to catch these prettie elfes, How if the Warriner should spie me heere? He would take me for a conny I dare sweare, But when that Francis comes, what will he say? Looke boy there lyes a conney in my way: But soft, a light, whose that? sould my mother, Nay then all hid, I faith she shall not see me, Ile play bo peepe with her behinde this tree. I maruell where this wench doth hide her selfe So closely? I haue searcht in many a bush, Belike my mother tooke me for a Thrush, Shees hid in this same Warren Ile lay money. Close as a rabbet sucker from an olde conney. O God, I would to God that I could find her, I would keepe her from her loues toyes yet. I so you might, if your daughter had no wit. What a vilde gile tis, that would hau't so young. A murren take that desembling tongue, Ere your calues teeth were out you thought it long. But minion, yet Ile keepe you from the man. To saue a lye mother, say if you can. Well, now to looke for her. I theres the spight, What trick shall I now haue to scape her light? Whose there? what minion is it you? Beshrew her heart, what a fright she put me to, But I am glad I found her, though I was afraide, Come on your wayes, you are a handsome maide, Why you foorth a doores so late at night? Why whether go ye? come stand still I say. No indeed mother, this is my best way. Tis not the best way, stand by me I tell yee. No you would catch me mother, o I smell ye. Will ye not stand still? No by Ladie no. But I will make ye. Nay then trip and goe. Mistresse, Ile make ye wearie ere I haue done.