Dekker, Thomas · published 1600 · first performed or written 1599 [Nov 9-30, payment] (Annals) romance · Admiral's (Nottingham's) Men · before the Court unassigned nearest T37 Riches, poverty and covetousness · 509 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T37: wealth, riches, money, god, rich, poverty, men, learning, poor, ic.
So is not Shadow: I am out of my wits, to see fat gluttons feed all day long, whilst I that am lean, fast every day: I am out of my wits, to see our Famagosta fools, turn half a shop of wares into a suit of gay apparel, only to make other Idiots laugh, and wisemen to cry who's the fool now? I am mad, to see Soldiers beg, and cowards brave: I am mad, to see Scholars in the broker's shop, and Dunces in the Mercers: I am mad, to see men that have no more fashion in them then poor Shadow, yet must leap thrice a day into three orders of fashions: I am mad, to see many things, but horn-mad, that my mouth feels nothing. Why, now shadow, I see thou hast a substance: I am glad to see thee thus mad. The sons of Fortunatus had not wont, Thus to repine at other's happiness: But fools have always this loose garment wore, Being poor themselves, they wish all others poor, Fie, brother Andelocia, hate this madness, Turn your eyes inward, and behold your soul, That wants more than your body: burnish that With glittering Virtue: and make Idiots grieve, So see your beauteous mind in wisdom shine, As you at their rich poverty repine. Peace, good virtue, Shad here comes another Shadow It should be a Chameleon: for he is all in colours. Oh, 'tis my Father, With these tears of joy, My love and duty greet your fair return: A double gladness hath refreshed my soul; One, that you live, and one, to see your fate Looks freshly howsoever poor in state. My father Fortunatus, & thus brave? 'tis no wonder to see a man brave, but a wonder how he comes brave. Dear Andelocia and son Ampedo, And my poor servant Shadow: plume your spirits With light-winged mirth: for Fortunatus' hand Can now power golden showers into their laps, That sometimes scorned him for his want of gold. boys, I am rich, and you shall ne'er be poor; We are gold, spend gold, we all in gold will feed, Now is your father Fortunate indeed. Father, be not angry, if I set open the windows of my mind: I doubt for all your bragging, you'll prove like most of our gallants in Famagosta, that have a rich outside, & a beggarly inside, and like Mules wear gay trappings, and good Velvet foot-cloths on their backs, yet champ on the Iron bit of penury, I mean, want coin: You gild our ears with a talk of Gold, but I pray dazzle our eyes with the majesty of it. First will I wake your senses with the sound Of golds sweet music: tell me what you hear? Believe me, Sir, I hear not any thing. Ha, ha, ha. S heart, I thought as much, if I hear any jingling, but of the purse strings that go flip, flap, flip, flap, flip, flap, would I were turned into a flip-flap, and sold to the Butchers.
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)
So is not Shaddow: I am out of my wits, to sée fat gluttons feede all day long, whilst I that am leane, fast euery day: I am out of my wits, to sée our Famagsta fooles, turne halfe a shop of wares into a suite of gay apparrell, onely to make other Ideots laugh, and wisemen to crie who's the foole now? I am mad, to sée Souldiours beg, and cowards braue: I am mad, to sée Schollers in the Brokers shop, and Dunces in the Mercers: I am mad, to see men that haue no more fashion in them then poore Shaddow, yet must leape thrice a day into thrée orders of fashions: I am mad, to sée many things, but horne-mad, that my mouth féeles nothing. Why, now shaddow, I sée thou hast a substance: I am glad to sée thée thus mad. The sonnes of Fortunatus had not woont, Thus to repine at others happines: But fooles haue alwaies this loose garment wore, Being poore themselues, they wish all others poore, Fie, brother Andelocia, hate this madnes, Turne your eyes inward, and behold your soule, That wants more then your body: burnish that With glittering Uertue: and make Ideots grieue, So see your beautious mind in wisedome shine, As you at their rich pouertie repine. Peace, good vertue, Shad here comes another Shadow It should be a Camelion: for he is all in colours. Oh, tis my Father, With these teares of ioye, My loue and duetie greete your faire returne: A double gladnesse hath refresht my soule; One, that you liue, and one, to sée your fate Lookes freshly howsoeuer poore in state. My father Fortunatus, & thus braue? Tis no wonder to sée a man braue, but a wonder how he comes braue. Deere Andelocia and sonne Ampedo, And my poore seruant Shaddow: plume your spirits With light-wingd mirth: for Fortunatus hand Can now powre golden showres into their laps, That sometimes scorn'd him for his want of gold. Boyes, I am rich, and you shall ne're be poore; We are gold, spend gold, we all in gold will féede, Now is your father Fortunate indéede. Father, be not angrie, if I set open the windowes of my mind: I doubt for all your bragging, you'le prooue like most of our gallants in Famagosta, that haue a rich outside, & a beggerly inside, and like Mules weare gay trappings, and good Ueluet foote-clothes on their backes, yet champe on the Iron bitte of penurie, I meane, want coyne: You gild our eares with a talke of Gold, but I pray dazell our eyes with the maiestie of it. First will I wake your sences with the sound Of golds swéete musicke: tell me what you heare? Belieue me, Sir, I heare not any thing. Ha, ha, ha. S hart, I thought as much, if I heare any gingling, but of the purse strings yt goe flip, flap, flip, flap, flip, flap, would I were turnd into a flip-flap, and solde to the Butchers.