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 T47 Knaves, thieves and bawds · 478 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T47: knave, rogue, money, knaves, thief, rogues, pray, whore, nichol, book.
Tricks, Ampedo, tricks, devices, and mad hieroglyphics, mirth, mirth, and melody. O, there's more music in this, than all the gamut ears, and Sol fa Res, in the world; here's the purse, and here's the Hat: because you shall be sure i'll not start, wear you this, you know his virtue; if danger beset you, fly & away: A sort of broken-shinned limping legged jades run hobbling to seek us: Shadow, we'll for all this have one fit of mirth more, to make us laugh and be fat. And when we are fat, master, we'll do as all gluttons do, laugh and lie down. Hie thee to my chamber, make ready my richest attire, i'll to Court presently. I'll go to Court in this attire, for apparel is but the shadow of a man, but shadow is the substance of his apparel. Away, away, and meet me presently. I had more need to cry, away to thee. Away, away with this wild lunacy, Away with riots. Away with your purity, brother, you're an Ass, why doth this purse spit out gold but to be spent? why lives a man in this world, to dwell in the Suburbs of it, as you do? Away foreign simplicity, away: are not eyes made to see fair Ladies: hearts to love them? tongues to court them, & hands to feel them? Out you Stock, you stone, you logs end: Are not legs made to dance, and shall mine limp up and down the world after your cloth-stocking-heels? you have the Hat, keep it, anon i'll visit your virtuous countenance again, adieu, pleasure is my sweet mistress, I wear her love in my Hat, and her soul in my heart: I have sworn to be merry, and in spite of Fortune and the black-browed destinies, i'll never be sad. Go, fool, in spite of mirth, thou shalt be sad. I'll bury half thy pleasures in a grave Of hungry flames, this fire I did ordain To burn both purse and Hat: as this doth perish, So shall the other: count what good and bad They both have wrought, the good is to the ill, As a small pibble to a mighty hill. Thy glory and thy mischiefs here shall burn, Good gifts abused to man's confusion turn. This is his brother; Soldiers, bind his arms. Bind arms and legs, and hale the fiend a way. Uncivil: wherefore must I taste your spite? Art thou not one of Fortunatus sons? I am, but he did never do you wrong. The devil thy brother has, villain, look here. Where is the beauteous purse and wishing Hat? My brother Andelocia has the purse, This way he'll come anon to pass to court, Alas, that sin should make men's hearts so bold, To kill their souls for the base thirst of gold. The wishing Hat is burnt.
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)
Trickes, Ampedo, trickes, deuises, and mad Herogliphickes, mirth, mirth, and melody. O, there's more musicke in this, then all the Gammoth ares, and Sol fa Res, in the world; here's the purse, and here's the Hat: because you shal be sure ile not start, weare you this, you know his vertue; if danger beset you, flie & away: A sort of broken-shind limping legd Iades runne hobling to séeke vs: Shaddow, wéele for all this haue one fit of mirth more, to make vs laugh and be fat. And when we are fat, master, wéele doe as all gluttons doe, laugh and lie downe. Hie thée to my chamber, make ready my richest attire, ile to Court presently. Ile goe to Court in this attire, for apparell is but the shaddow of a man, but shaddow is the substance of his apparell. Away, away, and méete me presently. I had more néede to crie, away to thée. Away, away with this wilde lunacie, Away with ryots. Away with your puritie, brother, y'are an Asse, why doth this purse spit out gold but to be spent? why liues a man in this world, to dwell in the Suburbs of it, as you doe? Away forren simplicitie, away: are not eyes made to sée faire Ladies: hearts to loue them? tongues to court them, & hands to féele them? Out you Stocke, you stone, you logs end: Are not legs made to daunce, and shall mine limp vp and downe the world after your cloth-stockin-héeles? you haue the Hat, keepe it, anon ile visit your vertuous countenance againe, adew, pleasure is my swéete mistris, I weare her loue in my Hat, and her soule in my heart: I haue sworne to bee merry, and in spite of Fortune and the blacke-browd destinies, ile neuer be sad. Goe, foole, in spite of mirth, thou shalt be sad. Ile burie halfe thy pleasures in a graue Of hungrie flames, this fire I did ordaine To burne both purse and Hat: as this doth perish, So shall the other: count what good and bad They both haue wrought, the good is to the ill, As a small Pible to a mightie hill. Thy glorie and thy mischiefes here shall burne, Good gifts abuzde to mans confusion turne. This is his brother; Souldiers, bind his armes. Bind armes and legs, and hale the fiend a way. Unciuill: wherefore must I taste your spite? Art thou not one of Fortunatus sonnes? I am, but he did neuer doe you wrong. The diuell thy brother has, villaine, looke here. Where is the beautious purse and wishing Hat? My brother Andelocia has the purse, This way heele come anon to passe to court, Alas, that sinne should make mens hearts so bold, To kill their soules for the base thirst of gold. The wishing Hat is burnt.