Jonson, Ben · published 1600 · first performed or written 1599 (Annals) comedy · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men unassigned nearest T13 Knights, squires and ladies · 502 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T13: knight, raph, lady, knights, george, master, squire, rafe, pray, god.
I believe you Musk-cod, I believe you, for rather than thou wouldst make present repayment, thou wouldst take it upon his own bare return from Callice. Nay God's life, he'd be content (so he were well rid out of his company) to pay him five for one at his next meeting him in Paul's. But for your Dog, sir Puntar, if he be not outright dead, there is a friend of mine a Quacksalver, shall put life in him again, that's certain. O no, that comes too late. God's precious Knight, will you suffer this? Drawer; get me a Candle and hard wax presently. ay, and bring up Supper; for I am so Melancholy. Ah signor, where's your Resolution? Resolution! hang him Rascal: O Carlo, if you love me do not mention him. Why, how so? how so? O the arrantest Crocodile that ever Christian was acquainted with. By Iesu, I shall think the worse of Tobacco while I live for his sake: I did think him to be as tall a man— Nay Buffone, the Knight, the Knight. 'sblood, he looks like an Image carved out of Box, full of knots: his Face is (for all the world) like a Dutch purse with the mouth downward; his beard's the Tassells: and he walks (let me see) as Melancholy as one o'the Master's side in the Counter. Do you hear sir Puntar? Sir, I do entreat you no more, but enjoin you to silence, as you affect your peace. Nay but dear Knight understand (here are none but friends, & such as wish you well) I would ha' you do this now; Flame your Dog presently (but in any case keep the head) & stuff his skin well with straw, as you see these dead monsters at Bartholmew fair. I shall be sudden I tell you. Or if you like not that sir, get me somewhat a less dog and clap into the skin; here 's a slave about the town here, a Iew, one Yohan; or a fellow that makes Periwigs will glue it on artificially, it shall ne'er be discerned; beside, 'twill be so much the warmer for the Hound to travel in you know. Sir Puntarvolo, 'Sdeath can you be so patient? Or thus Sir: you may have (as you come through Germanie) a Familiar for little or nothing shall turn itself into the shape of your Dog, or any thing (what you will) for certain hours: Gods my life knight, what do you mean? you'll offer no violence, will you? Hold, hold. 'sblood you slave, you Bandog you. As you love God, stay the enraged knight, Gentlemen. By my knighthood, he that stirs in his rescue, dies. Drawer be gone. Murder, murder, murder. ay, are you howling, you Wolf? Gentlemen, as you tender your lives, suffer no man to enter, till my revenge be perfect. Sirrah Buffone, lie down; make no exclamations, but down; down you Cur, or I will make thy blood flow on my Rapier hilts:
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 beleeue you Musk-cod, I beleeue you, for rather than thou would'st make present repaimēt, thou would'st take it vpon his owne bare returne from Callice. Nay Gods life, hee'ld be content (so he were well id out of his companie) to pay him fiue for one at his next meeting him in Paules. But for your Dogge, sir Puntar, if he be not out-right dead, there is a friend of mine a Quack-saluer, shall put life in him againe, that's certaine. O no, that comes too late. Gods pretious Knight, will you suffer this? Drawer; get me a Candle and hard waxe presently. I, and bring vp Supper; for I am so Melancholly. Ah Signior, where's your Resolution? Resolution! hang him Rascall: O Carlo, if you loue me doe not mention him. VVhy, how so? how so? O the arrant'st Crocodile that euer Christian was acquainted with. By Iesu, I shall thinke the worse of Tabacco while I liue for his sake: I did thinke him to be as tall a man— Nay Buffone, the Knight, the Knight. Sblood, hee lookes like an Image carued out of Boxe, full of knots: his Face is (for all the world) like a Dutch purse with the mouth downward; his beard's the Tassels: and hee walkes (let me see) as Melancholly as one o'the Masters side in the Counter. Doe you heare sir Puntar? Sir, I doe enreat you no more, but enjoyne you to silence, as you affect your peace. Nay but deare Knight vnderstand (here are none but friends, & such as wish you well) I would ha' you do this now; Fleame your Dog presently (but in any case keep the head) & stuffe his skin well with straw, as you see these dead monsters at Bartholmew faire. I shall be suddaine I tell you. Or if you like not that sir, get me somewhat a lesse dog and clap into the skin; here 's a slaue about the towne here, a Iew, one Yohan; or a fellow that makes Periwigs will glew it on artificially, it shall ne're bee discern'd; besides, 'twill be so much the warmer for the Hound to travell in you know. Sir Puntarvolo, Sdeath can you be so patient? Or thus Sir: you may haue (as you come through Germanie) a Familiar for little or nothing shall turn it selfe into the shape of your Dog, or any thing (what you will) for certaine howers: Gods my life knight, what do you meane? youle offer no violence, will you? Hold, hold. Sbloud you slaue, you Bandog you. As you loue God, stay the enraged knight, Gentlemen. By my knighthood, hee that stirres in his rescue, dies. Drawer be gone. Murder, murder, murder. I, are you houling, you VVolfe? Gentlemen, as you tender your liues, suffer no man to enter, till my reuenge bee perfect. Sirha Buffone, lie downe; make no exclamations, but downe; downe you Curre, or I will make thy blood flow on my Rapier hilts: