Jonson, Ben · published 1616 · first performed or written 1599 (Annals) comedy · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men T13 Knights, squires and ladies typicality 0.67 · 470 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T13: knight, raph, lady, knights, george, master, squire, rafe, pray, god.
A very faire coat, well charged, and full of armory. Nay, it has as much variety of colours in it, as you have seen a cost have, how like you the crest, sir? I understand it not well, what is't? Marry, sir, it is your Boar without a head Rampant. A Boar without a head, that's very rare! I, and rampant too: troth, I commend the Herald's wit, he has deciphered him well: A Swine without a head, without brain, wit, any thing indeed, ramping to gentility. You can blazon the rest, signor? can you not? O, I, I have it in writing here of purpose, it cost me two shillings the tricking. Let's hear, let's hear. It is the most vile, foolish, absurd, palpable, & ridiculous escutcheon, that ever this eye survised. Save you, good monsieur FASTIDIUS. Silence, good knight: on, on. GURONY, of eight pieces; AZURE and GULES, between three plates; a CHEVRON, engrailed checky, OR, VERT, and ERMINES; on a chief ARGENT between two ANNULETS, sables; a Boar's head, PROPER. How's that? on a chief ARGENT? On a chief ARGENT, a Boar's head, PROPER between two ANNULETS sables. 'Sblood, it's a Hogs-cheeke, and puddings in a pewter field this. How like you 'em, signor? Let the word be, Not without mustard; your crest is very rare, sir. A frying pan to the crest had had no fellow. Entreat your poor friend to walk off a little, signor, I will salute the knight. Come, laped up, laped up. You are right well encountered, sir, how does your faire dog? In reasonable state, sir: what citizen is that you were consorted with? a merchant of any worth? 'Tis signor DELIRO, sir. Is it he? Save you, sir. Good sir PUNTARVOLO. O, what copy of fool would this place minister, to one endued with patience, to observe it? Nay, look you sir, now you are gentleman, you must carry a more exalted presence, change your mood, and habit, to a more austere form, be exceeding proud, stand upon your gentility, and scorn every man. Speak nothing humbly, never discourse under a nobleman, though you ne'er saw him butriding to the star-chamber, it's all one. Love no man. Trust no man. Speak ill of no man to his face: nor well of any man behind his back. Salute fairly on the front, and wish 'em hanged upon the turn. Spread yourself upon his bosom publicly, whose heart you would eat in private. These be principles, think on 'em, I'll come to you again presently. Sirrah, keep close; yet not so close: thy breath will thawmy ruff. O, good cousin, I am a little busy, how does my niece? I am to walk with a knight, here. O He is here, look you sir, that's the gentleman. What, he i'the blush-coloured satin?
Other edition — placed after the fit, excluded from the main statistics
Position
nodes 1152–1181 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 35 of 74 in this edition
Length
470 words · 716 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T13 — Knights, squires and ladiesreviewed — decision pending · typicality 0.670 (cosine to the topic centroid) · placed after the fit (approximate_predict), not counted in the topic statistics
Other seeds
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)
A very saire coat, well charg'd, and full of armorie. Nay, it has as much varietie of colours in it, as you haue seene a cost haue, how like you the crest, sir? I vnderstand it not well, what is't? Mary, sir, it is your Bore without a head Rampant. A Bore without a head, that's very rare! I, and rampant too: troth, I commend the Heralds wi, hee has decyphered him well: A Swine without a head, without braine, wit, any thing indeed, ramping to gentilitie. You can blazon the rest, signior? can you not? O, I, I haue it in writing here of purpose, it cost me two shillings the tricking. Let's heare, let's heare. It is the most vile, foolish, absurd, palpable, & ridiculous escutcheon, that euer this eye survis'd. Saue you, good monsieur FASTIDIVS. Silence, good knight: on, on. GVRONY, of eight peeces; AZVRE and GVLES, betweene three plates; a CHEV'RON, grailed checkey, OR, VERT, and ERMINES; on a cheefe ARGENT betweene two ANN'LETS, sables; a Bores head, PROPER. How's that? on a cheefe ARGENT? On a cheefe ARGENT, a Bores head, PROPER betweene two ANN'LETS sables. S'lud, it's a Hogs-cheeke, and puddings in a pewter field this. How like you 'hem, signior? Let the word bee, Not without mustard; your crest is very rare, sir. A frying pan to the crest had had no fellow. Intreat your poore friend to walke off a little, signior, I will salute the knight. Come, lap't vp, lap't vp. You are right well encountred, sir, how do's your saire dog? In reasonable state, sir: what citizen is that you were consorted with? a marchant of any worth? 'Tis signior DELIRO, sir. Is it he? Saue you, sir. Good sir PVNTARVOLO. O, what copie of foole would this place minister, to one endew'd with patience, to obserue it? Nay, looke you sir, now you are gentleman, you must carry a more exalted presence, change your mood, and habit, to a more astere forme, be exceeding proud, stand vpon your gentilitie, and scorne euery man. Speake nothing humbly, neuer discourse vnder a nobleman, though you ne're saw him butriding to the Starre-chamber, it's all one. Loue no man. Trust no man. Speake ill of no man to his face: nor well of any man behind his backe. Salute fairely on the front, and wish 'hem hang'd vpon the turne. Spread your selfe vpon his bosome publikely, whose heart you would cae in priuate. These be principles, thinke on 'hem, I'le come to you againe presently. Sirra, keepe close; yet not so close: thy breath will thawmy ruffe. O, good cousin, I am a little busie, how do's my neece? I am to walke with a knight, here. O He is here, looke you sir, that's the gentleman. What, he i'the blush-colour'd sattin?