The Merchant of Venice (The Jew of Venice) · chunk 14 of 42
Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1596 [1596-1598] (Annals) comedy · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men unassigned nearest T47 Knaves, thieves and bawds · 512 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T47: knave, rogue, money, knaves, thief, rogues, pray, whore, nichol, book.
I am bid forth to supper Iessica, There are my Keys: but wherefore should I go? I am not bid for love, they flatttr me, But yet I'll go in hate, to feed upon The prodigal Christian. Iessica my girl, Look to my house, I am right loath to go, There is some ill a brewing towards my rest, For I did dream of money bags to night. I beseech you sir go, my young Master Doth expect your reproach. So do I his. And they have conspired together, I will not say you shall see a Mask, but if you do, than it was not for nothing that my nose fell a bleeding on black monday last, at six a clock i'th' morning, falling out that year on ashwensday was four year in th' afternoon. What are their masks? hear you me Iessica, Lock up my doors, and when you hear the drum And the vile squealing of the wry-necked Fife, Clamber not you up to the casements then, Nor thrust your head into the public street To gaze on Christian fools with varnished faces: But stop my houses ears, I mean my casements, Let not the sound of shallow foppery enter My sober house. By Iacobs staff I swear, I have no mind of feasting forth to night: But I will go: go you before me sirrah, Say I will come. I will go before sir. Mistress look out at window for all this; There will come a Christian by, Will be worth a Iewes eye. What says that fool of Hagars' offspring? ha'. His words were farewell mistress, nothing else. The patch is kind enough, but a huge feeder: Snaile-slow in profit, but he sleeps by day More than the wilde-cat: drones hive not with me, Therefore I part with him, and part with him To one that I would have him help to waste His borrowed purse. Well Iessica go in, Perhaps I will return immediately; Do as I bid you, shut doors after you, fast bind, fast find, A proverb never stolen in thrifty mind. Farewell, and if my fortune be not crossed, I have a Father, you a daughter lost. This is the penthouse under which Lorenzo Desired us to make a stand. His hour is almost past. And it is marvel he out-dwels his hour, For lovers ever run before the clock. O ten times faster Venus' Pigeons fly To steal love's bonds new made, than they are wont To keep obliged faith unforfaited. That ever holds, who riseth from a feast With that keen appetite that he sits down? Where is the horse that doth untread again His tedious measures with the unbated fire, That he did place them first: all things that are, Are with more spirit chased then enjoyed. How like a younger or a prodigal The skarfed bark puts from her native bay, Hudged and embraced by the strumpet wind: How like a prodigal doth she return With ouer-withered ribs and ragged sails, Lean, rent, and beggared by the strumpet wind?
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 am bid forth to ſupper Ieſſica, There are my Keyes: but wherefore ſhould I go? I am not bid for loue, they flatttr me, But yet Ile goe in hate, to feede vpon The prodigall Chriſtian. Ieſſica my girle, Looke to my houſe, I am right loath to goe, There is ſome ill a bruing towards my reſt, For I did dreame of money bags to night. I beſeech you ſir goe, my yong Maſter Doth expect your reproach. So doe I his. And they haue conſpired together, I will not ſay you ſhall ſee a Maske, but if you doe, then it was not for nothing that my noſe fell a bleeding on blacke monday laſt, at ſix a clocke ith morning, falling out that yeere on aſhwenſday was foure yeere in th' afternoone. What are their maskes? heare you me Ieſſica, Lock vp my doores, and when you heare the drum And the vile ſquealing of the wry-neckt Fife, Clamber not you vp to the caſements then, Nor thruſt your head into the publique ſtreete To gaze on Chriſtian fooles with varniſht faces: But ſtop my houſes eares, I meane my caſements, Let not the ſound of ſhallow fopperie enter My ſober houſe. By Iacobs ſtaffe I ſweare, I haue no minde of feaſting forth to night: But I will goe: goe you before me ſirra, Say I will come. I will goe before ſir. Miſtris looke out at window for all this; There will come a Chriſtian by, Will be worth a Iewes eye. What ſaies that foole of Hagars off-ſpring? ha. His words were farewell miſtris, nothing elſe. The patch is kinde enough, but a huge feeder: Snaile-ſlow in profit, but he ſleepes by day More then the wilde-cat: drones hiue not with me, Therefore I part with him, and part with him To one that I would haue him helpe to waſte His borrowed purſe. Well Ieſſica goe in, Perhaps I will returne immediately; Doe as I bid you, ſhut dores after you, faſt binde, faſt finde, A prouerbe neuer ſtale in thriftie minde. Farewell, and if my fortune be not croſt, I haue a Father, you a daughter loſt. This is the penthouſe vnder which Lorenzo Deſired vs to make a ſtand. His houre is almoſt paſt. And it is meruaile he out-dwels his houre, For louers euer run before the clocke. O ten times faſter Venus Pidgions flye To ſteale loues bonds new made, then they are wont To keepe obliged faith vnforfaited. That euer holds, who riſeth from a feaſt With that keene appetite that he ſits downe? Where is the horſe that doth vntread againe His tedious meaſures with the vnbated fire, That he did pace them firſt: all things that are, Are with more ſpirit chaſed then enioy'd. How like a yonger or a prodigall The skarfed barke puts from her natiue bay, Hudg'd and embraced by the ſtrumpet winde: How like a prodigall doth ſhe returne With ouer-wither'd ribs and ragged ſailes, Leane, rent, and begger'd by the ſtrumpet winde?