The Shoemaker's Holiday, or The Gentle Craft · chunk 4 of 38
Dekker, Thomas · published 1600 · first performed or written 1599 [Jul 15, payment] (Annals) comedy · Admiral's (Nottingham's) Men · before the Court unassigned nearest T41 Household service: masters, doors and po · 494 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T41: master, house, door, iohn, old, mistress, basket, lord, gentleman, ick.
O let him stay, else I shall be undone. I truly, she shall be laid at one side like a pair of old shoes else, and be occupied for no use. Truly my friends, it lies not in my power, The Londoners are priest, paid, and set forth By the Lord Maior, I cannot change a man. Why then you were as good be a corporal, as a colonel, if you cannot discharge one good fellow, and I tell you true, I think you do more than you can answer, to presie a man within a year and a day of his marriage. Well said melancholy Hodge, gramercy my fine foreman. Truly gentlemen, it were ill done, for such as you, to stand so stiffly against a poor young wife: considering her case, she is new married, but let that pass: I pray deal not roughly with her, her husband is a young man and but newly entered, but let that pass. Away with your pishery-pashery, your polls and your edipolls, peace Midaffe, silence Cisly Bumtrinket, let your head speak. Yea and the horns too, master. Too soon, my fine Firk, too soon: peace scoundrels, see you this man? captains, you will not release him, well let him go, he's a proper shot, let him vanish, peace Iane, dry up thy tears, they'll make his powder darkish, take him brave men, Hector of Troy was an hackney to him, Hercules and Termagant scoundrels, Prince Arthur's Round table, by the Lord of Ludgate, near fed such a tall, such a dapper swordman: by the life of Pharo, a brave resolute swordman, peace Iane, I say no more, mad knaves. See, see Hodge, how my master raves in commendation of Rafe. Raph, thart a gull by this hand, and thou goest. I am glad (good master Air) it is my hap To meet so resolute a soldier. Trust me, for your report, and love to him, A common flight regard shall not respect him. Is thy name Raph? Yes sir. Give me thy hand, Thou shalt not want, as I am a gentleman: Woman, be patient, God (no doubt) will send Thy husband safe again, but he must go, His country's quarrel says, it shall be so. Thart a gull by my stirrup, if thou dost not go, I will not have thee strike thy gimlet into these weak vessels, prick thine enemies Rafe. My lord, your uncle on the Tower hill, Stays with the lord Mayor, and the Aldermen, And doth request you with all speed you may To hasten thither. cousin, let's go. Dodger run you before, tell them we come, This Dodger is mine uncles parasite, The arrantst varlet that e'er breathed on earth, He sets more discord in a noble house, By one days broaching of his pickthank falls, Then can be salved again in twenty years, And he (I fear) shall go with us to France, To pry into our actions.
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)
O let him stay, else I shal be vndone. I truly, she shal be laid atone side like a paire of old shooes else, and be occupied for no vse. Truly my friends, it lies not in my power, The Londoners are prest, paide, and set forth By the Lord Maior, I cannot change a man. Why then you were as good be a corporall, as a colonel, if you cannot discharge one good fellow, and I tell you true, I thinke you doe more then you can answere, to presie a man within a yeare and a day of his mariage. Wel said melancholy Hodge, gramercy my fine foreman. Truly gentlemen, it were il done, for such as you, to stand so stiffely against a poore yong wife: considering her case, she is new married, but let that passe: I pray deale not roughly with her, her husband is a yong man and but newly entred, but let that passe. Away with your pisherie pasherie, your pols and your edipolls, peace Midaffe, silence Cisly Bumtrincket, let your head speake. Yea and the hornes too, master. Too soone, my fine Firk, too soone: peace scoundrels, see you this man? Captaines, you will not release him, wel let him go, hée's a proper shot, let him vanish, peace Iane, drie vp thy teares, theile make his powder darkish, take him braue men, Hector of Troy was an hackney to him, Hercules and Termagant scoundrelles, Prince Arthurs Round table, by the Lord of Lutgate, nere fed such a tall, such a dapper swordman: by the life of Pharo, a braue resolute swordman, peace Iane, I say no more, mad knaues. Sée, see Hodge, how my maister raues in commendation of Rafe. Raph, thart a gull by this hand, and thou goest. I am glad (good master Ayre) it is my hap To méete so resolute a souldiour. Trust me, for your report, and loue to him, A common flight regard shall not respect him. Is thy name Raph? Yes sir. Giue me thy hand, Thou shalt not want, as I am a gentleman: Woman, be patient, God (no doubt) wil send Thy husband safe againe, but he must go, His countries quarrel sayes, it shall be so. Thart a gull by my stirrop, if thou dost not goe, I wil not haue thée strike thy gimblet into these weake bessels, pricke thine enemies Rafe. My lord, your vncle on the Tower hill, Stayes with the lord Mayor, and the Aldermen, And doth request you with al spéede you may To hasten thither. Cosin, lets go. Dodger runne you before, tel them we come, This Dodger is mine vncles parasite, The arrantst varlet that e re breathd on earth, He sets more discord in a noble house, By one daies broching of his pickethanke fales, Then can be salu'd againe in twentie yeares, And he (I feare) shall go with vs to France, To prie into our actions.