The Shoemaker's Holiday, or The Gentle Craft · chunk 10 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 T47 Knaves, thieves and bawds · 489 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T47: knave, rogue, money, knaves, thief, rogues, pray, whore, nichol, book.
Upon some no, forester, go by: no faith mistress, the dear came running into the barn through the orchard, and over the pale, I wot well, I looked as pale as a new cheese to see him, but whip says goodman pin-close, up with his flail, and our nick with a prong, and down he fell, and they upon him, and I upon them, by my troth we had such sport, and in the end we ended him, his throat we cut, flayed him, unhorned him, and my lord Maior shall eat of him anon when he comes. Hark hark, the hunters come, you're best take heed They'll have a saying to you for this deed. God save you fair ladies. Ladies, O gross! Came not a buck this way? No, but two Does. And which way went they? faith we'll hunt at those At those? upon some no: when, can you tell? Upon some, I. Good Lord! Wounds then farewell. Boy, which way went he? This way sir he ran. This way he ran indeed, fair mistress Rose, Our game was lately in your orchard seen. Can you advise which way he took his flight? Follow your nose, his horns will guide you right. Thart a mad wench. O rich! Trust me, not I, It is not like the wild forest dear, Would come so near to places of resort, You are deceived, he fled some other way. Which way my sugar-candy, can you show? Come up good honeysops, upon some, no. Why do you stay, and not pursue your game? I'll hold my life their hunting nags be lame. A dear, more dear is found within this place. But not the deer (sir) which you had in chase. I chased the dear, but this deer chaseth me. The strangest hunting that ever I see, But where's your park? 'tis here: O stay. empale me, and then I will not stray. They wrangle wench, we are more kind than they What kind of heart is that (dear heart) you seek? A heart, dear heart. whoever saw the like? To lose your heart, is't possible you can? My heart is lost. Alack good gentleman. This poor lost heart would I with you might find. You by such luck might prove your heart a hind. Why Luck had horns, so have I heard some say. Now God and't be his will send Luck into your way. What M. Hammon, welcome to old Ford. God's pittikins, hands off sir, here's my Lord. I hear you had ill luck, and lost your game. 'tis true my Lord. I am sorry for the same. What gentleman is this? My brother in law. youare welcome both, sith Fortune offers you Into my hands, you shall not part from hence, Until you have refreshed your wearied limbs: Go Sibyl cover the board, you shall be guest To no good cheer, but even a hunter's feast.
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)
Upon some no, forrester, go by: no faith mistris, the deere came running into the barne through the orchard, and ouer the pale, I wot wel, I lookt as pale as a new chéese to sée him, but whip saies goodman pinne-close, vp with his fiaile, and our Nicke with a prong, and downe he fel, and they vpon him, and I vpon them, by my troth we had such sport, and in the end we ended him, his throate we cut, flead him, vnhornd him, and my lord Maior shal eat of him anon when he comes. Heark heark, the hunters come, y'are best take héed Theyle haue a saying to you for this deede. God saue you faire ladies. Ladies, O grosse! Came not a bucke this way? No, but two Does. And which way went they? faith wéel hunt at those At those? vpon some no: when, can you tell? Upon some, I. Good Lord! Wounds then farewell. Boy, which way went he? This way sir he ranne. This way he ranne indéede, faire mistris Rose, Our game was lately in your orchard séene. Can you aduise which way he tooke his flight? Followe your nose, his hornes will guide you right. Thart a mad wench. O rich! Trust me, not I, It is not like the wild forrest déere, Would come so neare to places of resort, You are deceiu'd, he fled some other way. Which way my suger-candie, can you shew? Come vp good honnisops, vpon some, no. Why doe you stay, and not pursue your game? Ile hold my life their hunting nags be lame. A déere, more deere is found within this place. But not the déere (sir) which you had in chace. I chac'd the déere, but this déere chaceth me. The strangest hunting that euer I see, But wheres your parke? Tis here: O stay. Impale me, and then I will not stray. They wrangle wench, we are more kind then they What kind of hart is that (déere hart) you séeke? A hart, deare hart. Who euer saw the like? To loose your heart, is't possible you can? My heart is lost. Alacke good gentleman. This poore lost hart would I with you might find. You by such lucke might proue your hart a hind. Why Lucke had hornes, so haue I heard some say. Now God and't be his wil send Luck into your way. What M. Hammon, welcome to old Ford. Gods pittikins, hands off sir, héers my Lord. I heare you had ill lucke, and lost your game. Tis true my Lord. I am sorie for the same. What gentleman is this? My brother in law. Y are welcome both, sith Fortune offers you Into my hands, you shal not part from hence, Until you haue refresht yout wearied limmes: Go Sibel couer the boord, you shal be guest To no good cheare, but euen a hunters feast.