Jonson, Ben · published 1601 · first performed or written 1598 (Annals) comedy · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men T3 Sickness, physic and doctors typicality 0.78 · 513 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T3: doctor, master, cure, disease, pray, physic, physician, mr, sick, lady.
Sister Hesperida, I pray you fetch down the Rose water above in the closet: Sweet heart will you come in to breakfast. And she have overheard me now? I pray thee (good Musse) we stay for you. By Christ I would not for a thousand crowns. What ail you sweet heart, are you not well, speak good Musse. Troth my head aches extremely on a sudden. Oh Iesu! How now? what? Good Lord how it burns? Musse keep you warm, good truth it is this new disease, there's a number are troubled withal: for God's sake sweet heart, come in out of the air. How simple, and how subtle are her answers? A new disease, and many troubled with it. Why true, she heard me all the world to nothing. I pray thee good sweet heart come in; the air will do you harm in troth. I'll come to you presently, it will away I hope. Pray God it do. A new disease? I know not, new or old. But it may well be called poor mortals Plague; For like a pestilence it doth infect The houses of the brain: first it begins Solely to work upon the fantasy, Filling her seat with such pestiferous air, As soon corrupts the judgement, and from thence, Sends like contagion to the memory, Still each of other catching the infection, Which as a searching vapour spreads itself Confusedly through every sensive part, Till not a thought or motion in the mind Be free from the black poison of suspect. Ah, but what error is it to know this, And want the free election of the soul In such extremes? well, I will once more strive, (Even in despite of hell) myself to be, And shake this fever off that thus shakes me. 'Sblood, I cannot choose but laugh to see myself translated thus, from a poor creature to a creator; for now must I create an intolerable sort of lies, or else my profession loses his grace, and yet the lie to a man of my coat, is as ominous as the 〈◊〉 oh sir, it holds for good policy to have that outwardly in vilest estimation, that inwardly is most dear to us: So much for my borrowed shape. Well, the troth is, my master intends to follow his son drie-foot to Florence, this morning: now I knowing of this conspiracy, and the rather to insinuate with my young master, (for so must we that are blue waiters, or men of service do, or else perhaps we may wear motley at the years end, and who wears motley you know:) I have got me afore in this disguise, determining here to lie in ambuscado, & intercept him in the midway: If I can but get his cloak, his purse, his hat, nay any thing so I can stay his journey, Rex Regum, I am made for ever i'faith: well, now must I practise to get the true garb of one of these lanceknights: my arm here, and my: Gods so, young master and his cousin.
nodes 423–456 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 14 of 52 in this edition
Length
513 words · 664 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T3 — Sickness, physic and doctorscross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.783 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
seed 43: T3 · seed 44: T4 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Sister Hesperida, I pray you fetch downe the Rose water aboue in the closet: Sweete hart will you come in to breakfast. And she haue ouer-heard me now? I pray thee (good Musse) we stay for you. By Christ I would not for a thousand crownes. VVhat ayle you sweete hart, are you not well, speake good Musse. Troth my head akes extreamely on a suddaine. Oh Iesu! How now? what? Good Lord how it burnes? Musse keepe you warme, good truth it is this new disease, there's a number are troubled withall: for Gods sake sweete heart, come in out of the ayre. How simple, and how subtill are her answeres? A new disease, and many troubled with it. Why true, she heard me all the world to nothing. I pray thee good sweet heart come in; the ayre will do you harme in troth. Ile come to you presently, it will away I hope. Pray God it do. A new disease? I know not, new or old. But it may well be call'd poore mortals Plague; For like a pestilence it doth infect The houses of the braine: first it begins Solely to worke vpon the fantasie, Filling her seat with such pestiferous aire, As soone corrupts the iudgement, and from thence, Sends like contagion to the memorie, Still each of other catching the infection, Which as a searching vapor spreads it selfe Confusedly through euery sensiue part, Till not a thought or motion in the mind Be free from the blacke poison of suspect. Ah, but what error is it to know this, And want the free election of the soule In such extreames? well, I will once more striue, (Euen in despight of hell) my selfe to be, And shake this feauer off that thus shakes me. S'blood, I cannot chuse but laugh to see my selfe translated thus, from a poore creature to a creator; for now must I create an intolerable sort of lies, or else my profession looses his grace, and yet the lie to a man of my coat, is as ominous as the oh sir, it holds for good policie to haue that outwardly in vilest estimation, that inwardly is most deare to vs: So much for my borrowed shape. Well, the troth is, my maister intends to follow his sonne drie-foot to Florence, this morning: now I knowing of this conspiracie, and the rather to insinuate with my young master, (or so must wee that are blew waiters, or men of seruice doe, or else perhaps wee may weare motley at the yeares end, and who weares motley you know:) I haue got me afore in this disguise, determining here to lie in ambuscado, & intercept him in the midway: If I can but get his cloake, his purse, his hat, nay any thing so I can stay his iourney, Rex Regum, I am made for euer ifaith: well, now must I practise to get the true garbe of one of these Launce-knights: my arme here, and my: Gods so, young master and his cousin.