Jonson, Ben · published 1616 · first performed or written 1598 (Annals) comedy · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men unassigned nearest T27 Uncles, nephews and cousins: kinship and · 487 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T27: uncle, niece, nephew, gentlemen, faith, cousin, wife, house, gentleman, money.
Why, I hope you will not a hawking now, will you? NO wiss; but I'll practise against next year uncle: I have bought me a hawk, and a hood, and bells, and all; I lack nothing but a book to keep it by. O, most ridiculous. Nay, look you now, you are angry, uncle: why you know, an'a man have not skill in the hawking, and hunting-languages nowadays, I'll not give a rush for him. They are more studied than the Greek, or the Latin. He is for no gallants company without 'em. And by gads lid I scorn it, ay, so I do, to be a consort for every hum drum, hang 'em scroyles, there's nothing in 'em, i' the world. What do you talk on it? Because I dwell at Hogsden, I shall keep company with none but the archers of Finsburie? or the citizens, that come a ducking to Islington ponds? A fine jest i'faith! Slid a gentleman must show himself like a gentleman. Uncle, I pray you be not angry, I know what I have to do, I trow, I am no novice. You are a prodigal absurd coxcomb: Go to. Nay never look at me, it's I that speak. take't as you will sir, I'll not flatter you. Ha' you not yet found means enough, to waste That, which your friends have left you, but you must Go cast away your money on a kite, And know not how to keep it, when you ha'done? O it's comely! this will make you a gentleman! Well cozen, well! I see you are e'en past hope Of all reclaim. ay, so, now you are told on it, You look another way. What would you ha' me do? What would I have you do? I'll tell you kinsman, Learn to be wise, and practise how to thrive, That would I have you do: and not to spend Your coin on every babble, that you fancy, Or every foolish brain, that humours you. I would not have you to invade each place, Nor thrust yourself on all societies, Till men's affections, or your own desert, Should worthily invite you to your rank. He, that is so respectless in his courses, Oft sells his reputation, at cheap market. Nor would I, you should melt away yourself In flashing bravery, lest while you affect To make a blaze of gentry to the world, A little puff of scorn extinguish it, And you be left, like an unsavoury snuff, Whose property is only to offend. I'd ha'you sober, and contain yourself; Not, that your sail be bigger than your boat: But moderate your expenses now (at first) As you may keep the same proportion still. Nor, stand so much on your gentility, Which is an airy, and mere borrowed thing, From dead men's dust, and bones: and none of yours Except you make, or hold it. Who comes here?
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)
Why, I hope you will not a hawking now, will you? NO wusse; but I'll practise against next yeere vncle: I haue bought me a hawke, and a hood, and bells, and all; I lacke nothing but a booke to keepe it by. O, most ridiculous. Nay, looke you now, you are angrie, vncle: why you know, an'a man haue not skill in the hawking, and hunting-languages now a dayes, I'll not giue a rush for him. They are more studied then the Greeke, or the Latine. He is for no gallants companie without 'hem. And by gads lid I scorne it, I, so I doe, to be a consort for euery hum drum, hang 'hem scroyles, there's nothing in 'hem, i' the world. What doe you talke on it? Because I dwell at Hogsden, I shall keepe companie with none but the archers of Finsburie? or the citizens, that come a ducking to Islington ponds? A fine iest ifaith! Slid a gentleman mun show himselfe like a gentleman. Vncle, I pray you be not angrie, I know what I haue to doe, I trow, I am no nouice. You are a prodigall absurd cocks-combe: Goe to. Nay neuer looke at me, it's I that speake. Tak't as you will sir, I'll not flatter you. Ha' you not yet found meanes enow, to wast That, which your friends haue left you, but you must Goe cast away your money on a kite, And know not how to keepe it, when you ha'done? O it's comely! this will make you a gentleman! Well cosen, well! I see you are eene past hope Of all reclaime. I, so, now you are told on it, You looke another way. What would you ha' me doe? What would I haue you doe? I'll tell you kinsman, Learne to be wise, and practise how to thriue, That would I haue you doe: and not to spend Your coyne on euery bable, that you phansie, Or euery foolish braine, that humors you. I would not haue you to inuade each place, Nor thrust your selfe on all societies, Till mens affections, or your owne desert, Should worthily inuite you to your ranke. He, that is so respectlesse in his courses, Oft sells his reputation, at cheape market. Nor would I, you should melt away your selfe In flashing brauerie, least while you affect To make a blaze of gentrie to the world, A little puffe of scorne extinguish it, And you be left, like an vnsauorie snuffe, Whose propertie is onely to offend. I'ld ha'you sober, and containe your selfe; Not, that your sayle be bigger then your boat: But moderate your expences now (at first) As you may keepe the same proportion still. Nor, stand so much on your gentilitie, Which is an aërie, and meere borrow'd thing, From dead mens dust, and bones: and none of yours Except you make, or hold it. Who comes here?