Jonson, Ben · published 1616 · first performed or written 1598 (Annals) comedy · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men unassigned nearest T51 Parents and children: blessing, birthrig · 465 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T51: esau, iacob, father, son, isaac, god, love, birthright, parents, thing.
Sir. Is the fellow gone that brought this letter? Yes, sir, a pretty while since. And, where's your young master? In his chamber sir. He spoke not with the fellow! did he? No sir, he saw him not. Take you this letter, and deliver it my son But with no notice, that I have opened it, on your life. O lord, sir, that were a jest, indeed! I am resolved, I will not stop his journey; Nor practise any violent mean, to stay The unbridled course of youth in him: for that, Restrained, grows more impatient, and, in-kind, Like to the eager, but the generous greyhound; Who ne'er so little from his game withheld, Turns head, and leaps up at his holder's throat. There is a way of winning, more by love, And urging of the modesty, than fear: Force works on servile natures, not the free. He, that's compelled to goodness, may be good; But 'tis but for that fit: where others drawn By softness, and example, get a habit. Then, if they stray, but warn 'em: and, the same They should for virtue have done, they'll do for shame. DId he open it, sayest thou? Yes, o' my word sir, and read the contents. That scarce contents me. What countenance (prithee) made he, i' the reading of it? was he angry, or pleased? Nay sir, I saw him not read it, nor open it, I assure your worship. No? how know'st thou, then, that he did either? marry sir, because he charged me, on my life, to tell nobody, that he opened it: which, unless he had done, he would never fear to have it revealed. That's true: well I thank thee, Brainworm. O, Brainworm, didst thou not see a fellow here in a what-sha'-call-him doublet! he brought mine uncle a letter e'en now. Yes, master STEPHEN, what of him? O, I ha' such a mind to beat him— Where is he? canst thou tell? Faith, he is not of that mind: he is gone, master STEPHEN. Gone? which way? when went he! how long since? He is rid hence. He took horse, at the street door. And, I stayed i' the fields! whoreson scander-bag rogue! O that I had but a horse to fetch him back again. Why, you may ha' my mrs. gelding, to save your longing, sir. But, I ha' no boots, that's the spite on't. Why, a fine wisp of hay, rolled hard, master STEPHEN. No faith, it's no boot to follow him, now: let him e'en go, and hang. Pray thee, help to truss me, a little. He does so vex me— You'll be worse vexed, when you are trussed, master STEPHEN. Best, keep unbraced; and walk yourself, till you be cold: your choler may founder you else.
seed 43: T52 · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Sir. Is the fellow gone that brought this letter? Yes, sir, a pretie while since. And, where's your yong master? In his chamber sir. He spake not with the fellow! did he? No sir, he saw him not. Take you this letter, and deliuer it my sonne But with no notice, that I haue open'd it, on your life. O lord, sir, that were a iest, indeed! I am resolu'd, I will not stop his iourney; Nor practise any violent meane, to stay The vnbridled course of youth in him: for that, Restrain'd, growes more impatient, and, in-kind, Like to the eager, but the generous grey-hound; Who ne're so little from his game with-held, Turnes head, and leapes vp at his holders throat. There is a way of winning, more by loue, And vrging of the modestie, then feare: Force workes on seruile natures, not the free. He, that's compell'd to goodnesse, may be good; But 'tis but for that fit: where others drawne By softnesse, and example, get a habit. Then, if they stray, but warne 'hem: and, the same They should for vertu'haue done, they'll doe for shame. DId he open it, sayest thou? Yes, o' my word sir, and read the contents. That scarse contents me. What countenance (pr'y thee) made he, i' the reading of it? was he angrie, or pleas'd? Nay sir, I saw him not reade it, nor open it, I assure your worship. No? how know'st thou, then, that he did either? Marie sir, because he charg'd me, on my life, to tell nobodie, that he open'd it: which, vnlesse hee had done, hee would neuer feare to haue it reueal'd. That's true: well I thanke thee, BLAYNE-WORME. O, BRAYNE-WORME, did'st thou not see a fellow here in a what-sha'-call-him doublet! he brought mine vncle a letter e'en now. Yes, master STEPHEN, what of him? O, I ha' such a minde to beate him—Where is hee? canst thou tell? Faith, he is not of that mind: he is gone, master STEPHEN. Gone? which way? when went he! how long since? He is rid hence. He tooke horse, at the streete dore. And, I staid i' the fields! horson scander-bag rogue! Ô that I had but a horse to fetch him backe againe. Why, you may ha' my mrs. gelding, to saue your longing, sir. But, I ha' no bootes, that's the spight on't. Why, a fine wispe of hay, rould hard, master STEPHEN. No faith, it's no boote to follow him, now: let him eene goe, and hang. 'Pray thee, helpe to trusse me, a little. He dos so vexe me— You'll be worse vex'd, when you are truss'd, master STEPHEN. Best, keepe vn-brac'd; and walke your selfe, till you be cold: your choller may foundre you else.