Jonson, Ben · published 1616 · first performed or written 1598 (Annals) comedy · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men unassigned nearest T52 Prodigals, portions and poor kin · 457 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T52: brother, father, uncle, cousin, son, poor, bread, old, given, master.
By my faith, and so I will, now thou tell'st me on't: How dost thou like my leg, Brainworm? A very good leg! master STEPHEN! but the woollen stocking does not commend it so well. Foh, the stockings be good enough, now summer is coming on, for the dust: I'll have a pair of silk, again' winter, that I go to dwell i' the town. I think my leg would show in a silk-hose. Believe me, master STEPHEN, rarely well, In sadness, I think it would: I have a reasonable good leg. You have an excellent good leg, master STEPHEN, but I cannot stay, to praise it longer now, and I am very sorry for't. Another time will serve, Brainworm. Gramercy for this. Ha, ha, ha! 'Slid, I hope, he laughs not at me, and he do— Here was a letter, indeed, to be intercepted by a man's father, and do him good with him! He cannot but think most virtuously, both of me, and the sender, sure; that make the careful Costermonger of him in our familiar Epistles. Well, if he read this with patience, I'll be gelt, and troll ballads for Mr. JOHN TRUNDLE, yonder, the rest of my mortality. It is true, and likely, my father may have as much patience as another man; for he takes much physic: and, oft taking physic makes a man very patient. But would your packet, master Wellbred, had arrived at him, in such a minute of his patience; then, we had known the end of it, which now is doubtful, and threatens— What! my wise cousin! Nay, then, I'll furnish our feast with one gull more toward the mess. He writes to me of a brace, and here's one, that's three: O, for a fourth; Fortune, if ever thou'lt use thine eyes, I entreat thee— O, now I see, who he laughed at. He laughed at somebody in that letter. By this good light, and he had laughed at me— How now, cousin STEPHEN, melancholy? Yes, a little. I thought, you had laughed at me, cousin. Why, what an' I had coz, what would you ha' done? By this light, I would ha' told mine uncle. Nay, if you would ha'told your uncle, I did laugh at you, coz. Did you, indeed? Yes, indeed. Why, then— What then? I am satisfied, it is sufficient. Why, be so gentle coz. And, I pray you let me entreat a courtesy of you. I am sent for, this morning, by a friend i' the old Iewrie to come to him; It's but crossing over the fields to More-gate: Will you bear me company? I protest, it is not to draw you into bond, or any plot against the state, coz.
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)
By my faith, and so I will, now thou tell'st me on't: How dost thou like my legge, BRAYNE-WORME? A very good leg! master STEPHEN! but the woollen stocking do's not commend it so well. Foh, the stockings be good inough, now summer is comming on, for the dust: Ile haue a paire of silke, again'winter, that I goe to dwell i' the towne. I thinke my legge would shew in a silke-hose. Beleeue me, master STEPHEN, rarely well, In sadnesse, I thinke it would: I haue a reasonable good legge. You haue an excellent good legge, master STEPHEN, but I cannot stay, to praise it longer now, and I am very sorie for't. Another time wil serue, BRAYNE-WORME. Gramercie for this. Ha, ha, ha! Slid, I hope, he laughes not at me, and he doe — Here was a letter, indeede, to be intercepted by a mans father, and doe him good with him! Hee cannot but thinke most vertuously, both of me, and the sender, sure; that make the carefull Costar'-monger of him in our familiar Epistles. Well, if he read this with patience, Ile be gelt, and troll ballads for Mr. IOHN TRVNDLE, yonder, the rest of my mortalitie. It is true, and likely, my father may haue as much patience as another man; for he takes much physicke: and, oft taking physicke makes a man very patient. But would your packet, master WEL-BRED, had arriu'd at him, in such a minute of his patience; then, we had knowne the end of it, which now is doubtfull, and threatens—What! my wise cossen! Nay, then, Il efurnish our feast with one gull more to'ard the messe. He writes to me of a brace, and here's one, that's three: O, for a fourth; Fortune, if euer thou'lt vse thine eyes, I intreate thee— O, now I see, who hee laught at. Hee laught at some-body in that letter. By this good light, and he had laught at me — How now, coussen STEPHEN, melancholy'? Yes, a little. I thought, you had laught at me, cossen. Why, what an' I had cousse, what would you ha' done? By this light, I would ha' told mine vncle. Nay, if you wold ha'told your vncle, I did laugh at you, cousse. Did you, indeede? Yes, indeede. Why, then— What then? I am satisfied, it is sufficient. Why, bee so gentle cousse. And, I pray you let me intreate a courtesie of you. I am sent for, this morning, by a friend i' the old Iewrie to come to him; It's but crossing ouer the fields to More-gate: Will you beare me companie? I protest, it is not to draw you into bond, or any plot against the state, cousse.