Jonson, Ben · published 1616 · first performed or written 1598 (Annals) comedy · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men unassigned nearest T40 Sin, guilt and violent loss within famil · 488 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T40: brother, death, life, die, heaven, sin, live, father, blood, soul.
Faith, I am very loath, to utter it, As fearing, it may hurt your patience: But, that I know, your judgement is of strength, Against the nearness of affection— What need this circumstance? pray you be direct. I will not say, how much I do ascribe Unto your friendship; nor, in what regard I hold your love: but, let my past behaviour, And usage of your sister, but confirm How well I'ave been affected to your— You are too tedious, come to the matter, the matter. Then (without further ceremony) thus. My brother WELL-BRED, sir, (I know not how) Of late, is much declined in what he was, And greatly altered in his disposition. When he came first to lodge here in my house, ne'er trust me, if I were not proud of him: methought he bore himself in such a fashion, So full of man, and sweetness in his carriage, And (what was chief) it showed not borrowed in him, But all he did, became him as his own, And seemed as perfect, proper, and possessed As breath, with life, or colour, with the blood. But, now, his course is so irregular, So loose, affected, and deprived of grace, And he himself withal so far fallen off From that first place, as scarce no note remains, To tell men's judgements where he lately stood. he's grown a stranger to all due respect, Forgetful of his friends, and not content To stale himself in all societies, He makes my house here common, as a Mart, A Theater, a public receptacle For giddy humour, and diseased riot; And here (as in a tavern, or a stews) He, and his wild associates, spend their hours, In repetition of lascivious jests, Swear, leap, drink, dance, and revel night by night, Control my servants: and indeed what not? 'Sdeynes, I know not what I should say to him, i' the whole world! He values me, at a cracked three-farthings, for aught I see: It will never out o' the flesh that's bred i' the bone! I have told him enough, one would think, if that would serve: But, counsel to him, is as good, as a shoulder of mutton to a sick horse. Well! he knows what to trust to, for GEORGE. Let him spend, and spend, and domineer, till his heart ache; an' he think to be relieved by me, when he is got into one o'your city pounds, the Counters, he has the wrong sow by the ear, i'faith: and claps his dish at the wrong man's door. I'll lay my hand o' my halfpenny, ere I part with 't, to fetch him out, I'll assure him. Nay, good brother, let it not trouble you, thus. 'S death, he mads me, I could eat my very spurleathers, for anger! But, why are you so tame? Why do not you speak to him, and tell him how he disquiets your house?
seed 43: T37 · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Faith, I am very loath, to vtter it, As fearing, it may hurt your patience: But, that I know, your iudgement is of strength, Against the neerenesse of affection— What need this circumstance? pray you be direct. I will not say, how much I doe ascribe Vnto your friendship; nor, in what regard I hold your loue: but, let my past behauiour, And vsage of your sister, but confirme How well I'aue beene affected to your— You are too tedious, come to the matter, the matter. Then (without further ceremonie) thus. My brother WELL-BRED, sir, (I know not how) Of late, is much declin'd in what he was, And greatly alter'd in his disposition. When he came first to lodge here in my house, Ne're trust me, if I were not proud of him: Me thought he bare himselfe in such a fashion, So full of man, and sweetnesse in his carriage, And (what was chiefe) it shew'd not borrowed in him, But all he did, became him as his owne, And seem'd as perfect, proper, and possest As breath, with life, or colour, with the bloud. But, now, his course is so irregular, So loose, affected, and depriu'd of grace, And he himselfe withall so farre falne off From that first place, as scarse no note remaines, To tell mens iudgements where he lately stood. Hee's growne a stranger to all due respect, Forgetfull of his friends, and not content To stale himselfe in all societies, He makes my house here common, as a Mart, A Theater, a publike receptacle For giddie humour, and diseased riot; And here (as in a tauerne, or a stewes) He, and his wild associates, spend their houres, In repetition of lasciuious iests, Sweare, leape, drinke, dance, and reuell night by night, Controll my seruants: and indeed what not? 'Sdeynes, I know not what I should say to him, i' the whole world! He values me, at a crackt three-farthings, for ought I see: It will neuer out o' the flesh that's bred i' the bone! I haue told him inough, one would thinke, if that would serue: But, counsell to him, is as good, as a shoulder of mutton to a sicke horse. Well! he knowes what to trust to, for GEORGE. Let him spend, and spend▪ and domineere, till his heart ake; an' hee thinke to bee relieu'd by me, when he is got into one o'your citie pounds, the Counters, he has the wrong sow by the eare, ifaith: and claps his dish at the wrong mans dore. I'le lay my hand o' my halfe-peny, e're I part with 't, to fetch him out, I'le assure him. Nay, good brother, let it not trouble you, thus. 'S death, he mads me, I could eate my very spur-lethers, for anger! But, why are you so tame? Why doe not you speake to him, and tell him how he disquiets your house?