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 · 488 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.
At your worship's pleasure, sir; nay, 'tis a most pure Toledo. I had rather it were a Spaniard! but tell me, what shall I give you for it? An' it had a silver hilt— Come, come, you shall not buy it; hold, there's a shilling fellow, take thy rapier. Why, but I will buy it now, because you say so, and there's another shilling, fellow. I scorn to be out-bidden. What, shall I walk with a cudgel, like Higgin-Bottom? and may have a rapier, for money? You may buy one in the city. Tut, I'll buy this i'the field, so I will, I have a mind to't, because 'tis a field rapier. Tell me your lowest price. You shall not buy it, I say. By this money, but I will, though I give more than 'tis worth. Come away, you are a fool. Friend, I am a fool, that's granted: but I'll have it, for that words sake. Follow me, for your money. At your service, sir. I Cannot lose the thought, yet, of this letter, Sent to my son: nor leave t'admire the change Of manners, and the breeding of our youth, Within the kingdom, since myself was one. When I was young, he lived not in the stews, Durst have conceived a scorn, and uttered it, On a grey head; age was authority Against a buffoon: and a man had, then, A certain reverence paid unto his years, That had none due unto his life. So much The sanctity of some prevailed, for others. But, now, we all are fallen; youth, from their fear: And age, from that, which bred it, good example. Nay, would ourselves were not the first, even parents, That did destroy the hopes, in our own children: Or they not learned our vices, in their cradles, And sucked in our ill customs, with their milk. Ere all their teeth be borne, or they can speak, We make their palates cunning! The first words, We form their tongues with, are licentious jests! Can it call, whore? cry, bastard? O, then, kiss it, A witty child! Can't swear? The father's darling! Give it two plums. Nay, rather than 't shall learn No bawdy song, the mother herself will teach it! But, this is in the infancy; the days Of the long coat: when it puts on the breeches, It will put off all this. ay, it is like: When it is gone into the bone already. No, no: This die goes deeper than the coat, Or shirt, or skin. It stains, unto the liver, And heart, in some. And, rather, than it should not, Note, what we fathers do! Look, how we live! What mistresses we keep! at what expense, In our sons eyes! where they may handle our gifts, Hear our lascivious courtships, see our dalliance, Taste of the same provoking meats, with us, To ruin of our states! Nay, when our own
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)
At your worships pleasure, sir; nay, 'tis a most pure Toledo. I had rather it were a Spaniard! but tell me, what shall I giue you for it? An' it had a siluer hilt— Come, come, you shall not buy it; hold, there's a shilling fellow, take thy rapier. Why, but I will buy it now, because you say so, and there's another shilling, fellow. I scorne to be out-bidden. What, shall I walke with a cudgell, like Higgin-Bottom? and may haue a rapier, for money? You may buy one in the citie. Tut, Ile buy this i'the field, so I will, I haue a mind to't, because 'tis a field rapier. Tell me your lowest price. You shall not buy it, I say. By this money, but I will, though I giue more then 'tis worth. Come away, you are a foole. Friend, I am a foole, that's granted: but Ile haue it, for that words sake. Follow me, for your money. At your seruice, sir. I Cannot loose the thought, yet, of this letter, Sent to my sonne: nor leaue t'admire the change Of manners, and the breeding of our youth, Within the kingdome, since my selfe was one. When I was yong, he liu'd not in the stewes, Durst haue conceiu'd a scorne, and vtter'd it, On a grey head; age was authoritie Against a buffon: and a man had, then, A certaine reuerence pai'd vnto his yeeres, That had none due vnto his life. So much The sanctitie of some preuail'd, for others. But, now, we all are fall'n; youth, from their feare: And age, from that, which bred it, good example. Nay, would our selues were not the first, euen parents, That did destroy the hopes, in our owne children: Or they not learn'd our vices, in their cradles, And suck'd in our ill customes, with their milke. Ere all their teeth be borne, or they can speake, We make their palats cunning! The first wordes, We forme their tongues with, are licentious iests! Can it call, whore? crie, bastard? Ô, then, kisse it, A wittie child! Can't sweare? The fathers dearling! Giue it two plums. Nay, rather then 't shall learne No bawdie song, the mother' her selfe will teach it! But, this is in the infancie; the dayes Of the long coate: when it puts on the breeches, It will put off all this. I, it is like: When it is gone into the bone alreadie. No, no: This die goes deeper then the coate, Or shirt, or skin. It staines, vnto the liuer, And heart, in some. And, rather, then it should not, Note, what we fathers doe! Looke, how we liue! What mistresses we keepe! at what expense, In our sonnes eyes! where they may handle our gifts, Heare our lasciuious courtships, see our dalliance, Tast of the same prouoking meates, with vs, To ruine of our states! Nay, when our owne