Jonson, Ben · published 1602 · first performed or written 1601 (Annals) comedy · Children of the Chapel (second) · Blackfriars T8 Captains, gallants and cheats typicality 0.83 · 479 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T8: captain, master, money, gentleman, little, lieutenant, rogue, pray, minos, honest.
Do you hear, Master Minos? pray let's be used like a man of our own fashion. By Ianus and Iupiter, I meant to have paid you next week, every drachm. Seek not to eclipse my reputation thus vulgarly. Sir, your oaths cannot serve you; you know I have forborn you long. I am conscious of it, Sir. Nay, I beseech you, gentlemans, do not exhale me thus; remember 'tis but for sweet meats— Sweet meat must have sour sauce, Sir. Come along. Sweet Master Minos: I am forfeited to eternal disgrace, if you do not commiserate. Good officer be not so officious. Why how now, my good brace of Bloodhounds? whether do you drag the Gentleman? you Mungrelles, you Curs, you Bandogs, we are Captain Tucca, that talk to you, you inhuman Pilchers. Sir, he is their prisoner. Their Pestilence. What are you, sir? A Citizen of Rome, sir. Then you are not far distant from a Fool, sir. A Apothecary, sir. I knew that was not a Physician; fough: out of my Nostrils, thou stinkst of Lotium, & the Syrringe; away Quacksalver; Follower, my sword. Here, noble Leader, you'll do no harm with it: I'll trust you. Do you hear, You, Goodman slave? Hooke, Ram, Rogue, Catchpole, lose the Gentleman, or by my velvet arms— What will you do, sir? Kiss thy hand, my honourable active Varlet: & embrace thee, thus. O Patiented Metamorphosis! My sword, my tall Rascal. Nay, soft sir; Some wiser than some. What? and a Wit to? By Pluto, thou must be cherished, Slave; here's three Drachmas for thee: hold. There's half his Lend gone. Give me. No sir, your first word shall stand: I'll hold all. Nay, but Rogue: You would make a rescue of our prisoner, Sir, you? I, a rescue? away inhuman Varlet. Come, come; I never relish above one jest at most; do not digest me: Sirrah, do not. Rogue, I tell thee, Rogue, do not. How sir? Rogue? I, why; thou art not angry Rascal? art thou? I cannot tell sir, I am little better, upon these terms. Ha! Gods & Fiends! why dost hear? Rogue, Thou, give me thy hand; I say unto thee, thy hand: Rogue. what? dost not thou know me? not me, Rogue? not Captain Tucca, Rogue? Come: pray surrender the Gentleman his sword, Officer; we'll have no fight here. What's thy name? Minos, an't please you. Minos? come hither, Minos; Thou art a wise Fellow it seems: Let me talk with thee. Was ever wretch so wretched, as unfortunate I? Thou art one of the Centum-viri, Old boy, art ' not? No indeed, Master Captain. Go to, thou shalt be then: I'll ha' thee one, Minos. Take my sword from those Rascals, dost thou see? Go, do it; I cannot attempt with patience. What does this Gentleman own thee, little Minos? Fourscore Sesterces, sir.
nodes 715–753 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 20 of 50 in this edition
Length
479 words · 744 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T8 — Captains, gallants and cheatscross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.830 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
seed 43: T11 · seed 44: T14 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Doe you heare, Maſter Minos? pray' let's be vſ'd like a man of our owne faſhion. By Ianus and Iupiter, I meant to haue payed you next weeke, euery Drachme. Seeke not to ecclipſe my reputation thus vulgarly. Sir, your oathes cannot ſerue you; you knowe I haue forborne you long. I am conſcious of it, Sir. Nay, I beſeech you, Gentlemen, doe not exhale me thus; remember 'tis but for ſweete meates— Sweete meate muſt haue ſower ſauce, Sir. Come along. Sweete Maſter Minos: I am forfeited to eternall diſgrace, if you doe not commiſerate. Good officer bee not ſo officious. VVhy how now, my good brace of Blood-hounds? whether doe you dragge the Gent'man? you Mungrelles, you Curres, you Bandogges, wee are Captaine Tucca, that talke to you, you inhumane Pilchers. Sir, he is their priſoner. Their Peſtilence. VVhat are you, ſir? A Citizen of Rome, ſir. Then you are not farre diſtant from a Foole, ſir. A Pothecary, ſir. I knewe that was not a Phiſitian; fough: out of my Noſtrils, thou ſtinkſt of Lotium, & the Syrringe; away Quackſaluer; Follower, my ſworde. Here, noble Leader, youle do no harme with it: Ile truſt you. Doe you heare, You, Goodman ſlaue? Hooke, Ramme, Rogue, Catchpole, looſe the Gent'man, or by my veluet armes— What will you doe, ſir? Kiſſe thy hande, my honourable actiue Varlet: & imbrace thee, thus. O Patient Metamorphoſis! My ſworde, my tall Raſcall. Nay, ſofte ſir; Some wiſer then ſome. VVhat? and a Wit to? By Pluto, thou muſt be cheriſhed, Slaue; heres three Drachmes for thee: hold. There's halfe his Lendings gone. Giue mee. No ſir, your firſt word ſhall ſtand: Ile holde all. Nay, but Rogue: You would make a reſcue of our priſoner, Sir, you? I, a reſcue? away inhumane Varlet. Come, come; I neuer reliſh aboue one Ieſt at moſt; doe not diſgeſte me: Sirra, do not. Rogue, I tell thee, Rogue, doe not. How ſir? Rogue? I, why; thou art not angry Raſcall? art thou? I cannot tell ſir, I am little better, vpon theſe termes. Ha! Gods & Feinds! why doſt hear? Rogue, Thou, giue me thy hand; I ſay vnto thee, thy hand: Rogue. what? doſt not thou know mee? not me, Rogue? not Captaine Tucca, Rogue? Come: pra' ſurrender the Gentleman his ſword, Officer; we'll haue no fighting here. VVhat's thy name? Minos, an't pleaſe you. Minos? come hyther, Minos; Thou art a wiſe Fellowe it ſeemes: Let me talke with thee. VVas euer wretch ſo wretched, as vnfortunate I? Thou art one of the Centum-viri, Old boy, art' not? Noe indeede, Maſter Captaine. Goe to, thou ſhallt be then: Ile ha' thee one, Minos. Take my ſworde from thoſe Raſcalles, doſt thou ſee? Goe, do it; I cannot attempt with patience. VVhat does this Gentleman owe thee, little Minos? Foureſcore Sesterties, ſir.