Jonson, Ben · published 1616 · first performed or written 1601 (Annals) comedy · Children of the Chapel (second) unassigned nearest T1 Death, grief and revenge · 501 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
I protest to thee, HORACE (do but taste me once) if I do know myself, and mine own virtues truly, thou wilt not make that esteem of VARIUS, or VIRGIL, or TIBULLUS, or any of 'em indeed, as now in thy ignorance thou dost; which I am content to forgive: I would feign see, which of these could pen more verses in a day, or with more facility than I; or that could court his mistress, kiss her hand, make better sport with her fan, or her dog— I cannot bail you yet, sir. Or that could move his body more gracefully, or dance better you should see me, were it not i' the street— Nor yet. Why, I have been a reveller, and at my cloth of silver suit, and my long stocking, in my time, and will be again— If you may be trusted, sir. And then for my singing, HERMOGENES himself envies me; that is your only Master of music you have in Rome. Is your mother living, sir? Au: Convert thy thoughts to somewhat else, I pray thee. You have much of the mother in you, sir: your father is dead? ay, I thank JOVE, and my grandfather too and all my kinsfolks, and well composed in their urns. The more their happiness; that rest in peace, Free from th'abundant torture of thy tongue; Would I were with them too. What's that, HORACE? I now remember me, sir, of a sad fate A cunning woman, one SABELLA sung, When in her urn, she cast my destiny, I being but a child What was't I pray thee? she told me, I should surely never perish By famine, poison, or the enemy's sword; The hectic fever, cough, or pleurisy, Should never hurt me; nor the tardy gout: But in my time, I should be once surprised, By a strong tedious talker, that should vex And almost bring me to consumption. Therefore (if I were wise) she warned me shun All such long-winded monsters, as my bane: For if I could but scape that one discourser, I might (no doubt) prove an old aged man. By your leave, sir? Tut, tut: abandon this idle humour, 'tis nothing but melancholy. Fore JOVE, now I think on't, I am to appear in court here, to answer to one that has me in suit; sweet HORACE, go with me, this is my hour: if I neglect it, the law proceeds against me. Thou art familiar with these things, pray thee, if thou lov'st me, go. Now, let me die, sir, if I know your laws; Or have the power to stand still half so long In their loud courts, as while a case is Argued. Besides, you know, sir, where I am to go, And the necessity— 'Tis true:— I hope the hour of my release be come: He will (upon this consideration) discharge me, sure. Troth, I am doubtful, what I may best do; whether to leave thee, or my affairs, HORACE?
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)
I protest to thee, HORACE (doe but taste mee once) if I doe know my selfe, and mine owne vertues truely, thou wilt not make that esteeme of VARIVS, or VIRGIL, or TIBVLLVS, or any of 'hem indeed, as now in thy ignorance thou dost; which I am content to forgiue: I would faine see, which of these could pen more verses in a day, or with more facilitie then I; or that could court his mistris, kisse her hand, make better sport with her fanne, or her dogge— I cannot baile you yet, sir. Or that could moue his body more gracefully, or dance better you shoo'd see mee, were it not i' the street— Nor yet. Why, I haue beene a reueller, and at my cloth of siluer sute, and my long stocking, in my time, and will be againe— If you may be trusted, sir. And then for my singing, HERMOGENES himselfe enuies me; that is your onely Master of musique you haue in Rome. Is your mother liuing, sir? Au: Conuert thy thoughts to somewhat else, I pray thee. You haue much of the mother in you, sir: your father is dead? I, I thanke IOVE, and my grand-father too and all my kinsfolkes, and well compos'd in their vrnes. The more their happinesse; that rest in peace, Free from th'abundant torture of thy tongue; Would I were with them too. What's that, HORACE? I now remember me, sir, of a sad fate A cunning woman, one SABELLA sung, When in her rne, she cast my destinie, I being but a child What was't I pray thee? Shee told me, I should surely neuer perish By famine, poyson, or the enemies sword; The hecticke feuer, cough, or pleurisie, Should neuer hurt me; nor the tardie gowt: But in my time, I should be once surpriz'd, By a strong tedious talker, that should vexe And almost bring me to consumption. Therefore (if I were wise) she warn'd me shunne All such long-winded monsters, as my bane: For if I could but scape that one discourser, I might (no doubt) proue an olde aged man. By your leaue, sir? Tut, tut: abandon this idle humour, 'tis nothing but melancholy. Fore IOVE, now I thinke ot, I am to appeare in court here, to answere to one that has me in suit; sweet HORACE, goe with mee, this is my houre: if I neglect it, the law proceedes against me. Thou art familiar with these things, pray thee, if thou lou'st me, goe. Now, let me dye, sir, if I know your lawes; Or haue the power to stand still halfe so long In their loud courts, as while a case is Argued. Besides, you know, sir, where I am to goe, And the necessitie— 'Tis true:— I hope the houre of my release be come: Hee will (vpon this consideration) discharge me, sure. Troth, I am doubtfull, what I may best doe; whether to leaue thee, or my affaires, HORACE?