Shakespeare, William · published 1602 · first performed or written 1597 [Apr 23] (Annals) comedy · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men · before the Court unassigned nearest T55 Fairies, fairy queens and enchanted desi · 480 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T55: fairy, fairies, oberon, mopsus, queen, land, grace, babylon, mab, thestylis.
See I have spied one by good luck, His body man, his head a buck. God send me good fortune now, and I care not. Go straight, and do as I command, And take a Taper in your hand, And set it to his finger's ends, And if you see it him offends, And that he starteth at the flame, Then is he mortal, know his name: If with an F. it doth begin, Why then be sure he is full of sin. About it then, and know the truth, Of this same metamorphised youth. Give me the Tapers, I will try And if that he love venery. It is right indeed, he is full of lecheries and iniquity. A little distant from him stand, And every one take hand in hand, And compass him within a ring, First pinch him well, and after sing. Horn the hunter quoth you: am I a ghost? 'Sblood the Fairies hath made a ghost of me: What hunting at this time at night? I'll lay my life the mad Prince of Wales Is stealing his father's Dear. How now who have we here, what is all Windsor stirring? Are you there? God save you sir Iohn Falstaff. God plesse you sir Iohn, God plesse you. Why how now sir Iohn, what a pair of horns in your hand? Those horns he meant to place upon my head, And M. Brooke and he should be the men: Why how now sir Iohn, why are you thus amazed? We know the Fairy's man that pinched you so, Your throwing in the Thames, your beating well, And what's to come sir Iohn, that can we tell. Sir Iohn 'tis thus, your dishonest means To call our credits into question, Did make us undertake to our best, To turn your lewd lust to a merry jest. jest, 'tis well, have I lived to these years To be gulled now, now to be ridden? Why then these were not Fairies? No sir Iohn but boys. By the Lord I was twice or thrice in the mind They were not, and yet the grossness Of the foppery persuaded me they were. Well, and the fine wits of the Court hear this, they'll so whip me with their keen jests, That they'll melt me out like tallow, Drop by drop out of my grease. Boys! I trust me boys Sir Iohn: and I was Also a Fairy that did help to pinch you. I, 'tis well I am your Maypole, You have the start of me, Am I ridden too with a wealch goat? With a piece of toasted cheese? Butter is better than cheese sir Iohn, You are all butter, butter. There is a further matter yet sir Iohn, There's 20. pound you borrowed of M. Brooke Sir Iohn, And it must be paid to M. Ford Sir Iohn.
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)
See I haue spied one by good luck, His bodie man, his head a buck. God send me good fortune now, and I care not. Go strait, and do as I commaund, And take a Taper in your hand, And set it to his fingers endes, And if you see it him offends, And that he starteth at the flame, Then is he mortall, know his name: If with an F. it doth begin, Why then be shure he is full of sin. About it then, and know the truth, Of this same metamorphised youth. Giue me the Tapers, I will try And if that he loue venery. It is right indeed, he is full of lecheries and iniquitie. A little distant from him stand, And euery one take hand in hand, And compasse him within a ring, First pinch him well, and after sing. Horne the hunter quoth you: am I a ghost? Sblood the Fairies hath made a ghost of me: What hunting at this time at night? Ile lay my life the mad Prince of Wales Is stealing his fathers Deare. How now who haue we here, what is all Windsor stirring? Are you there? God saue you sir Iohn Falstaffe. God plesse you sir Iohn, God plesse you. Why how now sir Iohn, what a pair of horns in your hand? Those hornes he ment to place vpon my head, And M. Brooke and he should be the men: Why how now sir Iohn, why are you thus amazed? We know the Fairies man that pinched you so, Your throwing in the Thames, your beating well, And whats to come sir Iohn, that can we tell. Sir Iohn tis thus, your dishonest meanes To call our credits into question, Did make vs vndertake to our best, To turne your leaud lust to a merry Iest. Iest, tis well, haue I liued to these yeares To be gulled now, now to be ridden? Why then these were not Fairies? No sir Iohn but boyes. By the Lord I was twice or thrise in the mind They were not, and yet the grosnesse Of the fopperie perswaded me they were. Well, and the fine wits of the Court heare this, Thayle so whip me with their keene Iests, That thayle melt me out like tallow, Drop by drop out of my grease. Boyes! I trust me boyes Sir Iohn: and I was Also a Fairie that did helpe to pinch you. I, tis well I am your May-pole, You haue the start of mee, Am I ridden too with a wealch goate? With a peece of toasted cheese? Butter is better then cheese sir Iohn, You are all butter, butter. There is a further matter yet sir Iohn, There's 20. pound you borrowed of M. Brooke Sir Iohn, And it must be paid to M. Ford Sir Iohn.