Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1597 [Apr 23] (Annals) comedy · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men T41 Household service: masters, doors and po typicality 0.81 · 490 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T41: master, house, door, iohn, old, mistress, basket, lord, gentleman, ick.
Why then you are utterly shamed, & he's but a dead man. What a woman are you? Away with him, away with him. Better shame, than murder. Which way should he go? How should I bestow him? Shall I put him into the basket again? No, I'll come no more i' th' Basket: May I not go out ere he come? Alas: three of Mr. Fords brothers watch the door with Pistols, that none shall issue out: otherwise you might slip away ere he came: But what make you here? What shall I do? I'll creep up into the chimney. There they always use to discharge their Birding-peeces: creep into the Kill-hole. Where is it? He will seek there on my word: Neither Press, Coffer, Chest, Trunk, Well, Vault, but he hath an abstract for the remembrance of such places, and goes to them by his Note: There is no hiding you in the house. I'll go out then. If you go out in your own semblance, you die Sir Iohn, unless you go out disguised. How might we disguise him? Alas the day I know not, there is no woman's gown big enough for him: otherwise he might put on a hat, a muffler, and a kerchief, and so escape. Good hearts, device something: any extremity, rather than a mischief. My Maid's Aunt the fat woman of Brainford, has a gown above. On my word it will serve him: she's as big as he is: and there's her thrummed hat, and her muffler too: run up Sir Iohn. Go, go, sweet Sir Iohn: Mistriis Page and I will look some linen for your head. Quick, quick, we'll come dress you strait: put on the gown the while. I would my husband would meet him in this shape: he cannot abide the old woman of Brainford; he swears she's a witch, forbade her my house, and hath threatened to beat her. Heaven guide him to thy husband's cudgel: and the devil guide his cudgel afterwards. But is my husband coming? I in good sadness is he, and talks of the basket too, howsoever he hath had intelligence. we'll try that: for I'll appoint my men to carry the basket again, to meet him at the door with it, as they did last time. Nay, but he'll be here presently: let's go dress him like the witch of Brainford. I'll first direct direct my men, what they shall do with the basket: Go up, I'll bring linen for him strait. Hang him dishonest Varlet, We cannot misuse enough: We'll leave a proof by that which we will do, Wives may be merry, and yet honest too: We do not act that often, jest, and laugh, 'Tis old, but true, Still Swine eats all the draugh. Go Sirs, take the basket again on your shoulders: your Master is hard at door: if he bid you set it down, obey him: quickly, dispatch.
seed 43: T27 · seed 44: T21 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Why then you are vtterly ſham'd, & hee's but a dead man. What a woman are you? Away with him, away with him▪ Better ſhame, then murther. Which way ſhould he go? How ſhould I beſtow him? Shall I put him into the basket againe? No, Ile come no more i' th Basket: May I not go out ere he come? Alas: three of Mr. Fords brothers watch the doore with Piſtols, that none ſhall iſſue out: otherwiſe you might ſlip away ere hee came: But what make you heere? What ſhall I do? Ile creepe vp into the chimney. There they alwaies vſe to diſcharge their Birding-peeces: creepe into the Kill-hole. Where is it? He will ſeeke there on my word: Neyther Preſſe, Coffer, Cheſt, Trunke, Well, Vault, but he hath an abſtract for the remembrance of ſuch places, and goes to them by his Note: There is no hiding you in the houſe. Ile go out then. If you goe out in your owne ſemblance, you die Sir Iohn, vnleſſe you go out diſguis'd. How might we diſguiſe him? Alas the day I know not, there is no womans gowne bigge enough for him: otherwiſe he might put on a hat, a muffler, and a kerchiefe, and ſo eſcape. Good hearts, deuiſe ſomething: any extremitie, rather then a miſchiefe. My Maids Aunt the fat woman of Brainford, has a gowne aboue. On my word it will ſerue him: ſhee's as big as he is: and there's her thrum'd hat, and her muffler too: run vp Sir Iohn. Go, go, ſweet Sir Iohn: Miſtriis Page and I will looke ſome linnen for your head. Quicke, quicke, wee'le come dreſſe you ſtraight: put on the gowne the while. I would my husband would meete him in this ſhape: he cannot abide the old woman of Brainford; he ſweares ſhe's a witch, forbad her my houſe, and hath threatned to beate her. Heauen guide him to thy husbands cudgell: and the diuell guide his cudgell afterwards. But is my husband comming? I in good ſadneſſe is he, and talkes of the basket too, howſoeuer he hath had intelligence. Wee'l try that: for Ile appoint my men to carry the basket againe, to meete him at the doore with it, as they did laſt time. Nay, but hee'l be heere preſently: let's go dreſſe him like the witch of Brainford. Ile firſt direct direct my men, what they ſhall doe with the basket: Goe vp, Ile bring linnen for him ſtraight. Hang him diſhoneſt Varlet, We cannot miſuſe enough: We'll leaue a proofe by that which we will doo, Wiues may be merry, and yet honeſt too: We do not acte that often, ieſt, and laugh, 'Tis old, but true, Still Swine eats all the draugh. Go Sirs, take the basket againe on your ſhoulders: your Maſter is hard at doore: if hee bid you ſet it downe, obey him: quickly, diſpatch.