S., W. · published 1602 · first performed or written 1600 [c.1599-1602] (Annals) history · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men unassigned nearest T52 Prodigals, portions and poor kin · 493 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T52: brother, father, uncle, cousin, son, poor, bread, old, given, master.
Have I thus brought thee up unto my cost, In hope that one day thou wouldst relieve my age, And art thee now so lavish of thy coin, To scatter it among these idle knaves. Father be patient, and content yourself, The time will come I shall hold gold as trash: And here I speak with a presaging soul, To build a palace where now this cottage stands, As fine as is King Henry's house at Sheen. You build a house, you knave you'll be a beggar, Now afore God all is but cast away, That is bestowed upon this thriftless lad, Well had I bound him to some honest trade: This had not been, but it was his mother's doing, To send him to the University, How build a house where now this cottage stands, As fair as that at Sheen, he shall not hear me, A good boy Tom, I con thee thank Tom, Well said Tom, gramercies Tom, In to your work knaves, hence you saucy boy. Why should my birth keep down my mounting spirit, Are not all creatures subject unto time: To time, who doth abuse the world, And fills it full of hodgepodge bastardy, There's legions now of beggars on the earth, That their original did spring from Kings: And many monarch now whose fathers were, The riff-raff of their age: for Time and Fortune Wears out a noble train to beggary, And from the dunghill minions do advance To state: and mark in this admiring world, This is but course, which in the name of Fate, Is seen as often as it whirls about: The River Thames that by our door doth pass, His first beginning is but small and shallow: Yet keeping on his course, grows to a sea. And likewise Wolsey, the wonder of our age, His birth as mean as mine, a butcher's son, Now who within this land a greater man. Then Cromwell cheer thee up, and tell thy soul, That thou mayst live to flourish and control. Tom Cromwell, what Tom I say? Do you call sir. Here is master Bowser come to know, if you have dispatched his petition, for the Lords of the counsel or no. Father I have, please you to call him in. That's well said Tom, a good lad Tom. Now Master Cromwell, have you dispatched this petition? I have sir, here it is, please you peruse it. It shall not need, we'll read it as we go by water: And Master Cromwell, I have made a motion May do you good, and if you like of it. Our Secretary at Antwerp, sir is dead, And the Merchants there hath sent to me, For to provide a man fit for the place: Now I do know none fitter than yourself, If with your liking it stand master Cromwell. With all my heart sir, and I much am bound, In love and duty for your kindness shown.
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)
Haue I thus brought thee vp vnto my cost, In hope that one day thou wouldst releeue my age, And art thee now so lauish of thy coine, To scatter it among these idle knaues. Father be patient, and content your selfe, The time will come I shall hold golde as trash: And here I speake with a presaging soule, To build a pallace where now this cottage standes, As fine as is King Henries house at Sheene. You build a house, you knaue youle be a begger, Now afore God all is but cast away, That is bestowed vpon this thriftlesse lad, Well had I bound him to some honest trade: This had not beene, but it was his morhers doing, To send him to the Vniuersitie, How build a house where now this cottage standes, As faire as that at Sheene, he shall not here me, A good boy Tom, I con thee thanke Tom, Well said Tom, gramarcies Tom, Into your worke knaues, hence you sausie boy. Why should my birth keepe downe my mounting spirit, Are not all creatures subiect vnto time: To time, who doth abuse the world, And filles it full of hodge-podge bastardie, Theres legions now of beggars on the earth, That their originall did spring from Kings: And manie Monarkes now whose fathers were, The riffe-raffe of their age: for Time and Fortune Weares out a noble traine to beggerie, And from the dunghill minions doe aduance To state: and marke in this admiring world, This is but course, which in the name of Fate, Is seene as often as it whirles about: The Riuer Thames that by our doore doth passe, His first beginning is but small and shallow: Yet keeping on his course, growes to a sea. And likewise Wolsey, the wonder of our age, His birth as meane as mine, a Butchers sonne, Now who within this land a greater man. Then Cromwell cheere thee vp, and tell thy soule, That thou maist liue to flourish and controule. Tom Cromwell, what Tom I say? Do you call sir. Here is maister Bowser come to know, if you haue dispatched his petition, for the Lords of the counsell or no. Father I haue, please you to call him in. Thats well said Tom, a good lad Tom. Now Maister Cromwell, haue you dispatched this petition? I haue sir, here it is, please you peruse it. It shall not need, weele read it as we go by water: And Maister Cromwell, I haue made a motion May do you good, and if you like of it. Our Secretarie at Antwarpe, sir is dead, And the Marchants there hath sent to me, For to prouide a man fit for the place: Now I do know none fitter then yourselfe, If with your liking it stand maister Cromwell. With all my hart sir, and I much am bound, In loue and dutie for your kindnesse showne.