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 · 504 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T52: brother, father, uncle, cousin, son, poor, bread, old, given, master.
Now God bless thee, my good Lord Tom, I'll fetch my Cow presently. Sirrah, go to yond stranger, tell him I desire him Stay at dinner, I must speak with him; My Lord of Norfolk: see you this same bubble, That same puff, but mark the end, my Lord mark the end. I promise you, I like not something he hath done, But let that pass, the King doth love him well. God morrow to my Lord of Winchester, I know you bear me hard, about the abbey lands. Have I not reason, when religion is wronged, You had no colour for what you have done. Yes the abolishing of Antichrist, And of this Popish order from our Realm: I am no enemy to religion, But what is done, it is for England's good, What did they serve for but to feed a sort: Of lazy abbots, and of full fed Friars, They neither plow, nor sow, and yet they reap, The fat of all the Land, and suck the poor: Look what was theirs, is in King Henry's hands, His wealth before lay in the abbey lands. Indeed these things you have alleged my Lord, When God doth know the infant yet unborn: Will curse the time, the Abbeys were pulled down, I pray now where is hospitality, Where now may poor distressed people go: For to relieve their need, or rest their bones, When weary travel doth oppress their limbs, And where religious men should take them in, Shall now be kept back with a mastiff dog, And thousand thousand. O my Lord no more: things past redress, 'tis bootless to complain. What shall we to the Convocation house. we'll follow you my Lord, pray lead the way. How, one Cromwell made Lord Keeper since I left Putney And dwelled in Yorkshire, I never heard better news: I'll see that Cromwell, or it shall go hard. My aged father: state set aside, Father on my knee I crave your blessing: One of my servants go and have him in, At better leisure will we talk with him. Now if I die, how happy were the day, To see this comfort rains forth showers of joy. This duty in him shows a kind of grace, Go on before for time draws on apace. I wonder what this Lord would have with me, His man so strictly gave me charge to stay: I never did offend him to my knowledge, Well, good or bad, I mean to bide it all, Worse than I am, now never can befall. Come wife I take it be almost dinner time, For master Newton, and master Crosby sent to me: Last night, they would come dine with me, And take their bond in: I pray thee hie thee home, And see that all things be in readiness. They shallbe welcome, husband i'll go before, But is not that man master Friskiball: O heavens it is kind master Friskiball, Say sir, what hap hath brought you to this pass.
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)
Now God blesse thee, my good Lorde Tom, Ile fetch my Cow presentlie. Sirra, goe to yon stranger, tell him I desire him Stay at dinner, I must speake with him; My Lorde of Norffolke: see you this same bubble, That same puffe, but marke the end, my Lord marke the ende. I promise you, I like not somthing he hath done, But let that passe, the King doth loue him well. God morrow to my Lord of Winchester, I know you beare me hard, about the Abbie landes. Haue I not reason, when religion is wronged, You had no colour for what you haue done. Yes the abolishing of Antichrist, And of this Popish order from our Realme: I am no enemy to religion, But what is done, it is for Englands good, What did they serue for but to feede a sort: Oflazie Abbotes, and of full fed Fryers, They neither plow, nor sowe, and yet they reape, The fat of all the Land, and sucke the poore: Looke what was theirs, is in King Henries handes, His wealth before lay in the Abbie lands. Indeede these things you haue aledged my Lord, When God doth know the infant yet vnborne: Will curse the time, the Abbies were puld downe, I pray now where is hospitality, Where now may poore distressed people go: For to releeue their neede, or rest their bones, When weary trauell doth oppresse their limmes, And where religious men should take them in, Shall now be kept backe with a Mastiue dogge, And thousand thousand. O my Lord no more: thinges past redresse, Tis bootelesse to complaine. What shall we to the Conuocation house. Weele fellow you my Lord, praie leade the way. How, one Cromwell made Lord Keeper since I left Putnay And dwelt in Yorkeshire, I neuer hard better newes: Ile see that Cromwell, or it shall goe hard. My aged father: state set aside, Father on my knee I craue your blessing: One of my seruantes go and haue him in, At better leasure will we talke with him. Now if I die, how happy were the day, To see this comfort raines forth showers of ioy. This dutie in him showes a kinde of grace, Go on before for time drawes on apace. I wonder what this Lord would haue with me, His man so stricktlie gaue me charge to stay: I neuer did offend him to my knowledge, Well, good or bad, I meane to bide it all, Worse then I am, now neuer can befall. Come wife I take it be almost dinner time, For maister Newton, and maister Crosbie sent to me: Last night, they would come dine with me, And take their bond in: I pray thee hie thee home, And see that all things be in readinesse. They shalbe welcome, husband ile go before, But is not that man maister Friskiball: O heauens it is kinde maister Friskiball, Say sir, what hap hath brought you to this passe.