S., W. · published 1613 · first performed or written 1600 [c.1599-1602] (Annals) history · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men unassigned nearest T41 Household service: masters, doors and po · 498 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T41: master, house, door, iohn, old, mistress, basket, lord, gentleman, ick.
COme Masters, I think it be past five a clock, Is it not time we were at work? My old Master he'll be stirring anon. I cannot tell whether my old master will be stirring or no: but I am sure I can hardly take my afternoons nap, for my young master Thomas, He keeps such a coi in his study, With the Sun, and the Moon, and the seven stars, That I do verily think he'll read out his wits. He skill of the stars? there's goodman Car of Fulham, He that carried us to the strong Ale, where goody Trundell Had her maid got with child: O he knows the Stars, he'll tickle you Charles Wain in nine degrees, That same man will tell goody Trundell When her Ale shall miscarry, only by the stars. I that's a great virtue indeed, I think Thomas Be no body in comparison to him. Well Masters come, shall we to our hammers? I content, first let's take our morning's draft, And then to work roundly. I agreed, go in Hodge. Good morrow morn, I do salute thy brightness, The night seems tedious to my troubled soul: Whose black obscurity binds in my mind A thousand sundry cogitations▪ And now Aurora with a lively die, Adds comfort to my spirit that mounts on high. Too high indeed, my state being so mean▪ My study like a mineral of gold, Makes my heart proud wherein my hope's enrolled, My books is all the wealth I do possess, And unto them I have engaged my heart, O learning how divine thou seems to me: Within whose arms is all felicity? Peace with your hammers, leave your knocking there, You do disturb my study and my rest, Leave off I say, you mad me with the noise. Why how now Master Thomas how now, Will you not let us work for you? You fret my heart, with making of this noise. How fret your heart? I but Thomas, you'll Fret your father's purse if you let us from working. I this 'tis for him to make him a gentleman. Shall we leave work for your musing, that's well I faith? But here comes my old Master now. You idle knaves, what are you loitering now, No hammers walking and my work to do? What not a heat among your work to day? Marry sir your son Thomas will not let us work at all, Why knave I say, have I thus carked and cared And all to keep thee like a gentleman, And dost thou let my servants at their work: That sweat for thee knave? labour thus for thee? Father their hammers do offend my study. Out of my doors knave if thou likest it not, I cry you mercy is your cares so fine? I tell thee knave these get when I do sleep, I will not have my Anvil stand for thee. There's money father, I will pay your men.
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)
COme Maiſters, I thinke it be paſt fiue a clock, Is it not time we were at worke? My old Maiſter heele be ſtirring anon. I cannot tell whether my old maſter will be ſtirring or no: but I am ſure I can hardly take my afternoones nap, for my young maiſter Thomas, He keepes ſuch a quile in his ſtudie, With the Sunne, and the Moone, and the ſeauen ſtarres, That I doe verily thinke heele read out his wits. He skill of the ſtarres? theres good-man Car of Fulhum, He that carried vs to the ſtrong Ale, where goody Trundell Had her maide got with childe: O he knowes the Starres, Heele tickle you Charles Waine in nine degrees, That ſame man will tell goody Trundell When her Ale ſhall miſcary, onely by the ſtarres. I that's a great vertue indeed, I thinke Thomas Be no body in compariſon to him. Well Maiſters come, ſhall we to our hammers? I content, firſt lets take our mornings draught, And then to worke roundly. I agreed, goe in Hodge. Good morrow morne, I doe ſalute thy brightneſſe, The night ſeemes tedious to my troubled ſoule: Whoſe black obſcuritie binds in my minde A thouſand ſundry cogitations▪ And now Aurora with a liuely dye, Addes comfort to my ſpirit that mounts on high. Too high indeede, my ſtate being ſo meane▪ My ſtudy like a minerall of gold, Makes my hart proude wherein my hope's inrowld, My bookes is all the wealth I doe poſſeſſe, And vnto them I haue ingaged my hart, O learning how deuine thou ſeemes to me: Within whoſe armes is all felicity? Peace with your hammers, leaue your knocking there, You doe diſturbe my ſtudy and my reſt, Leaue off I ſay, you madde me with the noyſe. Why how now Maiſter Thomas how now, Will you not let vs worke for you? You fret my hart, with making of this noiſe. How fret your hart? I but Thomas, youle Fret your fathers purſe if you let vs from working. I this tis for him to make him a gentleman. Shall we leaue worke for your muſing, thats well I faith? But here comes my old Maiſter now. You idle knaues, what are you loytring now, No hammers walking and my worke to doe? What not a heate among your worke to day? Marry ſir your ſonne Thomas will not let vs worke at all, Why knaue I ſay, haue I thus carkde and car'd And all to keepe thee like a gentleman, And doſt thou let my ſeruants at their worke: That ſweat for thee knaue? labour thus for thee? Father their hammers doe offend my ſtudie. Out of my doores knaue if thou likeſt it not, I cry you mercy is your cares ſo fine? I tell thee knaue theſe get when I doe ſleepe, I will not haue my Anuill ſtand for thee. There's mony father, I will pay your men.