S., W. · published 1613 · first performed or written 1600 [c.1599-1602] (Annals) history · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men unassigned nearest T52 Prodigals, portions and poor kin · 491 words · other edition — not in the analysis
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 patiented, 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, gramarcy's Tom, Into 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 riffraff 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, groves 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 greaterman? 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 of 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 fit 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 ſtands, 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 mothers doing, To ſend him to the Vniuerſitie: How builde a houſe where now this cottage ſtands, 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 baſtardy, There's legions now of beggars on the earth, That their originall did ſpring from Kings: And many Monarkes now whoſe fathers were, The riffe-raffe of their age: for time and Fortune Weares out a noble traine to beggery, 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, groues to a ſea. And likewiſe Wlſay, the wonder of our age, His birth as meane as mine, a Butchers ſonne Now who within this land a greaterman? Then Cromwell cheere thee vp, and tell thy ſoule, That thou maiſt liue to flouriſh and controule. Tom Cromwell, what Tom I ſay. Doe 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. That's 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 goe by water: And Maiſter Cromwell, I haue made a motion May doe you good, and of 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 doe know none fitter then your ſelfe, If with your liking it ſtand Maiſter Cromwell. With all my hart ſir, and I much am bound, In loue and duty for your kindneſſe ſhowne.