Satiromastix, or The Untrussing of the Humorous Poet · chunk 6 of 44
Dekker, Thomas · published 1602 · first performed or written 1601 (Annals) comedy · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men and Children of Paul's (second) unassigned nearest T8 Captains, gallants and cheats · 505 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T8: captain, master, money, gentleman, little, lieutenant, rogue, pray, minos, honest.
ay, ay, ay, excellent sumpter horses, carry good clothes; but honest rogue, come, what news, what news abroad? I have heard a the horses walking a'th' top of Paul's. Haye? why then Captain Tucca rails upon you most preposterously behind your back, did you not hear him? A pox upon him: by the white & soft hand of Minerva, I'll make him the most ridiculous: dam me if I bring not's humor ath stage: &— scurvy limping tongued captain, poor greasy buff jerkin, hang him: 'tis out of his Element to traduce me: I am too well ranked Asinius to be stabbed with his dudgeon wit: sirrah, I'll compose an Epigram, upon him, shall go thus— Nay I ha' more news, there's Crispinus & his jorneyman Poet Demetrius Faninus too, they swear they'll bring your life & death upo'th' stage like a Bricklayer in a play. Bubo they must press more valiant wits than their own to do it: me ath stage? ha, ha, I'll start thence poor copper-lace workmasters, that dare play me: I can bring (& that they quake at) a prepared troup of gallants, who for my sake shall distaste every unsalted line, in their fly-blown Comedies Nay that's certain, i'll bring 100. gallants of my rank That same Crispinus is the silliest Dor, and Faninus the slightest cobweb-lawn pierce of a Poet, oh God! Why should I care what every Dor doth buzz. Incredulous ears, it is a crown to me. That the best judgements can report me wronged. I am one of them that can report it: I think but what they are, and am not moved. The one a light voluptuous Reveller, The other, a strange arrogating puff, Both impudent, and arrogant enough. 'Slid do not Criticus Revel in these lines, ha Ningle ha? Yes, they're mine own. Horace. Flaccus. Horace, not up yet; Peace, tread softly, hide my Paper; who's this so early? Some of my rooks, some of my gulls? Horace, Flaccus. Who's there? stray, tread softly: What Terill on my life: who's there? my gown sweet rogue, so, come up, come in. God morrow Horace. O, God save you gallants. Asinius Bubo well met. Nay I hope so Crispinus, yet I was sick a quarter of a year a got of a vehement great toothache: a pox o't, it bit me vilely, as God same la I knew 'twas you by your knocking so soon as I saw you; Demetrius Fannius, will you take a whiff this morning? I have tickling gear now, here's that will play with your nose, and a pipe of mine own scouring too. ay, and a Hogshead too of your own, but that will never be scoured clean I fear. I burned my pipe yesternight, and 'twas never used since, if you will 'tis at your service gallants, and Tobacco too, 'tis right pudding I can tell you; a Lady or two, took a pipe full or two at my hands, and praised it for the Heavens, shall I fill Flannius?
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)
I, I, I, excellent sumpter horses, carry good cloaths; but honest roague, come, what news, what newes abroad? I haue heard a the horses walking ah top of Paules. Haye? why thē Captain Tucca rayles vpon you most preposterously behinde your backe, did you not heare him▪ A pox vpon him: by the white & soft hand of Minerua, Ile make him the most ridiculous: dam me if I bring not's humorath stage: &—scuuy lymping tongu'd captaine, poor greaie buffe lerkin, hang him: tis out of his Element to traduce me: I am too well ranckt Asinius to bee stab'd with his dudgion wit: sirra, Ile compose an Epigram, vpon him, shall goe thus— Nay I ha more news, ther's Crispinus & his Iorneyman Poet Demetrius Faninus too, they sweare they'll bring your life & death vpon'th stage like a Bricklayer in a play. Bubo they must presse more valiant wits than theyr own to do it: me th stage? ha, ha, Ile starte thence poore copper-lace workmasters, that dare play me: I can bring (& that they quake at) a prepar'd troope of gallants, who for my sake shal distaste euery vnsalted line, in their y-blowne Comedies Nay thats certaine, ile bring 100. gallants of my ranke That same Crispinus is the silliest Dor, and Faninus the slightest cob-web-lawne perce of a Poet, oh God! Why should I care what euery Dor doth buz. Incredulous eares, it is a crowne to me. That the best iudgements can report me wrong'd. I am one of them that can report it: I thinke but what they are, and am not moou'd. The one a light ptuous Reueler, The other, a strange arrogating puffe, Both impudent, and arrogant enough. S'lid do not Cricus Reuel in these lynes, ha Ningle ha? Yes, they're mine owne. Horrace. Flaccus. Horrace, not vp yet; Peace, tread sotly, hyde my Paper; who's this so early? Some of my rookes, some of my guls? Horrace, Flacus. Who's there? stay, treade softly: Wat Terill on my life: who's there? my gowne sweete roague, so, come vp, come in. God morrow Horrace. O, God saue you gallants. Asinius Bubo well met. Nay I hope so Crispinus, yet I was sicke a quarter of a yeare a got of a vehement great tooth-atch: a pox ot, it bit me viye, as God same la knew twas you by your knocking so soone as I saw you; Demetrius Fannius, wil you take a whiffe this morning? I haue tickling geare now, heer's that will play with your nose, and a pype of mine owne scowring too. I, and a Hodgshead too of your owne, but that will neuer be scowred cleane I feare. I burnt my pype yesternight, and twas neuer vsde since, if you will tis at your seruice gallants, and Tobacco too, tis right pudding I can tell you; a Lady or two, tooke a pype full or two at my hands, and praizde it for the Heauens, shall I fill Flannius?