Satiromastix, or The Untrussing of the Humorous Poet · chunk 18 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) T8 Captains, gallants and cheats typicality 0.81 · 491 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T8: captain, master, money, gentleman, little, lieutenant, rogue, pray, minos, honest.
Master Horace, your inventions do her no good in the Universalities; yet here is two shillings for your wits; nay by Sesu you shall take it if't were more: yonder bald Adam's, is put my nose from his joint; but Adam I will be even to you: this is my cogitations, I will indite the Ladies & Miniver caps to a dinner of Plumbs, and I shall desire you M. Horace, to speak or rail; you can rail I hope in God a mighty. You mean to speak bitterly: Right, to spit bitterly upon baldness, or the thinness of hair; you sall eat down Plumbs to sweeten your mouth, and here is a good Ansell to defend you: Peter Salamander follow me. With hue and cry and you will Sir. Come M, Horace, I will go pull out the Ladies. And I'll set out my wits, Baldness the Theme? My words shall flow high in a silver stream. where's my most costly and sumptuous Shorthose? Is the King risen from table Captain Tucca? How? risen? no my noble Quintilian, kings are greater men than we Knights and Cavaliers, and therefore must eat more than lesser persons; Godamercy good dives for these crumbs: how now? has not Friar Tucke dined yet? he falls so hard to that oyster-pie yonder. oyster-pie Captain? ha ha, he loves her, and I love her and fear both shall go without her. Dost love her, my finest and first part of the Mirror of Knighthood? hang her she looks like a bottle of ale, when the cork flies out and the Ale foams at mouth, she looks my good button-breech like the sign of Capricorn, or like Tyburn when it is covered with snow. All's one for that, she has a vizard in a bag, will make her look like an Angel; I would I had her, upon condition, I gave thee this chain manly Tucca. I? sayst thou so Friskin? I have her ath hip for some causes, I can sound her, she'll come at my beck. Would I could sound her too Noble commander. Thou shalt do't; that Lady ath Lake is thine Sir Tristram, lend me thy chain, do, lend it, I'll make her take it as a token, I'll link her unto thee; and thou shalt wear her glove in thy Worshipful hat like to a leather brooch; Nay and thou mistrusts thy collar, be tied in't still. MIstrust Captain no here 'tis, give it her if she'll take it, or wear it thyself, if she'll take me, I'll watch him well enough too. No more, I'll shoot away yonder Prickshaft, and then belabour her, and fly you after yonder cuckoo: dost hear me my noble Goldfinch:— No more. How dost thou my smug Bel-imperia? how dost thou? hands off my little bald Derrick, hands off: hark hither Susanna, beware a these two wicked Elders, shall I speak well or ill of thee?
Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men and Children of Paul's (second)
Genre (British Drama)
comedy
Play type
Boys Professional;Adult Professional;Professional
Edition / TCP / DEEP
edition 444 · TCP A20081 · DEEP 344
Edition role
Representative edition — used in the analysis
Position
nodes 554–572 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 18 of 44 in this edition
Length
491 words · 685 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T8 — Captains, gallants and cheatscross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.806 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
seed 43: T11 · seed 44: T14 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Master Horace, your inuentions doe her no good in the Vniuersalities; yet heere is two shillings for your wittes; nay by Sesu you shall take it if't were more: yonder bald Adams, is put my nose from his ioynt; but Adam I will be euen to you: this is my cogitations, I will indite the Ladies & Miniuer caps to a dinner of Plumbes, and I shall desire you M. Horace, to speake or raile; you can raile I hope in God a mighty. You meane to speake bitterlie: Right, to spitte bitterly vpon baldnes, or the thinnes of haire; you all eate downe Plumbes to sweeten your mouth, and heere is a good Ansell to defend you: Peter Salamander follow me. With hue and crie and you will Sir. Come M, Horace, I will goe pull out the Ladies. And Ile set out my wits, Baldnes the Theame? My words shall flow hye in a siluer streame. Wher's my most costly and sumpuous Shohose ▪ Is the King risen from table Captaine Tucca? How? risen? no my noble Quintilian, kings are greater men then we Knights and Cauallies, and therefore must eate more then lesser persons; Godamercy good Diues for these crummes: how now? has not Frier Tucke din'd yet? he falles so hard to that Oyster-pye yonder. Oyster-pye Captaine? ha ha, he loues her, and I loue her and feare both shall goe without her. Dost loue her, my finest and first part of the Mirrour of Knighthood? hange her she lookes like a bottle of ale, when the corke flyes out and the Ale fomes at mouth, shee lookes my good button-breech like the signe of Capricorne, or like Tiborne when it is couer'd with snow. All's one for that, she has a vizard in a bagge, will make her looke like an Angell; I wod I had her, vpon condition, I gaue thee this chaine manlie Tucca. I? saist thou so Friskin? I haue herath hip for some causes, I can sound her, shell come at my becke. Wod I could sound her too Noble commaunder. Thou shalt doo't; that Lady ath Lake is thine Sir Tristram, lend mee thy chaine, doe, lend it, Ile make her take it as a token, Ile lincke her vnto thee; and thou shalt weare her gloue in thy Worshipfull hate like to a leather brooh; Nay and thou mistrusts thy coller, be tyed in't ill. Mirust Captaine no heere tis, giue it her if she'll take it, or weare it thy slfe, if shee'll take mee, Ile watch him well enough too. No more, Il shoote away yonder Prickshaft, and then belabour her, ad flye you after yonder Cucko: dost heere me my noble Goldnh:— No more. How do thou my smug Belimperia? how dost thou? hands off my little bald Derricke, hands off: harke hether Susanna, beware a these two wicked Elders, shall I speake well or ll of thee?