Dekker, Thomas / Chettle, Henry / Haughton, William · published 1603 · first performed or written 1600 [Oct 16-Dec 29, payment] (Annals) comedy · Admiral's (Nottingham's) Men unassigned nearest T37 Riches, poverty and covetousness · 463 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T37: wealth, riches, money, god, rich, poverty, men, learning, poor, ic.
Let not thy tongue go so: sit down to work And that our labour may not seem to long, we'll cunningly beguile it with a song. Do master for that's honest cousinage. Song Art thou poor yet hast thou golden Slumbers: Oh sweet content! Art thou rich yet is thy mind perplexed? Oh punishment. Dost thou laugh to see how fools are vexed? To ad to golden numbers, golden numbers. O sweet content, of sweet etc. Foot Work apace, apace, apace, apace: Honest labour bears a lovely face, Then heigh nonny, nonny: heigh nonny, nonny. Canst drink the waters of the Crisped spring, O sweet content! Swim'st thou in wealth, yet sink'st in thine own tears, O punishment. Then he that patiently wants, burden bears, No burden bears, but is a King, a King, O sweet content, etc. Foot. Work apace, apace, etc. Weep master, yonder comes your Son Laureo my Son? oh heaven let thy rich hand Pour plenteous showers of blessing on his head. Treble the number fall upon your age, Sister? Dear brother Laureo welcome home. Master Laureo) (aniculaes son) welcome home, how do the nine muses, Pride, covetousness, envy, sloth, wrath, gluttony and lechery? you that are Scholars read how they do. Muses: these (fool) are the seven deadly sins. Are they: Mass methinks it's better serving than, than your nine muses, for they are stark beggars. Often I have wished to see you here, It grieves me that you see me here so soon. Why Laureo dost thou grieve to see thy father, Or dost thou scorn me for my poverty. He needs not, for he looks like poor Iohn himself, eight to a neck of mutton, is not that your commons, & a Cue of bread? Father I grieve my young years to your age, Should add more sorrow. Why son what's the matter? That which to think on makes me desperate. I that have charged my friends, and from my father Pulled more than he could spare, I that have lived, These nine years at the University, Must now for this world's devil: this angel of gold, Have all those days and nights to beggary sold, Through want of money, what I want I miss, Who is more scorned than a poor: scholar is? Yes three things: Age, wisdom, & basket makers Brothers what means these words? Oh, I am mad. To think how much a Scholar undergoes, And in th'end reaps nought but penury. Father I am enforced to leave my book, Because the study of my book doth leave me, In the lean arms of lank necessity. Having no shelter (ah me) but to fly Into the sanctuary of your aged arms. A trade, a trade, follow basket-making, leave books and turn block head.
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)
Let not thy tongue goe so: sit downe to worke And that our labour may not seeme to long, Weele cunningly beguile it with a song. Doe master for thats honest cousonage. Song Art thou poore yet hast thou golden Slumbers: Oh sweet content! Art thou rich yet is thy minde perplexed? Oh punnishment. Dost thou laugh to see how fooles are vexed? To ad to golden numbers, golden numbers. O sweet content, of sweet &c. Foote Worke apace, apace, apace, apace▪ Honest labour beares a louely face, Then hey noney, noney: hey noney, noney. Canst drinke the waters of the Crisped spring, O sweet content! Swim'st thou in wealth, yet sinck'st in thine owne teares, O punnishment. Then hee that patiently wants, burden beares, No burden beares, but is a King, a King, O sweet content, &c. Foot. Worke apace, apace, &c. Weep master, yonder comes your Sonne Laureo my Sonne? oh heauen let thy rich hand Poure plentious shewers of blessing on his head. Treble the number fall vppon your age, Sister? Deare brother Laureo welcome home. Master Laureo) (aniculaes sonne) welcome home, how doe the nine muses, Pride, couetousnes, enuie, sloth, wrath, gluttonie and letcherie? you that are Schollers read how they doe. Muses: these (foole) are the seauen deadly sins. Are they: Mas me thinkes its better seruing thē, then your nine muses, for they are starke beggers. Often I haue wisht to sée you heere, It grieues me that you see me heere so soone. Why Laureo dost thou grieue to see thy father, Or dost thou scorne me for my pouertie. He needes not, for he lookes like poore Iohn himselfe, eight to a necke of Mutten, is not that your commons, & a Cue of breade? Father I grieue my young yeares to your age, Should adde more sorrowe. Why sonne whats the matter? That which to thinke on makes me desperate. I that haue chargd my friends, and from my father Puld more then he could spare, I that haue liud, These nine yeares at the Uniuersity, Must now for this worlds deuill: this angell of golde, Haue all those daies and nights to beggerie solde, Through want of money, what I want I misse, Who is more scorn'd then a poore: scholler is? Yes three things: Age, wisdome, & basket makers Brothers whatmeanes these words? Oh, I am mad. To thinke how much a Scholler vndergoes, And in th'ende reapes naught but pennurie. Father I am inforced to leaue my booke, Because the studie of my booke doth leaue me, In the leane armes of lancke necessitie. Hauing no shelter (ah me) but to flie Into the sanctuarie of your aged armes. A trade, a trade, follow basket-makeing, leaue bookes and turne block head.