The Dutch Courtesan (Cockle de Moye) · chunk 9 of 35
Marston, John · published 1605 · first performed or written 1605 [1603-1605] (Annals) comedy · Children of the Queen's Revels · Blackfriars T47 Knaves, thieves and bawds typicality 0.72 · 534 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T47: knave, rogue, money, knaves, thief, rogues, pray, whore, nichol, book.
Hang toasts, you are an Ass, much a your worship's brain lies in your Calves, bread a God boy, I was at supper last night with a new weaned bulchin, bread a God drunk, horribly drunk, horribly drunk, there was a wench one Frank Frailty, a punk, an honest polecat, of a clean In step, found leg, smooth thigh, and the nimble Devil in her buttock, all fy a grace, when saw you Tysefew, or M. Caqueteur, that prattling gallant of a good draft common customs, fortunate, impudence and sound fare. A way Rogue. Hang toasts, my fine boy, my companion as worshipful. Yes I hear you are taken up with scholars and churchmen. Qùanquam to Marce fili my fine boy, does your worship want a Barber Surgeon. Farewell knave, beware the Mulligrubs. Let the Malligrubs beware the knave, what a barber Surgeon, my delicate boy? Yes sir an apprentice to surgery. Ti, s my fine boy, to what bawdy house doth your Master belong, what's thy name? Holofernes Rainscure. Rainscure? good M. Holofernes I desire your further acquaintance, nay pray ye be covered my fine boy, kill thy itch and heal thy scabs, is thy Master rotten? My father forsooth is dead. And laid in his grave, alas what comfort shall Peggy then have. None but me sir, that's my mother's son I assure you. Mother's son, a good witty boy, would live to read an Homily well, and to whom are you going now? Marry forsooth to trim M. Mulligrub the Vintner. Do you know M. Mulligrub? My Godfather Sir. Good boy hold up thy chops, I pray thee do one thing for me, my name is Gudgeon. good M. Gudgeon. Lend me thy basin, razor, and Apron. O Lord sir. Well spoken, good english, but what's thy furniture worth? O Lord sir I know not. Well spoken, a boy of a good wit, hold this pawn, where dost dwell. At the sign of the three r sir, A sign of good shaving my carastrophonical fine boy, I have an odd jest to trim M. Mulligrub for a wager, a jest boy, a humour, I'll return thy things presently, hold. What mean you good M. Gudgeon? Nothing faith but a jest boy, drink that, I'll recoil presently. You'll not stay long. As I am an honest man, the 3. razers? ay sir. Good, and if I shave not M. Mulligrub, my wit has no edge, and I may go cack in my pewter, let me see, a barber, my scurule tongue will discover me, must dissemble, must disguise, for my beard, my false hair, for my tongue Spanish Dutch, or Welsh, no, a Northern barber, very good, widow Raine-soure's man well, newly entertained, right, to, hang toasts, all cards have white backs, and all knaves would seem to have white breaster, so proceed, now worshipful Cocledemoy. Nay good sweet daughter, do not swagger so, you hear your love is to be married, true, he does cast you off, right he will leave you to the world, what then? though blue and white, black and green leave you, may not red and yellow entertain you, is there but one colour in the Rainbow?
nodes 281–314 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 9 of 35 in this edition
Length
534 words · 774 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T47 — Knaves, thieves and bawdscross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.722 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
seed 43: T46 · seed 44: T41 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Hang toaſtes, you are an Aſſe, much a your worſhips brayne lyes in your Calues, bread a God boy, I was at ſupper laſt night with a new weande bulchin, bread a God drunke, horribly drunke, horribly drunke, there was a wench one Franke Frailty, a puncke, an honeſt pole-cat, of a cleane In ſtep, found legge, ſmooth thigh, and the nimble Diuell in her buttocke, al fieſt a grace, when ſaw you Tyſefew, or M. Caqueure, that pratling gallant of a good draught common cuſtomes, fortunate, impudence and ſound fare. A way Rogue. Hang toaſtes, my fine boy, my companion as worſhipfull. Yes I heare you are taken vp with ſchollers and churchmen. Qùanquam to Marce fi my fine boy, does your worſhip want a Barb Surgeon. Farewell knaue, beware the Mullgrubs. Let the Malligrubs beware the knaue, what a Barbar Surgeon▪ my delicate boy? Yes ſir an apprentiſe to ſurgery. Ti,s my fine boy, to what bawdy doth your Maiſter belong, whats thy name? Holifernes Rain-ſcure. Rainſcure? good M. Holifernes I deſire your further acquaintance, nay pray yee bee couered my fine boy, kill thy itch and heale thy skabes, is thy Maiſter rotten? My father forſooth is dead. And laid in his graue, alas what comfort ſhall Peggy then haue. None but me ſir, thats my mothers ſonne I aſſure you. Mothers ſonne, a good witty boy, would liue to read an Homilie well, and to whome are you going now? Marry forſooth to trim M. Mulligrub he Vintner. Doe you know M. Mulligrub? My Godfather Sir. Good boy hold vp thy chops, I pray thee doe one thing for me, my name is Gudgeon. good M. Gudgeon. Lend me thy baſon, razer, and Apron. O Lord ſir. Wel ſpokē, good engliſh, but whats thy furniture worth? O Lord ſir I know not. Well ſpoken, a boy of a good wit, holde this pawne, where doſt dwell. At the ſigne of the three razers ſir, A ſigne of good ſhauing my caraſtrophonicall fine boy, I haue an odde ieſt to trim M. Mulligrub for a wager, a ieſt boy, a humor, Ile returne thy thinges preſently, hold. What meane you good M. Gudgeon? Nothing faith but a ieſt boy, drinke that, Ile recoile preſently. You'le not ſtay long. As I am an honeſt man, the 3. razers? I ſir. Good, and if I ſhaue not M. Mulligrub, my wit has no edge, and I may goe cacke in my pewter, let me ſee, a Barbar, my ſcurule tongue will diſcouer me, muſt diſſemble, muſt diſguiſe, for my beard, my falſe hayre, for my tongue Spaniſh Dutch, or Welſh, no, a Northerne Barbar, very good, widdow Raine-ſures man well, newly entertainde, right, to, hang toſtes, acardes haue white backes, and all knaues would ſeeme to haue white breaſter, ſo proceede, now worſhipfull Cocledemoy. Nay good ſweete daughter, doe not ſwagger ſo, you heare your loue is to bee married, true, he does caſt you off, right he will leaue you to the world, what then? tho blew and white, black and greene leaue you, may not redde and yellow entertain you, is there but one coullor in the Raine-bow?