Jonson, Ben · published 1616 · first performed or written 1603 (Annals) tragedy · King's Men T3 Sickness, physic and doctors typicality 0.79 · 530 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T3: doctor, master, cure, disease, pray, physic, physician, mr, sick, lady.
I do not know The heart of his designs; but, sure, their face Looks farther than the present. By the gods, If I could guess he had but such a thought, My sword should cleave him down from head to heart, But I would find it out: and with my hand I'd hurl his panting brain about the air, In mites, as small as atomi, t'o undo The knotted bed— You are observed, Arruntius. Death! I dare tell him so; and all his spies: You, sir, I would, do you look? and you. Forbear. Here, he will instant be; Let's walk a turn. You're in a muse, EUDEMUS? Not I, sir. I wonder he should mark me out so! well, JOVE, and APOLLO form it for the best. Your fortune's made unto you now, EUDEMUS, If you can but lay hold upon the means; Do but observe his humour, and— believe it— He's the noblest Roman, where he takes— Here comes his lordship. Now, good SATRIUS. This is the gentleman, my lord. Is this? give me your hand, we must be more acquainted. Report, sir, hath spoke out your art, and learning: And I am glad I have so needful cause, (however in itself painful, and hard) To make me known to so great virtue. Look, Who's that? SATRIUS— I have a grief, sir, That will desire your help. Your name's EUDEMUS? Yes. Sir? It is, my lord. I hear, you are Physician to LIVIA, the princess? I minister unto her, my good lord. You minister to a royal lady, then. She is, my lord, and fair. That's understood Of all their sex, who are, or would be so; And those, that would be, physic soon can make 'em: For those that are, their beauties fear no colours. Your lordship is conceited. Sir, you know it. And can (if need be) read a learned lecture, On this, and other secrets. Pray you tell me, What more of ladies, besides LIVIA, have you your patients? Many, my good lord. The great AUGUSTA, Urgulana. MUTILIA PRISCA, and PLANCINA, divers— And, all these tell you the particulars Of every several grief? how first it grew, And then increased, what action caused that; What passion that: and answer to each point That you will put 'em. Else, my lord, we know not How to prescribe the remedies. Go to, You're a subtle nation, you Physicians! And grown the only cabinets, in court, To ladies' privacies. Faith which of these Is the most pleasant lady, in her physic? Come, you are modest now. 'Tis fit, my lord. Why, sir, I do not ask you of their urines, Whose smell's most violet? or whose siege is best? Or who makes hardest faces on her stool? Which lady sleeps with her own face, a-nights? Which puts her teeth off, with her clothes, in court? Or, which her hair? which her complexion? And, in which box she puts it? These were questions That might, perhaps, have put your gravity To some defence of blush. But, I inquired, Which was the wittiest? merriest? wantonest? Harmless intergatories, but conceits. methinks, AUGUSTA should be most perverse, And froward in her fit?
nodes 284–364 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 5 of 52 in this edition
Length
530 words · 767 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T3 — Sickness, physic and doctorscross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.787 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
seed 43: T3 · seed 44: T4 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
I doe not know The heart of his designes; but, sure, their face Lookes farther then the present. By the gods, If I could gesse he had but such a thought, My sword should cleaue him downe from head to heart, But I would finde it out: and with my hand I'ld hurle his panting braine about the ayre, In mites, as small as atomi, to'vndoe The knotted bed — You are obseru'd, ARRVNTIVS. Death! I dare tell him so; and all his spies: You, sir, I would, doe you looke? and you. Forbeare. HEere, he will instant be; Let's walke a turne. Yo'are in a muse, EVDEMVS? Not I, sir. I wonder he should marke me out so! well, IOVE, and APOLLO forme it for the best. Your fortune's made vnto you now, EVDEMVS, If you can but lay hold vpon the meanes; Doe but obserue his humour, and — beleeue it — He's the noblest Romane, where he takes — Here comes his lordship. Now, good SATRIVS. This is the gentleman, my lord. Is this? Giue me your hand, we must be more acquainted. Report, sir, hath spoke out your art, and learning: And I am glad I haue so needfull cause, (How euer in it selfe painefull, and hard) To make me knowne to so great vertue. Looke, Who's that? SATRIVS — I haue a griefe, sir, That will desire your helpe. Your name's EVDEMVS? Yes. Sir? It is, my lord. I heare, you are Physitian to LIVIA, the princesse? I minister vnto her, my good lord. You minister to a royall lady, then. She is, my lord, and fayre. That's vnderstood Of all their sexe, who are, or would be so; And those, that would be, physicke soone can make 'hem▪ For those that are, their beauties feare no collours. Your lordship is conceited. Sir, you know it. And can (if need be) read a learned lecture, On this, and other secrets. Pray you tell me, What more of ladies, besides LIVIA, Haue you your patients? Many, my good lord. The great AVGVSTA, VRGVLANIA. MVTILIA PRISCA, and PLANCINA, diuers — And, all these tell you the particulars Of euery seuerall griefe? how first it grew, And then encreas'd, what action caused that; What passion that: and answere to each point That you will put 'hem. Else, my lord, we know not How to prescribe the remedies. Goe to, Yo'are a subtill nation, you Physitians! And growne the onely cabinets, in court, To ladies priuacies. Faith which of these Is the most pleasant lady, in her physicke? Come, you are modest now. 'Tis fit, my lord. Why, sir, I doe not aske you of their vrines, Whose smel's most violet? or whose seige is best? Or who makes hardest faces on her stoole? Which lady sleepes with her owne face, a nights? Which puts her teeth off, with her clothes, in court? Or, which her hayre? which her complexion? And, in which boxe she puts it? These were questions That might, perhaps, haue put your grauity To some defence of blush. But, I enquir'd, Which was the wittiest? meriest? wantonnest? Harmelesse intergatories, but conceipts. Me thinks, AVGVSTA should be most peruerse, And froward in her fit?