Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T41: master, house, door, iohn, old, mistress, basket, lord, gentleman, ick.
Thou dost belong to master Civet here, dost thou not? Yes me do. Why there's it, there's not a handful of plate But belongs to me, God's my judge: If I had but such a wench as thou art, There's never a man in England would make more Of her, than I would do, so she had any stock. O why tannakin. Stay one doth call, I shall come by and by again. By this hand, this Dutch wench is in love with me, Were it not admiral to make her steal All Civets Plate, and run away. 'twere beastly. O master Flowerdale, Have you no fear of God, nor conscience: What do you mean, by this wild course you take? What do I mean, why to live, that I mean. To live in this sort, fie upon the course, Your life doth show, you are a very coward. A coward, I pray in what? Why you will borrow sixpence of a boy. Snails is there such cowardice in that, I dare Borrow it of a man, I and of the tallest man In England, if he will lend it me, Let me borrow it how I can, and let them come by it how they dare. And it is well known, I rid out a hundred times If I would: so I might. It was not want of will, but cowardice, There is none that lends to you, but know they gain: And what is that but only stealth in you, Delia might hang you now, did not her heart Take pity of you for her sister's sake. Go get you hence, lest lingering here you stay, You fall into their hands you look not for. I'll tarry here, till the Dutch Froe Comes, if all the devils in hell were here. Where is the door, are we not passed it Artichoke? Bith masse heres one, ile aske him, doe you heare fir? What are you so proud? do you hear, which is the way To master Civets house? what will you not speak? O me, this is filching Flowerdale. O wonderful, is this lewd villain here? O you cheating Rogue, you cutpurse coney-catcher, What ditch you villain, is my daughter's grave? A cozening rascal, that must make a will, Take on him that strict habit, very that: When he should turn to angel, a dying grace, I'll father in law you sir, i'll make a will, Speak villain, where's my daughter? Poisoned I warrant you, or knocked a the head: And to abuse good master Weathercock, with his forged will, And master Weathercock, to make my grounded resolution, Then to abuse the Devonshire gentlemen: Go, away with him to prison. Wherefore to prison? sir I will not go. O here's his Uncle, welcome gentlemen, welcome all, Such a cozener gentlemen, a murderer too For any thing I know, my daughter is missing: Hath been looked for, cannot be found, a vild upon thee.
seed 43: T27 · seed 44: T21 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Thou doest belong to maier Ciuet here, doest thou not? Yes me doe. Why theres it, theres not a handfull of plate But belongs to me, Gods my Iudge: If I had but such a wench as thou art, Theres neuer a man in England would make more Of her, then I would doe▪ so she had any stocke. O why Tanikin. Stay one doth call, I shall come by and by againe. By this hand, this Dutch wench is in loue with me, Were it not admirall to make her steale All Ciuets Plate, and runne away. Twere beastly. O maister Flowerdale, Haue you no feare of God, nor conscience: What doe you meane, by this vilde course you take? What doe I meane, why to liue, that I meane. To liue in this sort, fie vpon the course, Your life doth show, you are a verie coward. A coward, I pray in what? Why you will borrow sixpence of a boy. Snailes is there such cowardice in that, I dare Borrow it of a man, I and of the tallest man▪ In England, if he will lend it me, Let me borrowe it how I can, and let them come by it how they dare. And it is well , rid out a hundred times If I would: so I might. It was not want of will, but cowardice, There is none that lends to you, but know they gaine: And what is that but onely stealth in you, Deia might hang you now, did not her heart Take pittie of you for her sisters sake. Goe get you hence, least lingering here you stay, You fall into their hands you looke not for. Ile tarie here, till the Dutch Froe Comes, if all the diuels in hell were here. Where is the doore, are we not past it Artichoake? Bith masse heres one, ile aske him, doe you heare fir? What are you so proud? doe you heare, which is the way To maister Ciuets house? what will you not speake? O me, this is filching Flwoerdale. O wonderfull, is this leaude villaine here? O you cheating Roague, you cut-purse conicatcher, VVhat ditch you villaine, is my daughters graue? A cozening rascall, that must make a will, Take on him that strict habit, very that: VVhen he should turne to angell, a dying grace, Ile father in lawe you syr, ile make a will, Speake villaine, wheres my daughter? Poysoned I warrant you, or knocked a the head: And to abuse good maister Weathercocke, with his fordged will, And maister Weathercocke, to make my grounded resolution, Then to abuse the Deuenshyre gentlemen: Goe, away with him to prison. VVherefore to prison? syr I will not goe. O heeres his Vnckle, welcome gentlemen, welcome all, Such a cozoner gentlemen, a murderer too For any thing I know, my daughter is missing: Hath bin looked for, cannot be found, a vild vpon thee.