2 If You Know Not Me You Know Nobody (The Second Part of Queen Elizabeth's Troubles) · chunk 26 of 44
Heywood, Thomas · published 1606 · first performed or written 1605 [1604-1605; revised c.1632] (Annals) history · Queen Anne's Men unassigned nearest T6 Money, debt and credit · 508 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T6: money, master, pound, law, lawyer, chain, gentleman, gold, pay, pray.
jeweller, Let's see thy pearl: go pound it in a Mortar, Beat it to powder then return it me, What Dukes, and Lords, and these Ambassadors Have even before our face refused to purchase As of too high a price to venture on, Gresham a London Merchant here will buy. What is it broken small? fill us some wine, Fuller, yet fuller till the brim o'erflows, Here 16000. pound at one clap goes, In stead of Sugar, Gresham drinks this pearl Unto his Queen and Mistress: pledge it Lords, whoever saw a Merchant bravelier fraught, In dearer slippers or a richer draft? You are an honour to all English Merchants As bountiful as rich, as Charitable As rich as renowned as any of all. I do not this as prodigal of my wealth, Rather to show how I esteem that loss Which cannot be regained, A London Merchant Thus tread on a king's present: jeweller, My Factor shall deliver you your money. And Lords so please you but to see my School, Of the seven learned liberal Sciences, Which I have founded here near Bishopsgate, I will conduct you. I will make it Lords An University within itself, And giv't from my revenues maintenance. W''re not like those that are not liberal Till they be dying, what we mean to give, we will bestow, and see done whilst we live. Attendance, come, th'ambassador, guess all, Your welcome's great, albeit your cheer's but small Hard world, when men dig living out of stones, As wretched miserable I am enforced: And yet there lives more pity in the earth, Then in the flint-bosoms of her children, For she's content to have her aged breast Mangled with mattocks, rent and torn with spades, To give her children and their children bread, When man more flinty than her stony Ribs That was their mother, neither by entreats, Tears, nor complaints will yield them sustenance, But 'tis our age's fault the mightier, Tear living out of us, we out of her. Mother a me what a thick mist is here: I walked abroad to take the morning's air, And I am out of knowledge, bones a me What Meads, what Enclosures have we here? How now old Hobson, dote in thine old age? A fool a threescore, whether wilt thou wit? I crossed the water in my gown and slippers, To see my rents and buildings of the Bankside, And I am slipped clean out of ken, fore-god A woolgathering. Either mine ear's deceived, Or I should know that tongue: 'tis so indeed, Each word he speaks makes my torn heart to bleed. Ha, ha, I smile at my own foolery, Now I remember mine old Grandmother Would talk of Fairies and Hobgoblins, That would lead milkmaids over hedge and ditch, Make them milk their M. neighbours kine, And ten to one this Robin Godfellow, Hath led me up and down the mad man's maze. I hear some company, for shame all whist, Sit thee down Hobson a right man, in the mist.
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)
Ieweller, Let's see thy pearle: goe pound it in a Morter, Beate it to powder then returne it me, What Dukes, and Lordes, and these Ambassadours Haue euen before our face refusd to purchase As of too high a price to venture on, Gresham a London Marchant here will buy. VVhat is it broken small? fill vs some wine, Fuller, yet fuller till the brim or'e-flows, Here 16000. pound at one clap goes, In stead of Sugar, Gresham drinkes this pearle Vnto his Queene and Mistresse: pledge it Lords, Who euer saw a Marchant brauelier fraught, In dearer slippers or a richer draught? You are an honour to all English Merchants As bountifull as rich, as Charitable As rich as renowned as any of all. I doe not this as prodigall of my wealth, Rather to shew how I esteeme that losse Which cannot be regain'd, A London Marchant Thus tread on a kings present: Ieweller, My Factor shall deliuer you your money. And Lords so please you but to see my Schoole, Of the seuen learned liberall Sciences, Which I haue founded here neere Byshops-gate, I will conduct you. I will make it Lords An Vniuersitie within it selfe, And giu't from my reuenewes maintenance. W'are not like those that are not liberall Till they be dying, what wee meane to giue, Wee wil bestow, and see done whilst we liue. Attendance, come, th'ambassadour, guesse all, Your welcom's great, albeit your cheer's but small Hard world, when men dig liuing out of stones, As wretched miserable I am inforc't: And yet there liues more pittie in the earth, Then in the flint-bosomes of her children, For shee's content to haue her aged brest Mangled with matrocks, rent and torne with spades, To giue her children and their children bread, When man more flinty then her stonic Ribbes That was their mother, neither by intreates, Teares, nor complaints will yeeld them sustinance, But tis our ages fault the mightier, Teare liuing out of vs, we out of her. Mother a me what a thick myst is here: I walked abrod to take the mornings ayre, And I am out of knowledge, bones a me What Meads, what Inclosures haue we here? How now old Hobson, doat in thine old age? A foole a threescore, whether wilt thou wit? I crost the water in my gowne and slippers, To see my rents and buildings of the Bancke-side, And I am slipt cleane out of ken, fore-god A wooll-gathering. Either mine eare's deceiued, Or I should know that tongue: tis so indeed, Each word he speakes makes my torne heart to bleed. Ha, ha, I smile at my owne foolerie, Now I remember mine old Granmother Would talke of Fayries and Hobgoblins, That would lead milke-maides ouer hedge and ditch, Make them milke their M. neighbours kine, And ten to one this Robin Godfellow, Hath led mee vp and downe the mad mans maze. I heare some companie, for shame all whist, Sit thee downe Hobson a right man, in the mist.