Dekker, Thomas · published 1607 · first performed or written 1606 [c.1606-1607] (Annals) history; allegory · Prince Henry's Men T3 Sickness, physic and doctors typicality 0.84 · 516 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T3: doctor, master, cure, disease, pray, physic, physician, mr, sick, lady.
I marry I commend yond gentleman. Pray Sir come near, look you he's well provided For all rough wethers: Sir, you way be proud, That you can give arms better than these Lords, I thank you yet, that if a storm should fall, We could make you our shelter. A good sword? This would go through stitch; had I heart to kill I'd wish no better weapon; but our days Of quarrelling are passed; Shall we put up Sir, We ha' put up wrongs ere now, but this is right, Nay we are not falling yet, It did us good To see how your Majestic presence dawnted The silly gentleman. The silly gentleman! He knew not how to stand, nor what to speak, The silly gentleman? know you him Lords? Where is he? Gotten hence poor wretch with shame. That wretch hath sworn to kill me with that How? (sword, The traitor. Lock the Court gates. Guard her person. You guard it well. Alack! when lovers woo, An extreme joy and fear, them so appall, That over much love, shows no love at all. Zeal sometimes-over-does her part-It's right— When the frais done, Cowards cry where's the Flight. pensioners. Florimell The wolves in his own snare: O damned slave! I had like to ha' made his heart my poniards grave. How got you to this knowledge?— blessed heaven! It came unto me strangely: from a window, Mine eyes took mark of him; that he would shoot 'twas told me, and I tried if he durst do't. Is Ropus here, our Doctor? Gracious Lady. You have a lucky hand since you were ours, It quickens our taste well; fill us of that You last did minister: a draft, no more, And give it fire, even Doctor how thou wilt. I made a new extraction, you shall never Relish the like. Why, shall that be my last? Oh my dear Mistress! Go, go, I dare swore thou lov'st my very heart. This scaly Serpent Is thrown (as he deserves) upon the Sword Of justice; and to make these tidings twins, I bring this happy news, Campeius, (A Snake that in my bosom once I warmed:) The man for whom—. Oh, we remember him. This Owl, that did not love your sacred light, Stole o'er the Seas by darkness, and was held In Babylon a bird of noble flight: They turned him to a Goshawk, feathered him Armed him with talents, & then gave him bells, And hither charged him fly, he did: and soared O'er all your goodliest woods, and thickest groves, Enticing birds that had the skill in song, To learn harsh notes: and those that failed in voice, He taught to peck the tender blossoms off, To spoil the leafy trees, and with sharp bills To mangle all the Golden ears of corn. But now he's ta'en. Good shepherds ought not care, How many foxes fall into the Snare. Your ciuill Doctor, Doctor Par Casts Anchor on your shores again, being freighted With a good venture, which he says, yourself Must only have the sight of.
nodes 1816–1887 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 30 of 43 in this edition
Length
516 words · 702 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T3 — Sickness, physic and doctorscross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.841 (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 marry I commend yon gentleman. Pray Sir come neere, looke you hee's well prouided For all rough wethers: Sir, you way be proud, That you can giue armes better than these Lords, I thanke you yet, that if a storme should fall, We could make you our shelter. A good sword? This would goe through stich; had I heart to kill I'de wish no better weapon; but our dayes Of quarreling are past; Shall we put vp Sir, We ha put vp wrongs ere now, but this is right, Nay we are not falling yet, It did vs good To see how your Maiestick presence dawnted The silly gentleman. The sillie gentleman! He knew not how to stand, nor what to speak, The silly gentleman? know you him Lords? Where is hee? Gotten hence poore wretch with shame. That wretch hath sworne to kill me with that How? (sword, The traytor. Locke the Court gates. Guard her person. You guard it well. Alacke! when louers wooe, An extreame ioy and feare, them so apall, That ouer much loue, shewes no loue at all. Zeale sometimes-ouer-does her part-It's right— When the frais done, Cowards crie whers the Flight. Pentions. Florimell The wolfes in his own snare: O damned slaue! I had like to ha made his heart my ponyards graue. How got you to this knowledge?—blessed heauen! It came vnto me strangely: from a window, Mine eyes tooke marke of him; that he would shoot Twa's told me, and I tried if he durst doo't. Is Ropus here, our Doctor? Gratious Lady. You haue a lucky hand since you were ours, It quickens our tast well; fill vs of that You last did minister: a draught, no more, And giue it fire, euen Doctor how thou wilt. I made a new extraction, you shall neuer Rellish the like. Why, shall that be my last? Oh my deere Mistres! Go, go, I dare sware thou lou'st my very heart. This scaly Serpent Is throwne (as he deserues) vpon the Sword Of Iustice; and to make these tydings twinnes, I bring this happy newes, Campeius, (A Snake that in my bosome once I warm'd:) The man for whome—. Oh, wee remember him. This Owle, that did not loue your sacred light, Stole or'e the Seas by darknes, and was held In Babilon a bird of noble flight: They tourn'd him to a Goshawke, fether'd him Arm'd him with tallents, & then gaue him bels, And hither charg'd him fly, he did: and soar'd O're all your goodlyest woods, and thickest groues, Inticing birdes that had the skill in song, To learne harsh notes: and those that fail'd in voice, He taught to pecke the tender blossomes off, To spoyle the leauy trees, and with sharpe bils To mangle all the Golden eares of corne. But now hee's tan'e. Good sheapheards ought not care, How many foxes fall into the Snare. Your ciuill Doctor, Doctor Par Casts Anchor on your shores againe, being freighted With a good venture, which he saies, your selfe Must onely haue the sight of.