Middleton, Thomas · published 1607 · first performed or written 1606 [1604-1606] (Annals) comedy · Children of Paul's (second) T44 Drinking: wine, ale and taverns typicality 0.71 · 493 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T44: drink, wine, numps, ale, butler, pot, sing, moy, drunk, win.
'twas honestly considered of 'em i'faith. How now? what piece of stuff comes here? Now some good news yet to recover my Repute, and grace me in this company; Gentlemen, are we friends among ourselves? united. Then here comes Revish to confirm our Amity— Wag-tail, salute them all they are friends. Then saving my quarrel to you all. Toe's all Now be shrew your hearts, and you do not. To sweet Master Lethe. Let it flow this way dear Master Blastfield, Gentlemen to you all. This Rhenish wine is like the scouring-stick to a gun, it makes the Barrel clear: it has an excellent virtue, it keeps all the Sinks in man and woman's body sweet in Iune and Iuly, and to say truth, if Ditches were not cast once a year, and Drabs once a Month, there would be no abiding i'th' City. Gentlemen, i'll make you privy to a letter I sent. A letter comes well after privy, it makes amends. There's one Quomodo, a draper's Daughter in town whom for her happy portion I wealthily affect. And not for love? this makes for me his Rival, bear witness. The Father does elect me for the man, The Daughter says the same. Are you not well? Yes all but for the mother, she's my sickness. by’r lady and the Mother is a pestilent, wilful, troublesome sickness I can tell you, if she light upon you handsomely. I find it so: she for a stranger pleads: Whose name I ha' not learned. And e'en now he called me by it. Now as my letter told her, since only her consent kept aloof of, what might I think on't, but that she merely doted upon me herself. Very assuredly. This makes still for you. Did you let it go so i'faith? You may believe it sir, now what says her answer? ay, her answer. She says you're a base proud knave, and like your worship. How? Nay, hear out her answer, or there's no goodness in you. You ha' forgot she says in what pickle your worship came up, and brought two of your friends to give their words for a suit of green kersey. Drudge, peace, or— Show yourself a Gentleman, she had the patience to read your letter which was as bad as this can be, what will she think on't, not hear her answer? speak, good his drudge. And as for her Daughter, she hopes she'll be ruled by her in time, and not be carried away with a cast of Manchets, a bottle of Wine, and a Custard, which once made her Daughter sick, because you came by it with a bad conscience. Gentlemen, i'm all in a sweat. That's very wholesome for your body, nay you must keep in your arms. Then she demanded of me whether I was your worship's aunt or no? Out, out, out, Gru. Alas said I, I am a poor drudge of his.
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)
Twas honeſtly conſidered of e'm yfaith. How now? what peece of ſtuffe comes heere? Now ſome good newes yet to recouer my Repute, and grace me in this company; Gentlemen, are we friendes among our ſelues? Vinited. Then heere comes Reuiſh to confirme our Amitie— Wag▪ taile, ſalute hem all they are friendes. Then ſauing my quarrell to you all. Toe's all Now be ſhrowe your hearts, and you doe not. To ſweete Maiſter Lethe. Let it flow this way deere Maiſter Blaſtfield, Gentlemen to you all. This Reiſh wine is like the ſcowring-ſticke to a gun, it makes the Barrell cleere: it ha's an excelent vertue, it keepes all the Sinckes in man and womans bodie ſweete in Iune and Iuly, and to ſay truth, if Ditches were not caſt once a yeare, and Drabs once a Month, there would be no abiding i'th Cittie. Gentlemen, ile make you priuie to a letter I ſent. A letter comes well after priuie, it makes amends. There's one Quomodo▪ a Drapers Daughter in towne whome for her happie portion I wealthily affect. And not for loue? this makes for me his Riuall, beare witneſſe. The Father does elect me for the man, The Daughter ſayes the ſame. Are you not well? Yes all but for the mother, ſhee's my ſickneſſe. Birlady and the Mother is a peſtilent, wilfull, troubleſome ſickneſſe I can tell you, if ſhe light vpon you handſomlye. I finde it ſo: ſhe for a ſtranger pleades: Whoſe name I ha not learn'd. And ene now he cald me by it. Now as my letter tolde her, ſince onely her conſent kept aloofe of, what might I thinke on't, but that ſhe meerely dooted vpon me herſelfe. Very aſſuredly. This makes ſtill for you. Did you let it goe ſo yfaith? You may beleeue it ſir, now what ſayes her anſwere? I, her anſwere. She ſaies you'r a baſe proud knaue, and like your worſhip. How? Nay, heare out hir anſwere, or there's no goodneſſe in you. You ha forgot ſhe ſaies in what pickle your worſhip came vp, and brought two of your friendes to giue their wordes for a ſute of greene Kerſye. Drudge, peace, or— Show your ſelfe a Gentleman, ſhe had the patience to reade your letter which was as bad as this can be, what will ſhe thinke on't, not heare her anſwere? ſpeake, good his drudge. And as for hir Daughter, ſhee hopes ſheele be rulde by her in time, and not be carryed away with a caſt of Manchets, a bottle of Wine, and a Cuſtard, which once made her Daughter ſicke, becauſe you came by it with a bad conſcience. Gentlemen, i'me all in a ſweate. That's verie wholſome for your body, nay you muſt keepe in your armes. Then ſhe demaunded of me whether I was your worſhips Ant or no? Out, out, out, Gru. Alaſſe ſaide I, I am a poore drudge of his.