Middleton, Thomas · published 1607 · first performed or written 1606 [1604-1606] (Annals) comedy · Children of Paul's (second) unassigned nearest T41 Household service: masters, doors and po · 486 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T41: master, house, door, iohn, old, mistress, basket, lord, gentleman, ick.
Never let it come near thy believe that he'll take prison, or stand out in law, knowing the debt to be due, but still expect the presence of Master Blastfield, kind M. Blastfield, worshipful M Blastfield— and at the last— Master Shortyard, master Falslight. The Boy: a warning-piece,— see where he comes. Is not in Paul's. He is not far off sure sir. When was his hour sayst thou? Two sir. Why two has struck. No sir, they are now a striking. Master Richard Easy of Essex we arrest you. Ha? Alas a Surgeon, he's hurt i'th' shoulder. Deliver your weapons quietly sir. Why what's the matter? You're arrested at the suit of M. Quomodo. Master Quomodo? How strange you make it, you're a landed Gentleman sir, I knew 'tis but a trifle, a bond of seven hundred pound. La, I know you had mistook, you should arrest One Master Blastfield, 'tis his bond, his debt. Is not your name there? True, for fashion's sake. Why and 'tis for fashion's sake that we arrest you. Nay, & it be no more, I yield to that: I know Master Blastfield will see me take no injury as long as i'm in town, for Master Alsup's sake. whose's that Sir? An honest Gentleman in Essex. Oh, In Essex! I thought you had been in London, where now your business lies, honesty from Essex will be a great while a coming sir, you should look out an honest pair of Citizens. Alas sir, I know not where to find 'em. No, there's enough in Town. I know not one by my troth, I am a mere stranger for these parts, Master Quomodo is all, and the honestest that I know. To him then let's set forward:— Yeoman Spiderman, cast an eye about for Master Blastfield. Boy— Alas the poor boy was frighted away at first. Can you blame him sir— we that daily fray away knights, may fright away Boys I hope. Ha? have they him sayst thou? As sure as— The land's mine, that's sure enough boy. Let me advance thee knave, and give thee a kiss, My plot's so firm I dare it now to miss. Now shall I be divulged a landed man, Throughout the livery:— one points, another whispers, A third frets inwardly: let him fret and hang, Especially his envy I shall have, That would be feign, yet cannot be a knave, Like an old leather girt in furred Gown, Whose mind stands stiff but his performance down. Now come my golden days in:— whither is the worshipful master Quomodo, and his fair Bedfellow rid forth, To his land in Essex? whence comes those goodly load of Logs? from his land in Essex? where grows this pleasant fruit, says one citizen's wife in the row; at master Quomodo's Orchard in Essex; oh, oh, does it so, I thank you for that good news i'faith.
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)
Neuer let come neere thy beleee that heele take priſon, or ſtand out in lawe, knowing the debt to be due, but ſtill expect the preſence of Maiſter Blaſtfield, kinde M. Blaſtfield, worſhipfull M Blaſtfield—and at the laſt— Maiſter Shortyard, maiſter Falſlight. The Boy: a warning-piece,—ſee where he comes. Is not in paules. He is not farre off ſure ſir. When was his hovre ſayſt thou? Two ſir. Why two ha's ſtrucke. No ſir, they are now a ſtriking. Maiſter Richard Eaſie of Eſſex we arreſt you. Ha? Alaſſe a Surgeon, hee's hurt ith ſhoulder. Deliuer your weapons quietly ſir. Why what's the matter? Y'are arreſted at the ſuite of M. Quomodo. Maiſter Quomodo? How ſtrange you make it, you'r a landed Gentleman ſir, I knew tis but a triſſe, a bond of ſeauen hundred pound. La, I knowe you had miſtooke, you ſhould arreſt One Maiſter Blaſtfield, tis his bond, his debt. Is not your name there? True, for faſhions ſake. Why and tis for faſhions ſake that we arreſt you. Nay, & it be no more, I yeelde to that: I know Maiſter Blaſtfield wil ſee me take no iniurie as long as i'me in towne, for Maiſter Alſups ſake. Whoſe that Sir? An honeſt Gentleman in Eſſex. Oh, In Eſſex! I thought you had beene in London, where now your buſines lyes, honeſtye from Eſſex will be a great while a comming ſir, you ſhould looke out an honeſt paire of Cittizens. Alaſſe ſir, I knowe not where to finde e'm. No, there's enow in Towne. I know not one by my troth, I am a meere ſtranger for theſe partes, Maiſter Quomodo is all, and the honeſteſt that I knowe. To him then lets ſet forward:—Yeoman Spiderman, caſtan eye about for Maiſter Blaſtfield. Boy—Alaſſe the poore boy was frighted away at firſt. Can you blame him ſir—we that dayly fray away Knight's, may fright away Boyes I hope. Ha? haue they him ſayſt thou? As ſure as— The land's mine, thats ſure enough boy. Let me aduaunce thee knaue, and giue thee a kiſſe, My plt's ſo firme I dare it now to miſſe. Now ſhall I be diuulgde a landed man, Throughout the liuerie:—one points, another whiſpers, A third frets inwardly: let him fret and hang, Eſpecially his enuie I ſhall haue, That would be faine, yet cannot be a knaue, Like an olde leather girt in furde Gowne, Whoſe minde ſtands ſtiffe but his performance downe. Now come my golden daies in:—whither is the worſhipfull maſter Quomodo, and his faire Bedfellow rid forth, To his land in Eſſex? whence comes thoſe goodly loade of Logs? from his land in Eſſex? where growes this pleaſant fruit, ſayes one Citizens wife in the rowe; at maiſter Quomodos Orchard in Eſſex; oh, oh, do's it ſo, I thanke you for that good newes yfaith.