Wilkins, George · published 1607 · first performed or written 1606 [1605-1606] (Annals) tragedy · King's Men unassigned nearest T44 Drinking: wine, ale and taverns · 475 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T44: drink, wine, numps, ale, butler, pot, sing, moy, drunk, win.
But Francke, Frank, now we are come to the house, what shall we make to be our business? Tut, let us be Impudent enough, and good enough. We have no acquaintance here, but young Scarborrow. How no acquaintance: Angels guard me from thy company. I tell thee Wentloe thou art not worthy to wear guilt Spurs, clean Linen, nor good Clothes. Why for God's sake? By this hand thou art not a man fit to Table at an Ordinary, keep Knights company to Bawdy houses, nor Beggar thy tailor. Why then I am free from Cheaters, clear from the Pox, and escape Curses? Why dost thou think there is any Christians in the world? I and Iewes too, Brokers, Puritans, and sergeants. Or dost thou mean to beg after Charity, that goes in a cold suit already, that thou talkest thou hast no acquaintance here. I tell thee Wentloe thou canst not live on this side of the world: feed well, drink Tobacco, and be honoured into the presence, but thou must be acquainted with all sorts of men, I and so far in to, till they desire to be more acquainted with thee. True, and than you shall be accounted a gallant of good credit. But stay, here is a Scrape-trencher arrived: How now blue bottle, are you of the house? I have heard of many black jacks Sir, but never of a blue Bottle. Well Sir, are you of the house? No Sir, I am twenty yards without, and the house stands without me. Prithee tells who owes this building. He that dwells in it Sir. Who dwells in it then. He that owes it. What's his name. I was none of his Godfather. Dus master Scarberow lie here, I'll give you a rhyme for that Sir, Sick men may lie, and dead men in their Graves, Few else do lie a-bed at noon, but Drunkards, Punks, & knaves. What am I the better for thy answer? What am I the better for thy question? Why nothing. Why then of nothing comes nothing. sblood this is a philosophical fool. Then I that am a fool by Art, am better than you that are fools by nature. Gentlemen, welcome to Yorkshire. And well encountered my little Villain of fifteen hundred a year, Stut what makest thou here in this barren soil of the North, when thy honest friends miss thee at London? Faith Gallants 'tis the Country where my Father lived, where first I saw the light, and where I am loved, Loved, I as courtier's love Usurers, & that is just as long as they lend them money. Now dare I lay. None of your Land good Knight, for that is laid to mortgage already? I dare lay with any man that will take me up. Who list to have a Lubberly load.
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)
BVt Francke, Franke, now we are come to the house, what shall we make to be our busines? Tut, let vs be Impudent enough, and good inough. We haue no acquaintaince heere, but young Scarborrow. How no aquaintance: Angels guard me from thy company. I tel thee Wentloe thou art not worthy to weare guilte Spurs, cleane Linnen, nor good Cloaths. Why for Gods sake? By this hand thou art not a man fit to Table at an Ordinary, keepe Knights company to Bawdy houses, nor Begger thy Taylor. Why then I am free from Cheaters, cleare from the Pox, and escape Cursses? Why doost thou think there is any Christians in the world? I and Iewes too, Brokers, Puritans, and Sergiants. Or doost thou meane to begge after Charity, that goes in a cold sute already, that thou talkest thou hast no acquaintance here. I tel thee Wentloe thou canst not liue on this side of the world: feed wel, drink Tobacco, and be honored into the presence, but thou must be acquainted with all sortes of men, I and so farre in to, till they desire to be more acquainted with thee. True, and then you shall be accompted a gallant of good credit. But stay, here is a Scrape-trencher ariued: How now blew bottle, are you of the house? I haue heard of many blacke Iacks Sir, but neuer of a blew Bottle. Well Sir, are you of the house? No Sir, I am twenty yardes without, and the house stands without me. Prethee tels who owes this building. He that dwels in it Sir. Who dwels in it then. He that owes it. Whats his name. I was none of his God-father. Dus maister Scarberow lie heere, Ile giue you a rime for that Sir, Sicke men may lie, and dead men in their Graues, Few else do lie abed at noone, but Drunkards, Punks, & knaues. What am I the better for thy answer? What am I the better for thy question? Why nothing. Why then of nothing comes nothing. Sblud this is a philosophicall foole. Then I that am a foole by Art, am better then you that are fooles by nature. Gentlemen, welcome to Yorkshire. And well incountred my little Villaine of fifteene hundred a yeare, Sut what makest thou heere in this barren soyle of the North, when thy honest friends misse thee at London? Faith Gallants tis the Countrey where my Father liued, where first I saw the light, and where I am loved, Lou'd, I as Courtiers loue Vsurers, & that is iust as long as they lend them mony. Now dare I lay. None of your Land good Knight, for that is laid to morgage already? I dare lay with any man that will take me vp. Who list to haue a Lubberly load.