The Miseries of Enforced Marriage · chunk 19 of 47
Wilkins, George · published 1607 · first performed or written 1606 [1605-1606] (Annals) tragedy · King's Men T44 Drinking: wine, ale and taverns typicality 0.82 · 501 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T44: drink, wine, numps, ale, butler, pot, sing, moy, drunk, win.
Here's the pure and neat grape Gent. I hate for you. Fill up: what ha' you brought here, goodman rogue? The pure element of Claret sir. ha' you so, and did not I call for Rhenish you Mungrell? Thou needst no wine, I prithee be more mild? Be mild in a Tavern, 'tis treason to the red Lettice, enemy to their sign post, and slave to humour: Prithee, let's be mad, Then fill our heads with wine, till every pate be drunk, Then piss i'the street, jostle all you meet, and with a Punk, As thou wilt do now and then: Thank me thy good Master, that brought thee to it. Nay, he profits well, but the worst is he will not swear yet Do not bely me: If there be any good in me that's the best: Oaths are necessary for nothing, They pass out of a man's mouth, like smoke through a chimney, that files all the way it goes. Why then I think Tobacco be a kind of swearing, for it furs our nose pockily. But come, let's drink ourselves into a stomach afore supper. Agreed. I'll begin with a new health. Fill up. To them that make Land fly, By wine, whores, and a Die. To them, that only thrives, By kissing others Wives. To them that pay for clothes, With nothing but with Oaths: Care not from whom they get, So they may be in debt: This health my hearts But who their Tailors pay, Borrow, and keep their day, we'll hold him like this Glass, A brainless empty Ass, And not a mate for us. Drink round my hearts. An excellent health. Master Ilford, there's a couple of strangers beneath desires to speak with you. What beards ha' they? Gentleman-like-beards, or broker-like-beards? I am not so well acquainted with the Art of Face mending sir: but they would speak with you. I'll go down to 'em. Do: and we'll stay here and drink Tobacco. Thus like a Fever that doth shake a man From strength to weakness, I consume myself: I know this company, their custom wild, Hated, abhorred of goodmen, yet like a child By reason's rule instructed how to know Evil from good, I to the worser go. Why do you suffer this, you upper powers, That I should surfeit in the sin I taste, have sense to feel my mischief, yet make waste Of heaven and earth: myself will answer, what myself doth ask? Who once doth cherish sin, begets his shame, For vice being fostered once, comes Impudence, Which makes men count sin, Custom, not offence, When all like me, their reputation blot, Pursuing evil, while the good 's forgot got. Nay, never strive, we can hold you. ay, me, and any man else, and a fall into your Clutches: Let go your tugging, as I am a Gentleman, I'll be your true prisoner. How now: what's the matter Frank? I am fallen into the hands of sergeants, I am arrested.
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: T21 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Heres the pure and neat grape Gent. I hate for you. Fill vp: what ha you brought here, goodman roge? The pure element of Claret sir. Ha you so, and did not I call for Rhenish you Mungrell? Thou needst no wine, I prethee be more mild? Be mild in a Tauerne, tis treason to the red Lettyce, enemy to their signe post, and slaue to humor: Preethee, lets be mad, Then fill our heads with wine, till euery pate be drunke, Then pisse i'the street, Iustell all you meet, and with a Punke, As thou wilt do now and then: Thanke me thy good Mayster, that brought thee to it. Nay, he profits well, but the worst is he will not swear yet Do not belie me: If there be any good in me thats the best: Oathes are necessary for nothing, They passe out of a mās mouth, like smoake through a chimney, that files all the waye it goes. Why then I think Tobacco be a kind of swearing, for it furs our nose pockily. But come, lets drinke our selues into a stomach asor supper. Agreed. Ile begin with a new health. Fill vp. To them that mnke Land fly, By wine, whores, and a Die. To them, that only thriues, By kissing others Wiues. To them that pay for cloathes, With nothing but with Oathes: Care not from whom they get, So they may be in debt: This health my harts But who their Taylors pay, Borrow, and keepe their day, Weel hold him like this Glasse, A brainlesse empty Asse, And not a mate for vs. Drinke round my harts. An excellent health. Mayster Ilford, theres a couple of strangers beneath desires to speake with you. What beards ha they? Gentleman-like-beards, or broker-like-beards? I am not so well acquainted with the Art of Facemending sir: but they would speake with you. Ile goe downe to em. Doe: and weele stay here and drinke Tobacco. Thus like a Feuer that doth shake a man From strength to weaknesse, I consume my selfe: I know this company, theyr custome vilde, Hated, abhord of good-men, yet like a childe By reasons rule instructed how to know Euill from good, I to the worser go. Why doe you suffer this, you vpper powers, That I should surfet in the sinne I tast, haue sence to feele my mischiefe, yet make wast Of heauen and earth: My selfe will answer, what my selfe doth aske? Who once doth cherish sinne, begets his shame, For vice being fosterd once, coms Impudence, Which makes men count sinne, Custom, not offence, When all like mee, their reputation blot, Pursuing euill, while the good got. Nay, neuer striue, we can hold you. I, me, and any man else, and a fall into your Clutches: Let go your tugging, as I am a Gentleman, Ile be your true prisoner. How now: whats the matter Franke? I am fallen into the hands of Sergiants, I am arested.