The Miseries of Enforced Marriage · chunk 27 of 47
Wilkins, George · published 1607 · first performed or written 1606 [1605-1606] (Annals) tragedy · King's Men unassigned nearest T47 Knaves, thieves and bawds · 502 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T47: knave, rogue, money, knaves, thief, rogues, pray, whore, nichol, book.
Squat heart squat, creep me into these Bushes, lie me as close to the ground as you would do to a wench. How good Butler, show us how. By the Moon patroness of all purse-takers, who would be troubled with such Changelings, squat heart squat. Thus Butler. I so suckling, so, stir not now, If the peering Rogues chance to go over you, yet stir not younger Brothers call you 'em and have no more forecast, I am ashamed of you, these are such whose fathers had need leave them money, even to make them ready withal, for by this hilts, they have not wit to button their sleeves without teaching, close, squat close. Now if the lot of hanging do fall to my share, so, than the Father's old man drops for his young masters. If it chance it chances and when it chances, heaven and the Sheriff send me a good rope, I would not go up the lather twice for any thing, in the mean time preventions, honest preventions do well, off with my skin, so you on the ground, and I to this tree to escape the Gallows. Do follow, if I do not deceive you, I'll bid a pox of this wit, and hang with a good grace. Up to this wood they took, search near my friends, I am this morn robbed of three hundred pound. I am sorry there was not four to have made even money now by the devils horns, 'tis Sir Iohn Harcop. Leave not a bush unbare, nor tree unsearched, as sure as I was robbed the thieves went this way. Theirs Nobody I perceive but may lie at sometime for one of them climbed this ways. Stand, I hear a voice, and here's an Owl in an ivy bush. You lie, 'tis an old Servingman in a Nut-tree. Sirrah, sir, what make you in that tree. Gathering of Nuts, that such fools as you are may crack the shells, and I eat the kernels. What fellows that? Sir Iohn Harcop, my Noble Knight, I am glad of your good health, you hear your Age fair, you keep a good house, I ha' fed at your board, and been drunk in your buttery. But sirrah: what made you in that tree? My man and I at foot of yonder hill Were by three knaves robbed of three hundred pound. A shrewd loss by’r lady sir, but your good worship may now see the fruit of being miserable: You will ride but with one man to save horse-meat and man's meat at your Inn at night, & lose three hundred pound in a morning. Sirrah, I say I ha' lost three hundred pound. And I say sir, I wish all miserable knights might be served so: For had you kept half a dozen tall fellows, as a man of your coat should do, they would have helped now to keep your money. But tell me sir, why lurked you in that tree?
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)
Squat hart squat, creepe mee into these Bushes, lye me as close to the ground as you would do to a wench. How good Butler, show vhow. By the Moone patronesse of all purse-takers, who woulde be troubled with such Changelings, squat hart squat. Thus Butler. I so suckling, so, sturre not nowe, If the peering Rogues chance to goe ouer you, yet sturre not younger Brothers call you em and haue no more forecast, I am ashamd of you, these are such whose fathers had neede leaue them money, euen to make them ready withall, for by this hiltes, they haue not wit to butten theyr sleeues without teaching, close, squat close. Now if the lot of hauging do fall to my share, so, then the Fathers old man drops for his young maisters. If it chance it chances and when it chaunces, heauen and the Sheriffe send me a good rope, I wold not go vp the lather twice for any thing, in the meane time preuentious, honest preuentions do well, off with my skin, so you on the ground, and I to this tree to escape the Gallows. Do follow, if I do not deceiue you, Ile bid a poxe of this wit, and hang with a good grace. Vp to this wood they tooke, search neare my friendes, I am this morne robd of three hundred pound. I am sorry there was not foure to ha made euen money now by the Deuils hornes, tis Sir Iohn Harcop. Leaue not a bush vnbeare, nor tree vnsearcht, as sure as I was robd the theeues went this way. Theirs Nobody I perceiue but may lie at sometime for one of them climbd this wayes. Stand, I heare a voice, and heres an Owle in an Iuy bush. You lie, tis an old Seruingman in a Nut-tree. Sirrah, sir, what make you in that tree. Gathring of Nuts, that such fools as you are may cracke the shels, and I eat the kernels. What fellowes that? Sir Iohn Harcop, my Noble Knight, I am gladde of your good health, you heare your Age faier, you keep a good house, I ha fed at your boord, and bin drunke in your buttery. But sirha: what made you in that tree? My man and I at foot of yonder hill Were by three kanues robd of three hundred pound. A shrewd losse berlady sir, but your good worship may now see the fruit of being miserable: You will ride but with one man to saue hors-meat and mans meat at your Inne at night, & lose three hundred pound in a morning. Sirha, I say I ha lost three hundred pound. And I say sir, I wish all miserable knights might bee serued so: For had you kept halfe a dozen tall fellowes, as a man of your coat should do, they woulde haue helpt now to keep your money. But tell me sir, why lurkt you in that tree?