Dekker, Thomas / Webster, John · published 1607 · first performed or written 1605 (Annals) comedy · Children of Paul's (second) unassigned nearest T8 Captains, gallants and cheats · 497 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T8: captain, master, money, gentleman, little, lieutenant, rogue, pray, minos, honest.
Cockatrice: you mistress Salamanders that fear no burning, let my mare and my mare's horse, and my coach come running home again and run to an hospital, and your Surgeons, and to knaves and panders and to the tiuell and his tame to. Fiend art thou razed to torment me. she loves you Captain honestly. I'll have any man, oman or child by his ears, that says a common drab can love a Sentillman honestly, I will sell my Coach for a cart to have you to punk's hall, Pridewell, I sarge you in Apollo's name, whom you belong to, see her forthcoming, till I come and tiggle her, by and by, 'sblood I was never cozened with a more rascal piece of mutton, since I came out a the Lawer Countries. My doors are open for thee, be gone: woman! This goats— pizzle of thine— Away: I love no such implements in my house. Dost not? am I but an implement? by all the maidenheads that are lost in London in a year (& that's a great oath) for this trick, other manner of women than myself shall come to this house only to laugh at thee; and if thou wouldst labour thy heart out, thou shalt not do withal. Is this my Poetical fury? how now sir! Master Maybery and his wife sir i'th' next room. What are they doing sir? Nothing sir, that I see, but only would speak with you. Enter 'em: this house willbe to hot for me, if this wench cast me into these sweats, I must shift myself, for pure necessity, haunted with sprites in my old days! A Comedy, a Canterbury tale smells not half so sweet as the Comedy I have for thee old Poet: thou shalt write upon't Poet. Nay I will write upon't if't be a Comedy, for I have been at a most villainous female Tragedy: come, the plot, the plot. Let your man give you the boots presently, the plot lies in Ware my white Poet: Wife thou and I this night, will have mad sport in Ware, mark me well Wife, in Ware. At your pleasure sir. Nay it shallbe at your pleasure Wife: look you sir, look you: Fetherstone's boy (like an honest crack-halter) laid open all to one of my prentices, (for boys you know like women love to be doing.) Very good: to the plot. Fetherstone like a crafty muttonmonger, persuades Greenshield to be run through the body. Strange! through the body? I man, to take physic: he does so, he's put to his purgation; then sir what does me Fetherstone, but counterfeits a letter from an Innkeeper of Doncaster, to fetch Greenshield (who is needy you know) to a keeper's lodge in Enfield-Chase, a certain Uncle, where Greenshield should receive money due to him in behalf of his wife. His wife! is Greenshield married? I have heard him swear he was a bachelor. So have I a hundred times.
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)
Cockatrice: you mistris Salamanders that feare no burning, let my mare and my mares horse, and my coach come running home agen and run to an hospitall, and your Surgeons, and to knaues and panders and to the tiuell and his tame to. Fiend art thou raized to torment me. Shee loues you Captaine honestly. Ile haue any man, oman or cilde by his eares, that saies a common drab can loue a Sentillman honestly, I will sell my Coach for a cart to haue you to puncks hall, Pridewell, I sarge you in Apollos name, whom you belong to, see her forth-comming, till I come and tiggle her, by and by, Sbloud I was neuer Couzend with a more rascall peece of mutton, since I came out a the Lawer Countries. My dores are open for thee, be gon: woman! This goates—peezle of thine — Away: I loue no such implements in my house. Doest not? am I but an implement? by all the maidenheads that are lost in London in a yeare (& thats a great oth) for this trick, other manner of women than my selfe shall come to this house only to laugh at thee; and if thou wouldst labour thy heart out, thou shalt not do withal. Is this my Poeticall fury? how now sir! Maister Maybery and his wife sir ith next roome. What are they doing sir? Nothing sir, that I see, but onely wud speake with you. Enter 'em: this house wilbe to hot for mee, if this wench cast me into these sweates, I must shift my selfe, for pure necessity, haunted with sprites in my old daies! A Commedy, a Canterbury tale smells not halfe so sweete as the Commedy I haue for thee old Poet: thou shalt write vpon't Poet. Nay I will write vpon't ift bee a Commedie, for I haue beene at a most villanous female Tragedie: come, the plot, the plot. Let your man giue you the bootes presently, the plot lies in Ware my white Poet: Wife thou and I this night, will haue mad sport in Ware, marke me well Wife, in Ware. At your pleasure sir. Nay it shalbe at your pleasure Wife: looke you sir, looke you: Fetherstones boy (like an honest crack-halter) layd open all to one of my prentices, (for boies you know like women loue to be doing.) Very good: to the plot. Fetherstone like a crafty mutton-monger, perswades Greenshield to be run through the body. Strange! through the body? I man, to take phisick▪ he does so, hee's put to his purgation; then sir what does me Fetherstone, but counterfits a letter from an Inkeeper of Doncaster, to fetch Greenshield (who is needy you know) to a keepers lodge in Enfeild-chace▪ a certaine Vncle, where Greenshield should receiue mony due to him in behalfe of his wife. His wife! is Greensheild married? I haue heard him sweare he was a batchiler. So haue I a hundred times.