Marston, John · published 1607 · first performed or written 1607 (Annals) comedy · Children of Paul's (second) (?) unassigned nearest T35 Fools, wit and railing · 496 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T35: fool, wit, aristippus, achilles, wise, fools, patroclus, thersites, master, men.
My sword boy s, s, s, s, soul my sword. O my dear rogue thou art a rare dissembler. See see. Francisco did I not help to clothe thee even now I would has worn thee Albano my good sweet slave. See, see, Iesu, Iesu, impostors, coney-catchers, Sancta Maria? Look you, he walks he feigns most excellent. Accost him first as if you were ignorant Of the deceit. O dear Albano now thrice happy eyes To view the hopeless presence of my brother. Most loved kinsman praise to Heaven yet, You know Albano, but for yonder slaves— well. Success could not come on more gracious. Had not you come (dear brother Adrian) I think not one would know me. Ulysses dog Had quicker sense than my dull Countrymen, Why none had known me. Doubt you of that? would I might die, Had I not known the guile I would ha' sworn Thou hadst been Albano, my nimble cozening knave. Whip, whip, Heaven preserve all Saint Mark Saint Mark. Brother Adrian, be frantic prithee be Say I am a Perfumer Francisco, hay hay Is't not some feast day you are all rank drunk rats ra, ra, ra, rats knights of the be, be, be, bell, be, be, bell. Go go proceed thou dost it rare farewell. Farewell? ha? is't even so? boy who am I? My Lord Albano, By this breast you lie The Samian faith is true, true, I was drowned And now my soul is skipped into a perfumer a gutter-master. Believe me sir— No no I'll believe nothing, no, The disadvantage of all honest hearts Is quick credulity, perfect state policy Can crossbite even sense, the worlds turned juggler, Casts mists before our eyes Haygh passe re passe I'll credit nothing. Good Sir. Hence ass. Doth not Opinion stamp the currant pass, Of each man's value, virtue, quality? Had I engrossed the choice commodities Of heavens traffic, yet reputed vile I am a rascal; O dear unbelief, How wealthy dost thou make thy owner's wit? Thou train of knowledge, what a privilege Thou giv'st to thy possessor: anchor'st him, From floating with the tide of vulgar faith: From being damned with multitudes dear unbelief, I am a Perfumer, ay, thinkst thou my blood, My brothers know not right Albano yet? Away 'tis faites, if Albanos name, Were liable to sense, that I could taste or touch Or see, or feel it, it might 'tice belief, But since 'tis voice, and air, come to the Muscat boy, Francisco, that's my name 'tis right, ay, ay, What do you lack? what is't you lack right that's my cry. Proclaim our titles Bosphoros Cormelydon Honorificacuminos Bydet. I think your Majesties a Welshman, you have a horrible long name. Death or silence proceed. Honorificacuminos Bidet Emperor of Cracks, Prince of Pages, Marks of Mumchance, and sole regent over a bale of false dice, to all his under minister's health, Crowns, Sack, Tobacco, and stockings uncracked above the shoe.
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)
My sword boy s, s, s, s, soule my sword. O my deere roague thou art a rare dissembler. See see. Francisco did I not helpe to cloth thee euen now I would has worne thee Albano my good sweete slaue. See, see, Iesu, Iesu, impostors, connicatchers, Sancta Maria? Looke you, he walkes he faines most excellent. Accost him first as if you were ignorant Of the deceit. O deere Albano now thrice happie eyes To view the hope-lesse presence of my brother. Most loued kinsman praise to Heauen yet, You know Albano, but for yonder slaues—well. Successe could not come on more gratious. Had not you come (deare brother Adrian) I thinke not one would know me. Vlisses dog Had quicker scence then my dul Countrimen, Why none had knowne me. Doubt you of that? would I might die, Had I not knowne the guile I would ha sworne Thou hadst bin Albano, my nimble couzning knaue. Whippe, whippe, Heauen preserue al Saint Marke Saint Marke. Brother Adrian, be frantick pree-thee be Say I am a Perfumer Francisco, hay hay Ist not some feast day you are all ranke drunke Rratts ra, ra, ra, rattes knights of the be, be, be, bell, be, be, bell. Go go proceede thou dost it rare farewell. Farwell? ha? ist euen so? boy who am I? My Lord Albano, By this breast you lie The Samian faith is true, true, I was drown'd And now my soule is skipt into a perfumer a gutter-master. Beleeue me sir — No no Ile beleeue nothing, no, The disaduantage of all honest hearts Is quick credulity, perfect state pollecy Can crosse-bite euen sence, the worlds turn'd Iuggler, Castes mystes before our eyes Haygh passe re passe Ile credit nothing. Good Sir. Hence asse. Doth not Opinion stamp the currant passe, Of each mans valew, vertue, quality? Had I ingross'd the choice commodities Of heauens trafike, yet reputed vile I am a rascall; O deere vnbeleefe, How wealthy dost thou make thy owners wit? Thou traine of knowledge, what a priuiledge Thou giu'st to thy possessor: anchorst him, From floting with the tide of vulger faith: From being dam'd with multitudes deere vnbeleefe, I am a Perfumer, I, thinkst thou my bloud, My brothers know not right Albano yet? Away tis faites, if Albanos name, Were liable to scence, that I could tast or touch Or see, or feele it, it might tice beleefe, But since tis voice, and ayre, come to the Muscat boy, Francisco, thats my name tis right, I, I, What do you lack? what ist you lack right that's my cry. Proclaime our titles Bosphoros Cormelydon Honorificacuminos Bydet. I thinke your Maiesties a Welchman, you haue a horrible long name. Death or scilence proceed. Honorificacuminos Bidet Emperor of Crackes, Prince of Pages, Marques of Mumchance, and sole regent ouer a bale of false dice, to all his vnder Ministers health, Crownes, Sack, Tobacco, and stockings vncrakt aboue the shooe.