Jonson, Ben · published 1616 · first performed or written 1606 [1605-1606] (Annals) comedy · King's Men unassigned nearest T41 Household service: masters, doors and po · 501 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T41: master, house, door, iohn, old, mistress, basket, lord, gentleman, ick.
Pray you say again, If those require him whole, these will exact him, Whereof I bring him tidings. What might be His grave affair of state, now? how, to make Bolognian sausages, here, in Venice, sparing One o'th' ingredients. Sir, he says, he knows By your word, tidings, that you are no statesman, And therefore, will you stay. Sweet, 'pray you return him, I have not read so many proclamations, And studied them, for words, as he has done, But— Here he deigns to come. Sir, I must crave Your courteous pardon. There hath chanced (today) Unkind disaster, twixt my lady, and me: And I was penning my apology To give her satisfaction, as you came, now. Sir, I am grieved, I bring you worse disaster; The gentleman, you met at th' port, today, That told you, he was newly arrived— ay, was A fugitive punk? No, sir, a spy, set on you: And, he has made relation to the Senate, That you professed to him, to have a plot, To sell the state of Venice, to the Turk. O me! For which, warrants are signed by this time, To apprehend you, and to search your study, For papers— Alas, sir. I have none, but notes, Drawn out of playbooks— All the better, sir. And some essays. What shall I do? Sir, best Convey yourself into a sugar-chest, Or, if you could lie round, a frail were rare: And I could send you, aboard. Sir, I but talked so, For discourse' sake, merely. Hark, they are there. I am a wretch, a wretch. What, will you do, sir? ha' you ne'er a curren-but to leap into? They'll put you to the rack, you must be sudden. Sir, I have an engine— Sir Politique WOULD-BE? Where is he?) That I have thought upon, before time. What is it? (I shall ne'er endure the torture.) marry, it is, sir, of a tortoise-shell, Fitted, for these extremities: 'pray you sir, help me. Here, I have a place, sir, to put back my legs, (Please you to lay it on, sir) with this cap, And my black gloves, I'll lie, sir, like a tortoise, Till they are gone. And, call you this an engine? Mine own device— good sir, bid my wives women To burn my papers. Where's he hid? We must, And will, sure, find him. Which is his study? What Are you, sir? I'm a merchant, that came here To look upon this tortoise. How? St. Mark! What beast is this? It is a fish. Come out, here. Nay, you may strike him, sir, and tread upon him: he'll bear a cart. What, to run over him? Yes. Let's jump, upon him. Can he not go? He creeps, sir. Let's see him creep. No, good sir, you will hurt him. (Heart) I'll see him creep; or prick his guts. Come out, here. Pray you sir, (creep a little) forth. Yet further. Good sir, (creep) We'll see his legs. God's so, he has garters!
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)
'Pray you say againe, If those require him whole, these will exact him▪ VVhereof I bring him tidings. VVhat might be His graue affaire of state, now? how, to make Bolognian sauseges, here, in Venice, sparing One o'th'ingredients. Sir, he sai's, he knowes By your word, tidings, that you are no states-man, And therefore, wills you stay. Sweet, 'pray you returne him, I haue not read so many proclamations, And studied them, for words, as he has done, But— Here he deignes to come. Sir, I must craue Your courteous pardon. There hath chanc'd (to day) Vnkinde disaster, 'twixt my lady, and mee: And I was penning my apologie To giue her satifaction, as you came, now. Sir, I am grieu'd, I bring you worse disaster; The gentleman, you met at th' port, to day, That told you, he was newly arriu'd— I, was A fugitiue punke? No, sir, a spie, set on you: And, he has made relation to the Senate, That you profest to him, to haue a plot, To sell the state of Venice, to the Turke. O me! For which, warrants are sign'd by this time▪ To apprehend you, and to search your study, For papers— Alasse, sir. I haue none, but notes, Drawne out of play-bookes— All the better, sir. And some essayes. What shall I doe? Sir, best Conuay your selfe into a sugar-chest, Or, if you could lie round, a fraile were rare: And I could send you, aboard. Sir, I but talk'd so, For discourse sake, merely. Harke, they are there. I am a wretch, a wretch. What, will you doe, sir? Ha you ne're a curren-but to leape into? They'll put you to the racke, you must be sudden. Sir, I haue an ingine— Sir POLITIQVE WOVLD-BE? Where is he?) That I haue thought vpon, before time. What is it? (I shall ne're indure the torture.) Mary, it is, sir, of a tortoyse-shell, Fitted, for these extremities: 'pray you sir, helpe me. Here, I' haue a place, sir, to put backe my leggs, (Please you to lay it on, sir) with this cap, And my blacke gloues, I'le lye, sir, like a tortoyse, Till they are gone. And, call you this an ingine? Mine owne deuice— good sir, bid my wiues women To burne my papers. Where's he hid? We must, And will, sure, find him. Which is his study? What Are you, sir? I'am a merchant, that came heere To looke vpon this tortoyse. How? St. MARKE! What beast is this? It is a fish. Come out, here. Nay, you may strike him, sir, and tread vpon him: Hee'll beare a cart. What, to runne ouer him? Yes. Let's iump, vpon him. Can he not go? He creeps, sir. Let's see him creepe. No, good sir, you will hurt him. (Heart) I'le see him creepe; or pricke his guts. Come out, here. 'Pray you sir, (creepe a little) Foorth. Yet furder. Good sir, (creep) We'll see his legs. Gods so, he has garters!