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 · 508 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T41: master, house, door, iohn, old, mistress, basket, lord, gentleman, ick.
You will not be a' known, sir: why 'tis wise. Thus do all gamesters, at all games, dissemble. No man will seem to win. Here, comes my vulture, Heaving his beak up i' the air, and snuffing. Outstripped thus, by a parasite? a slave? Would run on errands? and make legs, for crumbs? Well, what I'll do— The court stays for you worship. I e'en rejoice, sir, at your worship's happiness, And that it fell into so learned hands, That understand the fingering.— What do you mean? I mean to be a suitor to your worship, For the small tenement, out of reparations; That, at the end of your long row of houses, By the piscaria: it was, in VOLPONE'S time, Your predecessor, ere he grew diseased, A handsome, pretty, customed, bawdy-house, As any was in Venice (none dispraised) But fell with him; his body, and that house Decayed, together. Come, sir, leave your prating. Why, if your worship give me but your hand, That I may ha' the refusal; I have done. 'Tis a mere toy, to you, sir; candle rends: As your learned worship knows— What do I know? marry no end of your wealth, sir, god decrease it. Mistaking knave! what, mockest thou my misfortune? His blessing on your heart, sir, would 'twere more. (Now, to my first, again; at the next corner.) SEe, in our habit! see the impudent varlet! That I could shoot mine eyes at him, like gun-stones. But, is this true, sir, of the parasite? Again, t'afflict us? monster? In good faith, sir, I'm heartily grieved, a beard of your grave length Should be so overreached. I never brooked That parasites hair, methought his nose should cozen: There still was somewhat, in his look, did promise The bane of a Clarissimo. Knave— methinks, Yet you, that are so traded i' the world, A witty merchant, the fine bird, CORVINO, That have such moral emblems on your name, Should not have sung you shame; and dropped your cheese: To let the fox laugh at your emptiness. Sirrah, you think, the privilege of the place, And your red saucy cap, that seems (to me) Nailed to your jolt-head, with those two cecchines, Can warrant your abuses; come you, hither: You shall perceive, sir, I dare beat you. Approach. No haste, sir, I do know your valour, well: Since you durst publish what you are, sir. Tarry, I'd speak, with you. Sir, sir, another time— Nay, now. O god, sir! I were a wise man, Would stand the fury of a distracted cuckold. What! come again? Upon 'em, MOSCA; save me, The air's infected, where he breathes. Let's fly him. Excellent Basilisk! turn upon the vulture. WEll, flesh-fly, it is summer with you, now; Your winter will come on. Good Advocate, Pray thee, not rail, nor threaten out of place, thus; Thou'lt make a solecism (as madame says.) Get you a biggin, more: your brain breaks loose. Well, sir. Would you ha' me beat the insolent slave? Throw dirt, upon his first good clothes?
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)
You will not be a' knowne, sir: why 'tis wise. Thus doe all gam'sters, at all games, dissemble. No man will seeme to winne. Here, comes my vulture, Heauing his beake vp i' the ayre, and snuffing. OVt-stript thus, by a parasite? a slaue? Would run on errands? and make legs, for crummes? Well, what I'le do— The court staies for you worship. I eêne reioyce, sir, at your worships happinesse, And that it fell into so learned hands, That vnderstand the fingering.— What doe you meane? I meane to be a sutor to your worship, For the small tenement, out of reparations; That, at the end of your long row of houses, By the piscaria: it was, in VOLPONE'S time, Your predecessor, ere he grew diseas'd, A handsome, pretty, custom'd, bawdy-house, As any was in Venice (none disprais'd) But fell with him; his body, and that house Decay'd, together. Come, sir, leaue your prating. Why, if your worship giue me but your hand, That I may ha' the refusall; I haue done. 'Tis a meere toy, to you, sir; candle rents: As your learn'd worship knowes— What doe I know? Mary no end of your wealth, sir, god decrease it. Mistaking knaue! what, mock'st thou my mis-fortune? His blessing on your heart, sir, would 'twere more. (Now, to my first, againe; at the next corner.) SEe, in our habite! see the impudent varlet! That I could shoote mine eies at him, like gun-stones. But, is this true, sir, of the parasite? Againe, t'afflict vs? monster? In good faith, sir, I'am hartily greeu'd, a beard of your graue length Should be so ouer-reach'd. I neuer brook'd That parasites haire, me thought his nose should cosen: There still was somewhat, in his looke, did promise The bane of a Clarissimo. Knaue— Me thinkes, Yet you, that are so traded i' the world, A witty merchant, the fine bird, CORVINO, That haue such morall emblemes on your name, Should not haue sung you shame; and dropt your cheese: To let the FOXE laugh at your emptinesse. Sirrah, you thinke, the priuiledge of the place, And your red saucy cap, that seemes (to me) Nayl'd to your iolt-head, with those two cecchines, Can warrant your abuses; come you, hither: You shall perceiue, sir, I dare beate you. Approch. No haste, sir, I doe know your valure, well: Since you durst publish what you are, sir. Tarry, I'ld speake, with you. Sir, sir, another time — Nay, now. O god, sir! I were a wise man, Would stand the fury of a distracted cuckold. What! come againe? Vpon 'hem, MOSCA; saue me, The ayre's infected, where he breathes. Lets flye him. Excellent Basiliske! turne vpon the vulture. VVEll, flesh-flie, it is sommer with you, now; Your winter will come on. Good Aduocate, 'Pray thee, not raile, nor threaten out of place, thus; Thou'lt make a soloecisme (as madame sayes.) Get you a biggen, more: your braine breakes loose. Well, sir. Would you ha' me beate the insolent slaue? Throw dirt, vpon his first good cloathes?