Middleton, Thomas · published 1608 · first performed or written 1605 (Annals) comedy · Children of Paul's (second) · before the Court unassigned nearest T44 Drinking: wine, ale and taverns · 504 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T44: drink, wine, numps, ale, butler, pot, sing, moy, drunk, win.
Master Wit-good? My life. Meet me presently, that note directs you, I would not be suspected our happiness attends us, farewell? A words enough. Let the Usurer cram him, in interest that excel, There's pits enough to damn him, before he comes to hell. In Holborn, some: in Fleet-street some, Ʋ Ʋhere ere he come, there's some there's some. Trahe, traheto, draw the Curtain, give me a sip of Sack more. Look you, did not I tell you he lay like the devil in chains, when he was bound for a thousand year. But I think the devil had no steel bedstaves, he goes beyond him for that. Nay do but mark the conceit of his drinking, one must wipe his mouth for him with a muckender, do you see sir. Is this the sick trampler, why he is only bedrid with drinking. True sir, he spies us. What? sir Tristram? you come and see a weak man here, a very weak man,— If you be weak in body, you should be strong in prayer sir. Oh, I have prayed too much poor man. There's a taste of his soul for you. Fah, loathsome? I come to borrow a hundred pound of you sir. Alas you come at an ill time, I cannot spare it i'faith, I ha' but two thousand i'th' house. Ha, ha, ha. Out you gernative quean, the mullipood of villainy, the Spinner of concupiscency. Ye gentlemen are you here before us? how is he now? Faith the same man still, the Tavern bitch has bit him i'th' head. we shall have the better sport with him, peace, and how cheers Master Dampit now? Oh, my bosom sir Lancelot, how cheer I? thy presence is restorative: But I hear a great complaint of you Master Dampit, among gallants. I am glad of that i'faith;— prithee what? They say you are waxed proud o'late, and if a friend visit you in the afternoon, you'll scarce know him. Fie, fie, proud? I cannot remember any such thing, sure I was drunk then. Think you so sir? There 'twas i'faith, nothing but the pride of the Sack and so certify 'em, fetch Sack sirrah. A vengeance Sack you once. Why Master Dampit if you hold on as you begin, and lie a little longer, you need not take care how to dispose your wealth, you'll make the Vintner your heir. Out you babliaminy, you unfettered cremitoried quean, you cullisance of scabiosity. Good words Master Dampit, to speak before a maid and a virgin. Hang thy virginity, upon the pole of carnality. Sweet terms, my Mistress shall know 'em. Note but the misery of this usuring slave, here he lies like a noisome dunghill, full of the poison of his drunken blasphemies, and they to whom he bequeathes all, grudge him the very meat that feeds him, the very pillow that eases him, here may a usurer behold his end, what profits it to be a slave in this world, and a devil i'th' next.
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)
Maiſter Wit-good? My life. Meete me preſently, that note directs you, I would not be ſuſpected our happineſſe attends vs, farewell? A words ynough. Let the Vſurer cram him, in intereſt that excell, There's pits enow to dam him, before he comes to hell. In Holborne, ſome: in Fleete-ſtreet ſome, Ʋ Ʋhere ere he come, there's ſome there's ſome. Trahe, traheto, drawe the Curtaine, giue mee a ſippe of Sack more. Looke you, did not I tell you he lay like the deuill in chaines, when he was bound for a thouſand yeare. But I thinke the deuill had no ſteele Bedſtaffes, he goes beyond him for that. Nay doe but marke the conceite of his drincking, one muſt wipe his mouth for him with a muckinder, do you ſee ſir. Is this the ſick trampler, why he is onely bed-red with drincking. True ſir, he ſpies vs. What? ſir Triſtram? you come and ſee a weake man here, a very weake man,— If you be weake in body, you ſhould be ſtrong in prayer ſir. Oh, I haue pray'd too much poore man. There's a taſt of his ſoule for you. Fah, loathſome? I come to borrow a hundred pound of you ſir. Alaſſe you come at an ill time, I cannot ſpare it ifayth, I ha but two thouſand ith houſe. Ha, ha, ha. Out you gernatiue queane, the mullipood of villany, the Spinner of concupiſcency. Yee gentlemen are you here before vs? how is hee now? Faith the ſame man ſtill, the Tauerne bitch has bit him ith head. Wee ſhall haue the better ſport with him, peace, and how cheeres Maiſter Dampit now? Oh, my boſome ſir Lancelot, how cheere I? thy preſence is reſtoratiue: But I heare a great complaint of you Maiſter Dampit, among gallants. I am glad of that ifayth; —prethee what? They ſay you are waxte proud alate, and if a friend viſit you in the after-noone, you'le ſcarce know him. Fie, fie, proud? I cannot remember any ſuch thing, ſure I was drunck then. Thinke you ſo ſir? There twas ifayth, nothing but the pride of the Sack and ſo certifie e'm, fetch Sack ſirrah. A vengeance Sack you once. Why Maiſter Dampit if you hold on as you begin, and lie a little longer, you neede not take care how to diſpoſe your wealth, you'le make the Vintner your heire. Out you babliaminy, you vnfetherd cremitoryed queane, you culliſance of ſcabiofity. Good words Maiſter Dampit, to ſpeake before a maide and a virgin. Hang thy virginity, vpon the pole of carnality. Sweete tearmes, my Miſtris ſhall know e'm. Note but the miſery of this vſuring ſlaue, here hee lies like a noyſome dunghill, full of the poyſon of his druncken blaſphemies, and they to whome he bequeathes all, grudge him the very meate that feedes him, the very pillow that eaſes him, here may a vſurer behold his end, what profits it to be a ſlaue in this world, and a deuil ith next.