Anonymous · published 1608 · first performed or written 1602 [1599-1604] (Annals) comedy · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men · Globe unassigned nearest T41 Household service: masters, doors and po · 511 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T41: master, house, door, iohn, old, mistress, basket, lord, gentleman, ick.
Frank Ierningham, thou art a gallant boy, And were he not my pupil I would say, He were as fine a mettled gentleman, Of as free spirit and of as fine a temper, As is in England, and he is a Man, That very richly may deserve thy love. But noble Clare, this while of our discourse, What may Mounchensey, honour to thyself, Exact upon the measure of thy grace? Raymond Mounchensey? I would have thee know, He does not breathe this air, Whose love I cherish, and whose soul I love, More than Mounchensey's: Nor ever in my life did see the man, Whom for his wit and many virtuous parts, I think more worthy of my sister's love. But since the matter grows unto this pass, I must not seem to cross my Father's will. But when thou list to visit her by night, My horses saddled, and the stable door Stands ready for thee, use them at thy pleasure, In honest marriage wed her frankly boy, And if thou getst her lad, God give thee joy. Then care away, let fates my fall pretend, Backed with the favours of so true a friend. Let us alone to bustle for the set, For age and craft, with wit and Art have met. I'll make my spirits to dance such nightly jigs Along the way twixt this and Totnam cross, The carrier's jades shall cast their heavy packs, And the strong hedges scarce shall keep them in: The Milkmaid's Cuts shall turn the wenches off, And lay the Dossers tumbling in the dust: The frank and merry London prentices, That come for cream and lusty country cheer, Shall lose their way, and scrambling in the ditches All night, shall whoop and hollow, cry and call, Yet none to other find the way at all. Pursue the project scholar, what we can do, To help endeavour join our lives thereto. Take me with you good Sir Iohn; a plague on thee Smug, and thou touchest liquour thou art foundered straight: what are your brains always water-mills? must they ever run round? Banks, your ale is a Philistine fox, 'sheart there's fire i'th' tail: out; you are a rogue to charge us with Mugs i'th' rearward: a plague of this wind, O it tickles our Catastrophe. Neighbour Banks of Waltham, and Goodman Smug the honest Smith of Edmonton, as I dwell betwixt you both that Enfield, I know the taste of both your ale houses, they are good both, smart both: Hem, Grass and hay, we are all mortal, let's live till we die, and be merry and there's an end. Well said sir Iohn, you are of the same humour still, and doth the water run the same way still boy? Vulcan was a rogue to him; Sir Iohn lock, lock, lock fast sir Iohn: so sir Iohn, I'll one of these years when it shall please the Goddesses and the destinies, be drunk in your company; that's all now, and God fend us health; shall I swear I love you?
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)
Franke Ierningham, thou art a gallant boy, And were he not my pupill I would say, He were as fine a metled gentleman, Of as free spirit and of as fine a temper, As is in England, and he is a Man, That very richly may deserue thy loue. But noble Clare, this while of our discourse, What may Mounchensey, honour to thy selfe, Exact vpon the measure of thy grace? Raymond Mounchensey? I would haue thee know, He does not breath this ayre, Whose loue I cherish, and whose soule I loue, More then Mounchenseyes: Nor euer in my life did see the man, Whom for his wit and many vertuous parts, I thinke more worthy of my sisters loue. But since the matter growes vnto this passe, I must not seeme to crosse my Fathers will. But when thou list to visit her by night, My horses sadled, and the stable doore Stands ready for thee, vse them at thy pleasure, In honest mariage wed her frankly boy, And if thou getst her lad, God giue thee ioy. Then care away, let fates my fall pretend, Backt with the fauours of so true a friend. Let vs alone to bussell for the set, For age and craft, with wit and Art haue met. Ile make my spirits to dance such nightly Iigs Along the way twixt this and Totnam crosse, The Carriers Iades shall cast their heauie packs, And the strong hedges scarse shall keepe them in: The Milke-maides Cuts shall turne the wenches off, And lay the Dossers tumbling in the dust: The franke and merry London prentises, That come for creame and lusty country cheere, Shall lose their way, and scrambling in the ditches All night, shall whoop and hollow, cry and call, Yet none to other finde the way at all. Pursue the proiect scholler, what we can do, To helpe indeauour ioyne our liues thereto. Take me with you good Sir Iohn; a plague on thee Smug, and thou touchest liquor thou art founderd straight: what are your braines alwayes water-milles? must they euer runne round? Banks, your ale is a Philistine fox, z'hart theres fire i'th taile: out; you are a rogue to charge vs with Mugs i'th rereward: a plague of this winde, O it tickles our Catastrophe. Neighbour Banks of Waltham, and Goodman Smug the honest Smith of Edmonton, as I dwell betwixt you bothat Enfield, I know the taste of both your ale houses, they are good both, smart both: Hem, Grasse and hay, we are all mortall, let's liue till we die, and be merry and theres an end. Well said sir Iohn, you are of the same humor still, and doth the water runne the same way still boy? Uulcan was a rogue to him; Sir Iohn locke, lock, lock fast sir Iohn: so sir Iohn, Ile one of these yeares when it shall please the Goddesses and the destinies, be drunke in your company; thats all now, and God fend vs health; shall I sweare I loue you?