Middleton, Thomas · published 1608 · first performed or written 1606 [1604-1607] (Annals) comedy · Children of Paul's (second) T3 Sickness, physic and doctors typicality 0.76 · 473 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T3: doctor, master, cure, disease, pray, physic, physician, mr, sick, lady.
Where does it hold thee most, wench? All parts alike Sir. she says true still, for it holds her in none. Hark in thine ear, thou'rt breeding of young bones, I am afraid I have got thee with child i'faith. I fear that much sir. Oh, oh, if it should, a young Progress when als done. You have done your good will Sir. I see by her, 'tis nothing but a surfeit of Venus i'faith, and though I be old, I have gin't her, but since I had the power to make thee sick, I'll have the purse to make thee whole, that's certain; master Doctor. Sir. Let's hear I pray, what is't you minister to her? Marry Sir, some precious cordial, some costly refocillation, a composure comfortable and restorative. ay, ay, that, that, that. No poorer ingrediences than the liquour of coral, clear Amber, or Succinum, unicorns horn six grains, Magisterium, Perlarum one scruple. Ah. Ossis de cord Cervi half a scruple, Aurum Potabile or his tincture. Very precious Sir. All which being finely contunded, and mixed in a stone or glass mortar, with the spirit of Diamber. Nay pray be patient Sir. That's impossible, I cannot be Patient and a Physician too Sir. Oh, cry you mercy, that's true Sir. All which aforesaid. ay, there you left Sir. When it is almost exsiccate or dry, I add thereto olei Succini, olei Masi, & Sinamoni. So Sir, olei Masi, that same oil of Maze is a great comfort to both the Counters. And has been of a long time Sir. Well, be of good cheer wench, there's gold for thee; huh, let her want for nothing M. Doctor, a poor kinswoman of mine, nature binds me to have a care of her; there I gulled you M. Doctor: gather up a good spirit wench, the fit will away, 'tis but a surfeit of gristles: ha, ha, I have fitted her; an old Knight and a cock a'th' game still, I have not spurs for nothing I see. No by my faith, they're hatched, they cost you an Angel sir. Look to her good M. Doctor, let her want nothing, I've given her enough already, Ha, ha, ha. So, is he gone? he's like himself gone. here's somewhat to set up with; how soon he took occasion to slip into his own flattery, soothing his own defects; he only fears he has done that deed, which I near feared to come from him in my life, this purchase came unlooked for. H'ist, the pair of sons and heirs. Oh, they're welcome, they bring money. M. Doctor. I come to you Gentleman. How does she now? Faith much after one fashion sir. There's hope of life sir. I see no signs of death of her. That's some comfort; will she take any thing yet?
nodes 574–613 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 17 of 36 in this edition
Length
473 words · 680 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T3 — Sickness, physic and doctorscross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.765 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
seed 43: T3 · seed 44: T4 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Where do's it hold thee moſt, wench? All parts alike Sir. Shee ſayes true ſtill, for it holds her in none. Harke in thine eare, thou'rt breeding of yong bones, I am afraid I haue got thee with child yfaith. I feare that much ſir. Oh, oh, if it ſhould, a yong Progreſſe when al's done. You haue done your good will Sir. I ſee by her, tis nothing but a ſurfet of Venus yfaith, and tho I bee old, I haue gin't her, but ſince I had the power to make thee ſicke, Ile haue the purſe to make thee whole, that's certaine; maſter Doctor. Sir. Lets heare I pray, what i'ſt you miniſter to her? Marry Sir, ſome pretious cordiall, ſome coſtly refocillation, a compoſure comfortable and reſtoratiue. I, I, that, that, that. No poorer ingrediences then the liquor of Currall, cleere Amber, or Succinum, Vnicornes horne ſixe grains, Magiſterium, Perlarum one ſcruple. Ah. Oſſis de Corde Cerui halfe a ſcruple, Aurum Potabile or his tincture. Very pretious Sir. All which being finely contunded, and mixed in a ſtone or glaſſe morter, with the ſpirit of Diamber. Nay pray be patient Sir. That's impoſſible, I cannot bee Patient and a Phiſition too Sir. Oh, crie you mercy, that's true Sir. All which aforeſaid. I, there you left Sir. When it is almoſt exſiccate or drie, I adde thereto olei Succini, olei Maſi, & Sinamoni. So Sir, olei Maſi, that ſame oyle of Maſe is a great comfort to both the Counters. And has beene of a long time Sir. Well, bee of good cheere wench, ther's gold for thee; huh, let her want for nothing M. Doctor, a poore kinſewoman of mine, nature bindes me to haue a care of her; there I guld you M. Doctor: gather vp a good ſpirit wench, the fit will away, tis but a ſurfet of griſtles: ha, ha, I haue ſitted her; an old Knight and a cocke a'th game ſtill, I haue not ſpurs for nothing I ſee. No by my faith, the're hatcht, they coſt you an Angell ſir. Looke to her good M. Doctor, let her want nothing, I'ue given her enough already, Ha, ha, ha. So, is he gone? Hee's like himſelfe gon. Heer's ſomewhat to ſet vp with; how ſoone he tooke occaſion to ſlip into his owne flattery, ſoothing his own defects; he onely feares he has done that deed, which I nere feard to come from him in my life, this purchaſe came vnlookt for. H'iſt, the paire of ſonnes and heires. Oh, the're welcome, they bring money. M. Doctor. I come to you Gentleman. How do's ſhe now? Faith much after one faſhion ſir. There's hope of life ſir. I ſee no ſignes of death of her. That's ſome comfort; will ſhe take any thing yet?