Jonson, Ben · published 1609 · first performed or written 1597 [1597-1598; interpolations later] (Annals) comedy · Pembroke's Men T6 Money, debt and credit typicality 0.67 · 496 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T6: money, master, pound, law, lawyer, chain, gentleman, gold, pay, pray.
Mass, that's true, at the old Priory behind S. Foyes. Agreed, no better place, i'll meet you there. Do good fool, do, but i'll not meet you there. Now to this gear, Iaques, Iaques, what Iaques? Who calls? whose's there? Iaques. Who calls? Steward, he comes, he comes Iaques. What voice is this? nobody here, was I not called? I was. And one cried Iaques with a hollow voice, I was deceived, no I was not deceived, See see, it was an Angel called me forth, Gold, gold, man-making gold, another star, Drop they from heaven, no, no, my house I hope Is haunted with a Fairy. My dear Lar, My household God, My Fairy on my knees. Iaques. My Lar doth call me, o sweet voice. Musical as the spheres, see, see, more gold. Iaques. What Rachel, Rachel, lock my door, look to my house. Iaques. Shut fast my door, a golden crown, Iaques shall be a king. To a fools paradise that path will bring Thee and thy household Lar. What means my father, I wonder what strange humour. Come sweet soul, leave wondering, start not, 'twas I laid this plot to get thy father forth. O Angelo. O me no oo's, but hear, my Lord your love, Paulo Ferneze is returned from war, Lingers at Pont Valeria, and from thence By post at midnight last, I was conjured To man you thither, stand not on replies, A horse is saddled for you, will you go, And I am for you, if you will stay, why so. O Angelo, each minute is a day till my Ferneze come, come we'll away sir. Sweet soul I guess thy meaning by thy looks, At pont Valerio thou thy love shalt see, But not Ferneze, Steward fare you well. You wait for Rachel to, when can you tell? O in what golden circle have I danced? Milan these odorous and enflowered fields Are none of thine, no here's Elysium, Here blessed ghosts do walk, this is the Court And glorious palace where the God of gold Shines like the son, of sparkling majesty; O fair feathered, my red-breasted birds, Come fly with me, i'll bring you to a quire, Whose consort being sweetened with your sound: The music will be fuller, and each hour These ears shall banquet with your harmony o, o, o, At the old priory, behind Saint Foyes, That was the place of our appointment sure: I hope he will not make me lose my gold, And mock me to, perhaps they are within: I'll knock. O God, the case is altered. Rachel? signor Angelo? Angels? I where? mine Angels? where's my gold? Why Rachel? O thou thievish cannibal, Thou eatest my flesh in stealing of my gold. What gold? What gold? Rachel call help, come forth, I'll rip thine entrails, but i'll have my gold: Rachel why comes thou not? I am undone, Ay me she speaks not, thou hast slain my child.
nodes 1514–1579 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 31 of 36 in this edition
Length
496 words · 708 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T6 — Money, debt and creditcross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.667 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: T10 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Maſſe, that's true, at the old Priory behinde S. Foyes. Agreed, no better place, ile meete you there. Do good foole, do, but ile not meet you there. Now to this geere, Iaques, Iaques, what Iaques? Who cals? whoſe there? Iaques. Who cals? Steward, he comes, he comes Iaques. What voice is this? no body here, was I not cald? I was. And one cride Iaques with a hollow voyce, I was deceiu'd, no I was not deceiu'd, See ſee, it was an Angell cald me forth, Gold, gold, man▪ making gold, another ſtarre, Drop they from heauen, no, no, my houſe I hope Is haunted with a Fairy. My deere Lar, My houſhold God, My Fairy on my knees. Iaques. My Lar doth call me, ô ſweet voyce. Muſicall as the ſpheares, ſee, ſee, more gold. Iaques. What Rachel, Rachel, lock my doore, looke to my houſe. Iaques. Shut faſt my doore, a golden crowne, Iaques ſhall be a king. To a fooles paradice that path will bring Thee and thy houſhold Lar. What means my father, I wonder what ſtrange humor. Come ſweete ſoule, leaue wondring, ſtart not, twas I laid this plot to get thy father forth. O Angelo. O me no oo's, but heare, my Lord your loue, Paulo Ferneze is returnd from warre, Lingers at Pont Valeria, and from thence By poſt at midnight laſt, I was coniur'd To man you thither, ſtand not on replies, A horſe is ſadled for you, will you go, And I am for you, if you will ſtay, why ſo. O Angelo, each minute is a day till my Ferneze come, come weele away ſir. Sweet ſoule I gueſſe thy meaning by thy lookes, At pot Valerio thou thy loue ſhalt ſee, But not Ferneze, Steward fare you well. You wait for Rachel to, when can you tell? O in what golden circle haue I dan'ſt? Millaine theſe od'rous and enfloured fields Are none of thine, no heres Elizium, Heere bleſſed ghoſts do walke, this is the Court And glorious palace where the God of gold Shines like the ſonne, of ſparkling maieſty; O faire fethered, my red-breſted birds, Come flye with me, ile bring you to a quier, Whoſe conſort being ſweetned with your ſound: The muſique will be fuller, and each hower Theſe eares ſhall banquet with your harmony ô, ô, ô, At the old priorie, behind Saint Foyes, That was the place of our appointment ſure: I hope he will not make me looſe my gold, And mock me to, perhaps they are within: Ile knock. O God, the caſe is alterd. Rachel? Signior Angelo? Angels? I where? mine Angels? wher's my gold? Why Rachel? O thou theeuiſh Canibal, Thou eateſt my fleſh in ſtealing of my gold. What gold? What gold? Rachel call help, come forth, Ile rip thine entrailes, but ile haue my gold: Rachel why comes thou not? I am vndone, Ay me ſhe ſpeakes not, thou haſt ſlaine my child.