Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T20: hercules, hercles, ioue, deianeira, alcides, hand, lo, death, skies, hell.
Truly I have such a one in my shop that will pair iron as it were a rope have, here it is, gird it to thy side Now far thou well, Iupiter be thy guide gramercy Mulciber with my hole heart give me thy hand and let us depart Now I go hence, and put myself in press I will seek adventures, yea and that I will not cease If there be any present here this night that will take upon them with me to fight Let them come quickly, and the battle shall be pyghte Where is Cacus that knave? not worth a groat that was wont to blow clouds out of his throat Which stolen Hercules kine and hid them in his cave Come hither Cacus, thou lubber and false knave I will teach all wretches by the to beware If thou come hither I trap the in a snare thou shalt have knocked bread and ill fare how say you good godfather that look so stolen ye seem a man to be borne in the vale Dare ye adventure with me a stripe or two Go coward go hide the as thou wast wont to do What a sort of dasterdes have we hear None of you to battle with me dare appear What say you heart of gold, of countenance so demure? Will you fight with me? no, I am right sure Fie blush not woman, I will do you no harm Except I had you sooner to keep my back warm Alas little pums why are ye so sore afraid? I pray you show how long it is? sense ye were a maid Tell me in mine ear, sirs, she hath me told That gone was her mydenhead, at thrustene year old By'r lady she was loath to keep it to long And I were a maid again, now may be here song Do after my connsel of maidens the hole bevye Quickly red your maydehed, for they are vengeance heavy Well, let all go, why? will none come in With me to fight that I may pair his skin What say you my son will ye fight? god it defend For what cause to war do you now pretend Will ye commit to battles dangerous your life that is to me so precious. I will go, I will go. stop not my way Hold me not good mother I heartily you pray If there be any lions, or other wild be'st That will not suffer the husband man in rest I will go seeche them and bid them to afeest They shall abye bitterly the coming of such a gest I will search for them both in bush and shrub And lay on a load with this lusty club O my sweet son, I am thy mother Wilt thou kill me and thou hast none other
seed 43: T17 · seed 44: T19 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
¶ Truely I haue suche a one in my shoppe that wil pare yron as it were a rope haue, here it is, gyrde it to thy syde Now fare thou well, Iupiter be thy guyde ¶ Gramercye Mulciber wyth my hole harte Geue me thy hande and let vs departe Nowe I go hence, and put my selfe in prease I wyll seeke aduentures, yea and that I wyll not cease If there be any present here thys nyghte that wyll take vpon them with me to fighte Let them come quickly, and the battayle shall be pyghte Where is Cacus that knaue? not worthe a grote that was wont to blowe cloudes oute of his throte Which stale Hercules kine and hyd them in his caue Come hether Cacus, thou lubber and false knaue I wyll teache all wretches by the to beware If thou come hether I trappe the in a snare thou shalt haue knocked breade and yll fare how say you good godfather that loke so stale ye seeme a man to be borne in the vale Dare ye aduenture wyth me a stripe or two Go coward go hide the as thou wast wonte to do What a sorte of dasterdes haue we here None of you to battaile with me dare appeare What saie you hart of gold, of countenaunce so demure? Will you fighte with me? no, I am righte sure Fye blusshe not woman, I wyll do you no harme Excepte I had you soner to kepe my backe warme Alas lyttle pums why are ye so sore afrayd? I praye you shew how longe it is? sence ye were a mayd Tell me in myne eare, syrs, she hathe me tolde That gone was her mydenhead, at thrustene yeare olde Byr ladye she was lothe to kepe it to longe And I were a mayde agayne, nowe maye be here songe Do after my connsel of maydens the hoole beuye Quickly red your maydehed, for they are vēgeaūce heuy Well, let all go, whye? wyll none come in With me to fyghte that I maye pare his skyn ¶ What saye you my sonne wyl ye fyght? god it defende For what cause to warre do you nowe pretende Wyll ye committe to battayles daungerous youre lyfe that is to me so precious. ¶ I wyll go, I wyll go. stoppe not my waye Holde me not good mother I hartely you pray If there be any lyons, or other wylde beest That wyll not suffer the husband man in rest I wyll go seeche them and byd them to afeest They shall abye bytterlye the comminge of suche a gest I wyll searche for them bothe in busshe and shrubbe And laye on a lode with this lustye clubbe ¶ O my swete sonne, I am thy mother Wylt thou kyll me and thou hast none other