The Roaring Girl, or Moll Cutpurse · chunk 38 of 47
Dekker, Thomas / Middleton, Thomas · published 1611 · first performed or written 1611 (Annals) comedy · Prince Henry's Men · Fortune unassigned nearest T50 Fleets, armies and generals: war by sea · 507 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T50: sea, honour, general, soldiers, men, ship, fight, soldier, king, vittori.
Moll and I'll be i'the midst. These Knights shall have squires places belike then: well Dapper what say y ou? Sirrah Captain mad Mary, the gull my own father (Dapper) Sir Davy) laid these London boot-halers the catchpoles in ambush to set upon me. Your father? away Jack. By the tassells of this handkercher 'tis true, and what was his warlike stratagem think you? he thought because a wicker cage tames a nightingale, a lousy prison could make an ass of me. A nasty plot. I; as though a Counter, which is a park, in which all the wild beasts of the City run head by head could tame me. Yonder comes my Lord Noland. Save you my Lord. Well met Gentlemen all, good Sir Bewtious Ganymed, Sir Thomas Long?, and how does Master Dapper? Thanks my Lord. No Tobacco my Lord? No faith Jack. My Lord Noland will you go to Pimlico with us? we are making a boon voyage to that happy land of spice-cakes here's such a merry ging, I could find in my heart to sail to the world's end with such company, come Gentlemen let's on. Here's most amorous weather my Lord. Amorous weather. Is not amorous a good word? Shall we set upon the infantry, these troops of foot? Zounds yonder comes Moll my whorish Master & Mistress, would I had her kidneys between my teeth. I had rather have a cow heel. Zounds I am so patched up, she cannot discover me: we'll on. Alla corago then. Good your Honours, and Worships, enlarge the ears of commiseration, and let the sound of a hoarse military organ-pipe, penetrate your pitiful bowels to extract out of them so many small drops of silver, as may give a hard straw-bed lodging to a couple of maimed soldiers. Where are you maimed? In both our neither limbs. Come, come, Dapper, let's give 'em something, 'las poor men, what money have you? by my troth I love a soldier with my soul. Stay, stay, where have you served? In any part of the Low countries? Not in the Low countries, if it please your manhood, but in Hungarie against the Turk at the siege of Belgrad. Who served there with you sirrah? Many Hungarians, Moldavians, Valachians, and Transylvanians, with some Sclauonians, and retiring home sir, the Venetian Galleys took us prisoners, yet freed us, and suffered us to beg up and down the country. You have ambled all over Italy then. Oh sir, from Venice to Roma, Vecchio, Bononia, Romania, Bolonia, Modena, Piacenza, and Tuscana, with all her Cities, as Pistoia, Valteria, Mountepulchena, Arrezzo, with the Siennois, and diverse others. Mere rogues, put spurs to 'em once more. Thou look'st like a strange creature, a fat butterbox, yet speak'st English, What art thou? Ick mine Here. Ick been den ruffling Tear-cat. Den, brave Soldade, Ick been dorick all Dutchlant. Gueresen: Der Shellum das mere Ine Beasa Ine woert gaeb. Ick slaag vin strokes ou tom Cop. Dastick Den hundred touzun Devil hall, frolic mive Here.
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)
Mol and I'le be i'the midst. These Knights shall haue squiers places belike then: well Dapper what say y ou? Sirra Captaine mad Mary, the gull my owne father (Dapper) Sir Dauy) laid these London boote-halers the catch poles in ambush to set vpon mee. Your father? away Iacke. By the tassels of this handkercher 'tis true, and what was his warlicke stratageme thinke you? hee thought because a wicker cage tames a nightingale, a lowsy prison could make an asse of mee. A nasty plot. I; as though a Counter, which is a parke, in which all the wilde beasts of the Citty run head by head could tame mee. Yonder comes my Lord Noland. Saue you my Lord. Well met Gentlemen all, good Sir Bewtious Ganymed, Sir Thomas Long?, and how does Maister Dapper? Thankes my Lord. No Tobacco my Lord? No faith Iacke. My Lord Noland will you goe to Pimlico with vs? wee are making a boone voyage to that appy land of spice-cakes Heeres such a merry ging, I could find in my heart to saile to the worlds end with such company, come Gentlemen let's on. Here's most amorous weather my Lord. Amorous weather. Is not amorous a good word? Shall we set vpon the infantry, these troopes of foot? Zounds yonder comes Mol my whoorish Maister & Mistresse, wold I had her kidneys betweene my teeth. I had rather haue a cow heele. Zounds I am so patcht vp, she cannot discouer mee: wee'l on. Alla corago then. Good your Honours, and Worships, enlarge the eares of commiseration, and let the sound of a hoarse military organ-pipe, penetrate your pittiful bowels to extract out of them so many small drops of siluer, as may giue a hard strawbed lodging to a couple of maim'd souldiers. Where are you maim'd? In both our neather limbs. Come, come, Dapper, lets giue 'em something, las poore men, what mony haue you? by my troth I loue a souldier with my soule. Stay, stay, where haue you seru'd? In any part of the Low countries? Not in the Low countries, if it please your manhood, but in Hungarie against the Turke at the siedge of Belgrad. Who seru'd there with you sirra? Many Hungarians, Moldauians, Valachians, and Transiluanians, with some Sclauonians, and retyring home sir, the Venetian Gallies tooke vs prisoners, yet free'd vs, and suffered vs to beg vp and downe the country. You haue ambled all ouer Italy then. Oh sir, from Venice to Roma, Uecchio, Bononia, Romania, Bolonia, Modena, Piacenza, and Tuscana, with all her Cities, as Pistoia, Valteria, Mountepulchena, Arrezzo, with the Siennois, and diuerse others. Meere rogues, put spurres to 'em once more. Thou look'st like a strange creature, a fat butterbox, yet speak'st English, What art thou? Ick mine Here. Ick bin den ruffling Teare-Cat. Den, braue Soldade, Ick bin dorick all Dutchlant. Gueresen: Der Shellum das meere Ine Beasa Ine woert gaeb. Ick slaag vin stroakes ou tom Cop. Dastick Den hundred touzun Diuell halle, Frollick miue Here.