The Roaring Girl, or Moll Cutpurse · chunk 40 of 47
Dekker, Thomas / Middleton, Thomas · published 1611 · first performed or written 1611 (Annals) comedy · Prince Henry's Men · Fortune T8 Captains, gallants and cheats typicality 0.76 · 502 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T8: captain, master, money, gentleman, little, lieutenant, rogue, pray, minos, honest.
He says his wench stays for him in an alehouse: you are no pure rogues. Pure rogues? no, we scorn to be pure rogues, but if you come to our lib., or our stalling ken, you shall find neither him nor me, a choir cuffin. So sir, no churl of you. No, but a been cave, a brave cave, a gentry cuffin. Call you this canting? Zounds, I'll give a schoolmaster half a crown a week, and teach me this peddlers French. Do but stroll sir, half a harvest with us sir, and you shall gabble your bellyful. Come you rogue cant with me. Well said Moll, cant with her sirrah, and you shall have money, else not a penny. I'll have a bout if she please. Come on sirrah. Ben mort, shall you and I heave a booth, mill a ken or nip a bung, and then we'll couch a hogshead under the Ruffemans, and there you shall wap with me, & I'll niggle with you. Out you damned impudent rascal. Cut benar whiddes, and hold your fambles and your stamps. Nay, nay, Moll, why art thou angry? what was his gibberish? Marry this my Lord says he; Ben mort (good wench) shall you and I heave a booth, mill a ken, or nip a bung? shall you and I rob a house, or cut a purse? Very Good. (man's: And then we'll couch a hogshead under the Ruff- And then we'll lie under a hedge. That was my desire Captain, as 'tis fit a soldier should lie. And there you shall wap with me, and I'll niggle with you, and that's all. Nay, nay Moll what's that wap. Nay teach me what niggling is, I'd fain be niggling. Wapping and niggling is all one, the rogue my man can tell you. 'Tis fadoodling: if it please you. This is excellent, one fit more good Moll, Come you rogue sing with me. A gage of been Rom-bouse In a bousing ken of Rom-vile. Is Benar then a Caster, Peck, pennam, lay or popler, Which we mill in deus a vile. Oh I would lib. the lightmans. Oh I would lib. the darkemans, By the sollamon under the Ruffemans. By the sollamon in the Hartmans. And scour the Choir cramp ring, And couch till a pallyard docked my dell, So my bouzy nab might skew roam bouse well Avast to the pad, let us bing, Avast to the pad, let us bing. Fine knaves i'faith. The grating of ten new cartwheels, and the gruntling of five hundred hogs coming from Rumford market, cannot make a worse noise than this canting language does in my ears; pray my Lord Noland, let's give these soldiers their pay. Agreed, and let them march. Here Moll. Now I see that you are staled to the rogue, and are not ashamed of your professions, look you: my Lord Noland here and these Gentlemen, bestows upon you two, two boards and a half, that's two shillings six pence.
nodes 1933–1978 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 40 of 47 in this edition
Length
502 words · 740 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T8 — Captains, gallants and cheatscross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.763 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
seed 43: T11 · seed 44: T14 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Hee sayes his wench staies for him in an alehouse: you are no pure rogues. Pure rogues? no, wee scorne to be pure rogues, but if you come to our lib ken, or our stalling ken, you shall finde neither him nor mee, a quire cuffin. So sir, no churle of you. No, but a ben caue, a braue caue, a gentry cuffin. Call you this canting? Zounds, I'le giue a schoolemaister halfe a crowne a week, and teach mee this pedlers French. Do but strowle sir, halfe a haruest with vs sir, and you shall gabble your belly-full. Come you rogue cant with me. Well sayd Mol, cant with her sirra, and you shall haue mony, else not a penny. I'le haue a bout if she please. Come on sirra. Ben mort, shall you and I heaue a booth, mill a ken or nip a bung, and then wee'l couch a hogshead vnder the Ruffemans, and there you shall wap with me, & Ile niggle with you. Out you damn'd impudent rascall. Cut benar whiddes, and hold your fambles and your stampes. Nay, nay, Mol, why art thou angry? what was his gibberish? Marry this my Lord sayes hee; Ben mort (good wench) shal you and I heaue a booth, mill a ken, or nip a bung? shall you and I rob a house, or cut a purse? Very Good. (mans: And then wee'l couch a hogshead vnder the Ruffe- And then wee'l lie vnder a hedge. That was my desire Captaine, as 'tis fit a souldier should lie. And there you shall wap with mee, and I'le niggle with you, and that's all. Nay, nay Mol what's that wap? Nay teach mee what niggling is, I'de faine bee niggling. Wapping and niggling is all one, the rogue my man can tell you. 'Tis fadoodling: if it please you. This is excellent, one fit more good Moll, Come you rogue sing with me. A gage of ben Rom-bouse In a bousing ken of Rom-vile. Is Benar then a Caster, Pecke, pennam, lay or popler, Which we mill in deuse a vile. Oh I wud lib all the lightmans. Oh I woud lib all the darkemans, By the sollamon vnder the Ruffemans. By the sollamon in the Hartmans. And scoure the Quire cramp ring, And couch till a pallyard docked my dell, So my bousy nab might skew rome bouse well Auast to the pad, let vs bing, Auast to the pad, let vs bing. Fine knaues i'faith. The grating of ten new cart-wheeles, and the gruntling of fiue hundred hogs cōming from Rumford market, cannot make a worse noyse then this canting language does in my eares; pray my Lord Noland, let's giue these souldiers their pay. Agreed, and let them march. Heere Mol. Now I see that you are stal'd to the rogue, and are not ashamed of your professions, looke you: my Lord Noland heere and these Gentlemen, bestowes vpon you two, two boordes and a halfe, that's two shillings sixe pence.