Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T35: fool, wit, aristippus, achilles, wise, fools, patroclus, thersites, master, men.
When you went pinned up, in the several rags, Yo'had raked, and picked from dungh●s, before day, Your feet in mouldy sippers, for your kibes, A felt of rug, and a thin threaden cloak, That scarce would cover your no-buttockes. So Sr. When all your Alchemye, and your Algebra, Your Minerals, Vegetals, and Animals, Your Conjuring, Cozening, and your dozen of Trades Could not relieve your corpse, with so much linen Would make you tinder, but to see a fire; I ga'you countenance, credit for your Coals, Your Stills, your Glasses, your Materials, Built you a Furnace, drew you Customers, Advanced all your black Arts; lent you, beside. A house to practise in. Your Master's house? Where you have studied the more thriving skill Of Bawdry, since. Yes, in your Master's house. You, and the Rats, here, kept possession. Make it not strange. I know, you were one, could keep The Buttery-hatch still locked, and save the chip, Sell the dole-beer to aquavitae men, The which, together with your Christmas veils, At Post, and Pair, your letting out of Counters, Made you a pretty stock some twenty marks, And gave you credit, to converse with cobwebs, Here, since your Mistress death hath broke up house. You might talk softlier, Rascal. No, you Scarab, I'll thunder you, in pieces. I will teach you How to beware, to tempt a Fury ' again That carries tempest in his hand, and voice. The Place has made you valiant. No, your Clothes. Thou Vermin have I ta'en thee, out of dung, So poor, so wretched, when no living thing Would keep thee company, but a Spider, or worse? Raised thee from brooms, and dust, and watering pots? Sublsmed thee, and exalted thee, and fixed thee I'the third region, the high state of grace? Wrought thee to spirit, to quintessence, with pains Would twice have won me the Philosopher's work? Put thee in words, and fashion? made thee fit For more than ordinary fellowships? Given thee thy oaths, thy quarreling dimensions? Thy rules, to cheat at horse-race, cockpit, cards, Dice, or what ever gallant tincture, else? Made thee a Second, in mine own great Art? And have I this for thank? Doe'you rebel? Do you fly out, i'the projection? Would you be gone now? Gentlemen, what mean you? Will you mar all? Slave, thou hadst had no Name, Will you undo yourselves, with civil war? Never been known, past Equi Clibanum, The heat of horse-dung, under ground, in cellars, Or an Alehouse, darker than deaf John's: been lost To all mankind, but Laundresses, and Tapsters, Had not I been. d'ye know who hears you, Sovereign? Srah— Nay General, I thought you were civil. I shall turn desperate, if you grow thus loud. And hang thyself, I care not. Hang thee, Collier, And all thy pots, and pans, in picture I will, Since thou hast moved me.
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)
When you went pinn'd vp, in the seuerall ragges, Yo'had rak'd, and pick'd from dunghs, before day, Your feete in mouldy sppers, for your kibes, A felt of rugg, and a thin thredden cloake, That scarce would couer your no-buttockes. So Sr. When all your Alchemye, and your Algebra, Your Mineralls, Vegetalls, and Animalls, Your Coniuring, Cosning, and your dosen of Trades Could not relieue your corps, with so much linnen Would make you tinder, but to see a fire; I ga'you count'nance, credit for your Coales, Your Stilles, your Glasses, your Materialls, Built you a Fornace, drew you Customers, Aduanc'd all your blacke Arts; lent you, beside. A house to practise in. Your Masters house? Where you haue studied the more thriuing skill Of Bawdry, since. Yes, in your Masters house. You, and the Rats, here, kept possession. Make it not strange. I know, you were one, could keepe The Buttry-hatch still lock'd, and saue the chippings, Sell the dole-beere to Aqua-vtae men, The which, together with your Christmasse vailes, At Post, and Paire, your letting out of Counters, Made you a pretty stocke some twenty markes, And gaue you credit, to conuerse with cobwebs, Here, since your Mistresse death hath broke vp house. You might talke softlier, Raskall. No, you Scarabe, I'll thunder you, in peeces. I will teach you How to beware, to tempt a Fury' againe That carries tempest in his hand, and voyce. The Place has made you valiant. No, your Clothes. Thou Vermine haue I tane thee, out of dung, So poore, so wretched, when no liuing thing Would keepe thee company, but a Spider, or worse? Raysd thee from broomes, and dust, and watring pots? Sublsm'd thee, and exaled thee, and fix'd thee I'the third region, the high state of grace? Wrought thee to spirit, to quintessence, with paines Would twise haue wonne me the Philosophers worke? Put thee in words, and fashion? made thee fit For more then ordinary fellowships? Giu'n thee thy othes, thy quarrelling dimensions? Thy rules, to cheate at horse-race, cock-pit, cardes, Dice, or what euer gallant tincture, else? Made thee a Second, in mine owne great Art? And haue I this for thanke? Doe'you rebell? Doe you flye out, i'the proiection? Would you be gone now? Gentlemen, what meane you? Will you marre all? Slaue, thou hadst had no Name, Will you vndoe your selues, with ciuill warre? Neuer beene knowne, past Equi Clibanum, The heate of horse-dung, vnder ground, in cellars, Or an Ale-house, darker then deafe Iohn's: bene lost To all mankinde, but Laundresses, and Tapsters, Had not I beene. Do'you know who heares you, Soueraigne? Srah— Nay Generall, I thought you were ciuill. I shall turne desperate, if you grow thus loud. And hang thy selfe, I care not. Hang thee, Colliar, And all thy pots, and pans, in picture I will, Since thou hast mou'd me.