Jonson, Ben · published 1612 · first performed or written 1610 (Annals) comedy · King's Men T3 Sickness, physic and doctors typicality 0.60 · 480 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T3: doctor, master, cure, disease, pray, physic, physician, mr, sick, lady.
The Thumb, in Chiromantie, we give Venus; The Forefinger to Ioue; the Midst, to Saturn; The Ring to Sol, the Least, to Mercury: Who was the Lord, Sir, of his Horoscope, His House of life being Libra. Which foreshowed, He should be a Merchant, and should trade with Balance. Why, this is strange! Is't not, honest Nab? There is a Ship now, coming from Ormu's, That shall yield him, such a Commodity Of Drugs. This is the West, and this the South? Yes, Sir. And those are your two sides? ay, Sir. Make me your Door, then, South; your broad side, West: And, on the eastside of your shop, aloft, Write Mathlaj, Tarmiel, and Baraborat; Upon the North-part, Rael, Velel, Thiel, They are the names of those Mercurian spirits, That do fright flies from boxes. Yes, Sir, And Beneath your threshold, bury me a Loadstone To draw in Gallants, that wear spurs: The rest, They'll seem to follow. That's a secret, Nab. And, on your stall, a Puppet, with a vice, And a Court-fucus, to call Citie-Dames. You shall deal much, with Minerals. Sir, I have, At home, already— ay, I know, youhave Arsnike, Vitriol, Sal Tartre, Argaile, Alkaly, Cinoper. I know all. This fellow, Captain, Will come, in time, to be a great Distiller, And give a say (I will not say directly, But very fair) at the Philosopher's stone. Why, how now Abel! Is this true? Good Captain, What must I give? Nay, I'll not counsel thee. Thou hearst, what wealth, he says, spend what thou canst, thouart like to come too. I would gi'him a Crown. A Crown? And toward such a fortune? heart, Thou shalt rather gi'him thy shop. No Gold about thee? Yes, I have a Portague, I ha'kept this half year. Out on thee, Nab, 'Slight, there was such an offer, Shalt keepeed no longer, I'll gi'it him for thee? Doctor, Nab prays your Worship, to drink this, and swears He will appear more grateful, as your skill Does raise him in the world. I would entreat Another favour of his Worship. What is't, Nab? But, to look over, Sir, my Almanac, And cross out my Ill-dayes, that I may neither Bargain, nor trust upon them. That he shall, Nab. Leave it, it shall be done, against afternoon. And a direction for his shelves. Now, Nab? Art thou well pleased, Nab? Thank, Sir, both your Worships. Away. Why, now, you smoky persecuter of Nature, Now, do you see, that something's to be done, Beside your Beech-coale, and your Corrosive waters, Your Crosselets, Crucibles, and Cucurbites? You must have stuff, brought home to you, to work on? And, yet, you think, I am at no expense. In searching out these veins, then following 'em, Then trying'hem out. 'Fore God, my intelligence Costs me more money, than my share oft comes too, In these rare works.
nodes 598–671 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 9 of 53 in this edition
Length
480 words · 752 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T3 — Sickness, physic and doctorscross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.601 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
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)
The Thumbe, in Chiromantie, we giue Venus; The Fore-finger to Ioue; the Midst, to Saturne; The Ring to Sol, the Least, to Mercurie: Who was the Lord, Sir, of his Horoscope, His House of life being Libra. Which foreshew'd, He should be a Marchant, and should trade with Ballance. VVhy, this is strange! Is't not, honest Nab? There is a Ship now, comming from Ormu's, That shall yeeld him, such a Commoditie Of Drugs. This is the West, and this the South? Yes, Sir. And those are your two sides? I, Sir. Make me your Dore, then, South; your broad side, West: And, on the East-side of your shop, aloft, Write Mathlaj, Tarmiel, and Baraborat; Vpon the North-part, Rael, Velel, Thiel, They are the names of those Mercurian spirits, That doe fright flyes from boxes. Yes, Sir, And Beneath your threshold, bury me a Loade-stone To draw in Gallants, that weare spurres: The rest, They'll seeme to follow. That's a secret, Nab. And, on your stall, a Puppet, with a vice, And a Court-fucus, to call Citie-Dames. You shall deale much, with Mineralls. Sir, I haue, At home, already— I, I know, you'haue Arsnike, Vitriol, Sal Tartre, Argaile, Alkaly, Cinoper. I know all. This fellow, Captayne, Will come, in time, to be a great Distiller, And giue a say (I will not say directly, But very fayre) at the Philosophers stone. Why, how now Abel! Is this true? Good Captayne, What must I giue? Nay, Ile not counsell thee. Thou hearst, what wealth, he sayes, spend what thou canst, Th'art like to come too. I would gi'him a Crowne. A Crowne? And toward such a fortune? Hart, Thou shalt rather gi'him thy shop. No Gold about thee? Yes, I haue a Portague, I ha'kept this halfe yeare. Out on thee, Nab, 'Slight, there was such an offer, 'Shalt keepe't no longer, I'll gi'it him for thee? Doctor, Nab prayes your Worship, to drinke this, and sweares He will appeare more gratefull, as your skill Do's raise him in the world. I would intreat Another fauor of his Worship. What is't, Nab? But, to looke ouer, Sir, my Almanack, And crosse out my Ill-dayes, that I may neither Bargaine, nor trust vpon them. That he shall, Nab. Leaue it, it shall be done, 'gainst afternoone. And a direction for his shelues. Now, Nab? Art thou well pleas'd, Nab? Thank, Sir, both your Worships. Away. Why, now, you smoaky persecuter of Nature, Now, doe you see, that something's to be done, Beside your Beech-coale, and your Cor'siue waters, Your Crosse-lets, Crucibles, and Cucurbites? You must haue stuffe, brought home to you, to worke on? And, yet, you thinke, I am at no expense. In searching out these vaines, then following 'hem, Then trying'hem out. 'Fore God, my intelligence Costs me more money, then my share oft comes too, In these rare workes.