Jonson, Ben · published 1616 · first performed or written 1610 (Annals) comedy · King's Men unassigned nearest T42 English historical figures: a mixed clus · 499 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T42: harry, percy, lord, king, god, falstalffe, frances, mowbray, life, mortimer.
Are you sound? Ha' you your senses, masters? I will have A book, but barely reckoning thy impostures, Shall prove a true philosopher's stone, to printers. Away, you trencher-raskall. Out you dog-leech, The vomit of all prisons— Will you be Your own destructions, gentlemen? Still spewed out For lying too heavy o'the basket. Cheater. Bawd. Cow-herd. conjuror. Cutpurse. Witch. O me! We are ruined! lost! Ha'you no more regard To your reputations? Where's your judgement? 'Slight, Have yet, some care of me, o'your republic— Away this brach. I'll bring thee, rogue, within The statute of sorcery, tricesimo tertio. Or HARRY the eight: I, and (perhaps) thy neck Within a noose, for laundring gold, and barbing it. You'll bring your head within a coxcomb, will you? And you, sir, with your menstrue, gather it up. 'Sdeath, you abominable pair of stinkards, Leave off your barking, and grow one again, Or, by the light that shines, I'll cut your throats. I'll not be made a prey unto the marshal, For ne'er a snarling dog-bolt o'you both. Ha' you together cozened all this while, And all the world, and shall it now be said Yo' have made most courteous shift, to cozen yourselves? You will accuse him? You will bring him in Within the statute? Who shall take your word? A whoreson, upstart, apocryphal captain, Whom not a puritane, in blackfriars, will trust So much, as for a feather! And you too, Will give the cause, forsooth? You will insult, And claim a primacy, in the divisions? You must be chief? as if you, only, had The powder to project with? and the work Were not begun out of equality? The venture tripartite? All things in common? Without priority? 'Sdeath, you perpetual curs, Fall to your couples again, and cousin kindly, And heartily, and lovingly, as you should, And lose not the beginning of a term, Or, by this hand, I shall grow factious too, And, take my part, and quit you. 'T is his fault, He ever murmurs, and objects his pains, And says, the weight of all lies upon him. Yes, but they are not equal. Why, if your part exceed today, I hope Ours may, tomorrow, match it. I, they may. May, murmuring mastiff? I, and do. Death on me! Help me to thrattell him. DOROTHY, mistress DOROTHY, O'ds precivos, I'll do anything. What do you mean? Because o'your fermentation, and cibation? Not I, by heaven— Your Sol, and Luna— help me. Would I were hanged then. I'll conform myself. Will you, sir, do so then, and quickly: swear. What should I swear? To leave your faction, sir. And labour, kindly, in the common work. Let me not breath, if I meant aught, beside. I only used those speeches, as a spur To him. I hope we need no spurs, sir. Do we? 'Slid, prove today, who shall shark best. Agreed. Yes, and work close, and friendly. 'Slight, the knot Shall grow the stronger, for this breach, with 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)
Are you ſound? Ha' you your ſenſes, maſters? I will haue A booke, but barely reckoning thy impoſtures, Shall proue a true philoſophers ſtone, to printers. Away, you trencher-raskall. Out you dog-leach, The vomit of all priſons— Will you be Your owne deſtructions, gentlemen? Still ſpew'd out For lying too heauy o'the basket. Cheater. Bawd. Cow-herd. Coniurer. Cut-purſe. Witch. O me! We are ruin'd! loſt! Ha'you no more regard To your reputations? Where's your iudgement? S'light, Haue yet, ſome care of me, o'your republique— Away this brach. I'll bring thee, rogue, within The statute of ſorcerie, triceſimo tertio. Or HARRY the eight: I, and (perhaps) thy necke Within a nooze, for laundring gold, and barbing it. You'll bring your head within a cocks-combe, will you? And you, ſir, with your menſtrue, gather it vp. S'death, you abominable paire of ſtinkards, Leaue off your barking, and grow one againe, Or, by the light that ſhines, I'll cut your throats. I'll not be made a prey vnto the marſhall, For ne're a ſnarling dog-bolt o'you both. Ha' you together coſſen'd all this while, And all the world, and ſhall it now be ſaid Yo' haue made moſt courteous ſhift, to coſen your ſelues? You will accuſe him? You will bring him in Within the ſtatute? Who ſhall take your word? A whore-ſonne, vpſtart, apocryphall captayne, Whom not a puritane, in black-friers, will truſt So much, as for a feather! And you too, Will giue the cauſe, forſooth? You will inſult, And claime a primacie, in the diuiſions? You muſt be chiefe? as if you, onely, had The poulder to proiect with? and the worke Were not begun out of equalitie? The venter tripartite? All things in common? Without prioritie? S'death, you perpetuall curres, Fall to your couples againe, and coſſen kindly, And heartily, and louingly, as you ſhould, And looſe not the begining of a terme, Or, by this hand, I ſhall grow factious too, And, take my part, and quit you. 'T is his fault, He euer murmures, and obiects his paines, And ſayes, the weight of all lyes vpon him. Yes, but they are not equall. Why, if your part exceed to day, I hope Ours may, to morrow, match it. I, they may. May, murmuring maſtiffe? I, and doe. Death on me! Helpe me to thrattell him. DOROTHEE, miſtris DOROTHEE, O'ds preciuos, I'll doe anything. What doe you meane? Becauſe o'your fermentation, and cibation? Not I, by heauen— Your Sol, and Luna—helpe me. Would I were hang'd then. I'll conforme my ſelfe. Will you, ſir, doe ſo then, and quickly: ſweare. What ſhould I ſweare? To leaue your faction, ſir. And labour, kindly, in the commune worke. Let me not breath, if I meant ought, beſide. I onely vs'd thoſe ſpeeches, as a ſpurre To him. I hope we need no ſpurres, ſir. Doe we? 'Slid, proue to day, who shall sharke best. Agreed. Yes, and worke close, and friendly. 'Slight, the knot Shall grow the stronger, for this breach, with me.