Jonson, Ben · published 1616 · first performed or written 1610 (Annals) comedy · King's Men unassigned nearest T39 Profit, conscience and dishonest dealing · 508 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T39: conscience, lucre, usury, lucar, fraud, dissimulation, simony, london, lady, nemo.
But how long time, Sir, must the Saints expect, yet? Let me see, How's the moon, now? Eight, nine, ten days hence He will be silver potate; then, three days, Before he citronise: some fifteen days, The Magisterium will be perfected. About the second day, of the third week, In the ninth month? Yes, my good ANANIAS. What will the orphans goods arise to, think you? Some hundred marks; as much as filled three cars, Unloaded now: you'll make six millions of 'em. But I must ha' more coals laid in. How! Another load, And then we ha' finished. We must now increase Our fire to ignis Arden's, we are passed Fimus equinus, Balnei, Cineris, And all those lenter heats. If the holy purse Should, with this draft, fall low, and that the Saints Do need a present sum, I have trick To melt the pewter, you shall buy now, instantly, And, with a tincture, make you as good Dutch dollers, As any are in Holland. Can you so? ay, and shall bide the third examination. It will be joyful tidings to the Brethren. But you must carry it, secret. ay, but stay, This act of coining, is it lawful? Lawful? We know no Magistrate. Or, if we did, This's foreign coin. It is no coining, sir. It is but casting. Ha? you distinguish well. Casting of money may be lawful. 'Tis, sir. Truly, I take it so. There is no scruple, Sir, to be made of it; believe ANANIAS: This case of conscience he is studied in. I'll make a question of it, to the Brethren. The Brethren shall approve it lawful, doubt not. Where shall't be done? For that we'll talk, anon. There's some to speak with me. Go in, I pray you, And view the parcels. That's the inventory. I'll come to you straight. Who is it? FACE! Appear. HOw now? Good prize? Good pox! Yonder caustive cheater Never came on. How then? I ha' walked the round, Till now, and no such thing. And ha' you quit him? Quit him? and hell would quit him too, he were happy. 'Slight would you have me stalk like a mill-jade. All day, for one, that will not yield us grains? I know him of old. O, but to ha' gulled him, Had been a mastery. Let him go, black Boy, And turn thee, that some fresh news may possess thee. A noble Count, a Don of Spain (my dear Delicious compear, and my party-bawd) Who is come hither, private, for his conscience, And brought munition with him, six great slops, Bigger than three Dutch hoys, beside round trunks, Furnished with pistolets, and pieces of eight, Will straight be here, my rogue, to have thy bath (That is the colour,) and to make his battery Upon our DOL, our Castle, our cinqueport, Our Dover pire, our what thou wilt. Where is she? She must prepare perfumes, delicate linen, The bath in chief, a banquet, and her wit, For she must milk his Epididimis. Where is the Doxy?
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: T39 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
But how long time, Sir, must the Saints expect, yet? Let me see, How's the moone, now? Eight, nine, ten dayes hence He will be siluer potate; then, three dayes, Before he citronise: some fifteene dayes, The Magisterium will be perfected. About the second day, of the third weeke, In the ninth month? Yes, my good ANANIAS. What will the orphanes goods arise to, thinke you? Some hundred markes; as much as fill'd three carres, Vnladed now: you'll make sixe millions of 'hem. But I must ha' more coales laid in. How! Another load, And then we ha' finish'd. We must now encrease Our fire to ignis ardens, we are past Fimus equinus, Balnei, Cineris, And all those lenter heats. If the holy purse Should, with this draught, fall low, and that the Saints Doe need a present summe, I haue trick To melt the pewter, you all buy now, instantly, And, with a tincture, you as good Dutch dollers, As any are in Holland. Can you so? I, and shall bide the third examination. It will be ioyfull tidings to the Brethren. But you must carry it, secret. I, but stay, This act of coyning, is it lawfull? Lawfull? We know no Magistrate. Or, if we did, This's forraine coyne. It is no coyning, sir. It is but casting. Ha? you distinguish well. Casting of money may be lawfull. 'Tis, sir. Truely, I take it so. There is no scruple, Sir, to be made of it; beleeue ANANIAS: This case of conscience he is studied in. I'll make a question of it, to the Brethren. The Brethren shall approue it lawfull, doubt not. Where shall't be done? For that wee'll talke, anone. There's some to speake with me. Goe in, I pray you, And view the parcells. That's the inuentorie. I'll come to you straight. Who is it? FACE! Appeare. HOw now? Good prise? Good poxe! Yond' caustiue cheater Neuer came on. How then? I ha' walk'd the round, Till now, and no such thing. And ha' you quit him? Quit him? and hell would quit him too, he were happy. 'Slight would you haue me stalke like a mill-iade. All day, for one, that will not yeeld vs graines? I know him of old. O, but to ha' gull'd him, Had beene a maistry. Let him goe, black Boy, And turne thee, that some fresh newes may possesse thee. A noble Count, a Don of Spaine (my deare Delicious compeere, and my partie-bawd) Who is come hether, priuate, for his conscience, And brought munition with him, sixe great slopps, Bigger then three Dutch hoighs, beside round trunkes, Furnish'd with pistolets, and pieces of eight, Will straight be here, my rogue, to haue thy bath (That is the colour,) and to make his battry Vpon our DOL, our Castle, our cinque-Port, Our Douer pire, our what thou wilt. Where is shee? Shee must prepare perfumes, delicate linnen, The bath in chiefe, a banquet, and her wit, For shee must milke his Epididimis. Where is the Doxie?