Jonson, Ben · published 1616 · first performed or written 1609 (Annals) comedy · Children of the Queen's Revels unassigned nearest T3 Sickness, physic and doctors · 493 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T3: doctor, master, cure, disease, pray, physic, physician, mr, sick, lady.
My lady called for you, mistress TRUSTY: you must decide a controversy. O TRUSTY, which was it you said, your father, or your mother, that was cured with the Sick-man's salve? My mother, madame, with the salve. Then it was the Sicke-womans' salve. And my father with the Groatsworth of wit. But there was other means used: we had a Preacher that would preach folk asleep still; and so they were prescribed to go to church, by an old woman that was their physician, thrice a week— To sleep? Yes forsooth: and every night they read themselves asleep on those books. Good faith, it stands with great reason. I would I knew where to procure those books. Oh. I can help you with one of 'em, mistress MOROSE, the groatsworth of wit. But I shall disfurnish you, sir AMOROUS: can you spare it? O, yes, for a week, or so; I'll read it myself to him. No, I must do that, sir: that must be my office. Oh, oh! Sure, he would do well enough, if he could sleep. No, I should do well enough, if you could sleep. Have I no friend that will make her drunk? or give her a little laudanum? or opium? Why, sir, she talks ten times worse in her sleep. How! Do you not know that, sir? never ceases all night. And snores like a popoise. O, redeem me, fate, redeem me, fate. For how many causes may a man be divorced, nephew? I know not truly, sir. Some Divine must resolve you in that, sir, or canon-Lawyer. I will not rest, I will not think of any other hope or comfort, till I know. Alas, poor man. You'll make him mad indeed, ladies, if you pursue this. No, we'll let him breath, now, a quarter of an hour, or so. By my faith, a large truce. Is that his keeper, that is gone with him? It is his nephew, madame. Sir DAUPHINE EUGENIE. He looks like a very pitiful knight— As can be. This marriage, has put him out of all. He has not a penny in his purse, madame— He is ready to cry all this day. A very shark, he set me i' the nick other night at primero. How these swabbers talk! I, OTTERS wine has swelled their humours above a springtide. Good MOROSE, let's go in again. I like your couches exceeding well: we'll go lie, and talk there. I wait on you, madame. 'Slight, I will have 'em as silent as Signs, & their posts too, ere I ha' done. Do you hear, lady-bride? I pray thee now, as thou art a noble wench, continue this discourse of DAUPHINE within: but praise him exceedingly. magnify him with all the height of affection thou canst. (I have some purpose in't) and but beat off these two rooks, JACK DAW, and his fellow, with any discontentment hither, and I'll honour thee for ever.
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)
My lady call'd for you, mistris TRVSTY: you must decide a controuersie. O TRVSTY, which was it you said, your father, or your mother, that was cur'd with the Sicke-mans salue? My mother, madame, with the salue. Then it was the Sicke-womans salue. And my father with the Groates-worth of wit. But there was other meanes vs'd: we had a Preacher that would preach folke asleepe still; and so they were prescrib'd to goe to church, by an old woman that was their physitian, thrise a weeke— To sleepe? Yes forsooth: and euery night they read themselues asleepe on those bookes. Good faith, it stands with great reason. I would I knew where to procure those bookes. Oh. I can helpe you with one of 'hem, mistris MOROSE, the groatsworth of wit. But I shall disfurnish you, sir AMOROVS: can you spare it? O, yes, for a weeke, or so; I'll reade it my selfe to him. No, I must doe that, sir: that must be my office. Oh, oh! Sure, he would doe well inough, if he could sleepe. No, I should doe well inough, if you could sleepe. Haue I no friend that will make her drunke? or giue her a little ladanum? or opium? Why, sir, shee talkes ten times worse in her sleepe. How! Doe you not know that, sir? neuer ceases all night. And snores like a porpisce. O, redeeme me, fate, redeeme me, fate. For how many causes may a man be diuorc'd, nephew? I know not truely, sir. Some Diuine must resolue you in that, sir, or canon-Lawyer. I will not rest, I will not thinke of any other hope or comfort, till I know. Alas, poore man. You'll make him mad indeed, ladies, if you pursue this. No, wee'll let him breathe, now, a quarter of an houre, or so. By my faith, a large truce. Is that his keeper, that is gone with him? It is his nephew, madame. Sir DAVPHINE EVGENIE. He lookes like a very pittifull knight— As can be. This marriage, has put him out of all. He has not a penny in his purse, madame— He is readie to crie all this day. A very sharke, he set me i' the nicke t'other night at primero. How these swabbers talke! I, OTTERS wine has swell'd their humours aboue a springtide. Good MOROSE, let's goe in againe. I like your couches exceeding well: wee'll goe lie, and talke there. I wait on you, madame. 'Slight, I wil haue 'hem as silent as Signes, & their posts too, e're I ha' done. Doe you heare, lady-bride? I pray thee now, as thou art a noble wench, continue this discourse of DAVPHINE within: but praise him exceedingly. Magniie him with all the height of affection thou canst. (I haue some purpose in't) and but beate off these two rookes, IACK DAW, and his fellow, with any discontentment hither, and I'll honour thee for euer.