Jonson, Ben · published 1620 · first performed or written 1609 (Annals) comedy · Children of the Queen's Revels T3 Sickness, physic and doctors typicality 0.76 · 492 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T3: doctor, master, cure, disease, pray, physic, physician, mr, sick, lady.
Besides, Ladies should be mindful of the approach of age, and let no time want his due use. The best of our days pass first. We are Rivers, that cannot be called back, madam: she that now excludes her Lovers, may live to lie a forsaken Beldame, in a frozen Bed. 'Tis true, Mavis: and who will wait on us to coach then? or write, or tell us the news then? Make Anagrams of our names, and invite us to the Cockpit, and kiss our hands all the Playtime, and draw their weapons for our honours? Not one. Nay, my Mistress is not altogether unintelligent of these things; here be in presence have tasted of her favours. What a neighing Hobby-horse is this! But not with intent to boast 'em again, Servant. And have you those excellent receipts, madam, to keep yourselves from bearing of Children? now to comfort a poor Gentlewoman? Ay me! what fortune had I to marry a distracted man? I'll tell you, Mistress— How rarely she holds it up! What mean you, Gentlemen? What will you tell me, Servant? The Disease in Greek, is called Mayia, in Latin, Insania, Furor, vel Ecstasis melancholica, that is, Egressio, when a man ex melancholico, evadit fanaticus. Shall I have a Lecture read upon me alive? But he may be but Phreneticus, yet, Mistress? and Phrenetis is only delirium, or so— ay, that is for the Disease, Servant: but what is this to the cure? we are sure enough of the Disease. Let me go. Why, we'll entreat her to hold her peace, Sir. O, no. Labour not to stop her. she is like a Conduit-pipe, that will gush out with more force, when she opens again. I'll tell you, Morose, you must talk Divinity to her altogether, or moral Philosophy. ay, and there's an excellent Book of moral Philosophy, madam, of Raynard the Fox, and all the Beasts, called Dones Philosophy. There is, indeed, Sir Amorous La-Foole. O misery! I have read it, my Lady Centaur, all over to my Cousin, hers. ay, and 'tis a very good Book as any is, of the Moderns. Tut, he must have Seneca read to him, and Plutarch, and the Ancients; the Moderns are not for this Disease. Why, you discommended them too, today, Sir Iohn ay, in some Cases: but in these they are best, and Aristotle's Ethics. Say you so, Sir Iohn? I think you are deceived: you took it upon trust. Where's Trusty, my woman? I'll end this difference. I pray thee, Otter, call her. Her Father and Mother were both mad, when they put her to me. I think so. Nay, Gentlemen, I am tame. This is but an exercise, I know a Marriage Ceremony, which I must endure. And one of 'em (I know not which) was cured with the sick-man's Salve; and the other with Greene's Groatsworth of wit. A very cheap Cure, madam. ay, it's very feasible.
Other edition — placed after the fit, excluded from the main statistics
Position
nodes 710–743 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 32 of 52 in this edition
Length
492 words · 716 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T3 — Sickness, physic and doctorscross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.763 (cosine to the topic centroid) · placed after the fit (approximate_predict), not counted in the topic statistics
Other seeds
seed 43: T3 · seed 44: T4 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Beſides, Ladies ſhould bee mindfull of the approch of age, and let no time want his due vſe. The beſt of our dayes paſſe firſt. We are Riuers, that cannot bee call'd backe, Madame: ſhee that now excludes her Louers, may liue to lye a forſaken Beldame, in a frozen Bed. 'Tis true, Mauis: and who will wait on vs to coach then? or write, or tell vs the newes then? Make Anagrams of our names, and inuite vs to the Cock-pit, and kiſſe our hands all the Play-time, and draw their weapons for our honours? Not one. Nay, my Miſtris is not altogether vn-intelligent of theſe things; here bee in preſence haue taſted of her fauours. What a neighing Hobby-horſe is this! But not with intent to boaſt 'hem againe, Seruant. And haue you thoſe excellent Receits, Madame, to keepe your ſelues from bearing of Children? now to comfort a poore Gentlewoman? Ay me! what fortune had I to marrie a diſtracted man? I'll tell you, Miſtris— How rarely ſhee holds it vp! What meane you, Gentlemen? What will you tell me, Seruant? The Diſeaſe in Greeke, is called Mayia, in Latine, Inſania, Furor, vel Ecſtaſis melancholica, that is, Egreſſio, when a man ex melancholico, euadit fanaticus. Shall I haue a Lecture read vpon me aliue? But he may be but Phreneticus, yet, Miſtris? and Phrenetis is only delirium, or ſo— I, that is for the Diſeaſe, Seruant: but what is this to the cure? we are ſure enough of the Diſeaſe. Let me goe. Why, wee'll intreat her to hold her peace, Sir. O, no. Labour not to ſtop her. Shee is like a Conduit-pipe, that will guſh out with more force, when ſhee opens againe. I'll tell you, Moroſe, you muſt talke Diuinitie to her altogether, or morall Philoſophy. I, and there's an excellent Booke of morall Philoſophy, Madame, of Raynard the Foxe, and all the Beaſts, call'd Dones Philoſophy. There is, indeed, Sir Amorous La-Foole. O miſery! I haue read it, my Lady Centaure, all ouer to my Couſin, hers. I, and 'tis a very good Booke as any is, of the Modernes. Tut, he muſt haue Seneca read to him, and Plutarch, and the Ancients; the Modernes are not for this Diſeaſe. Why, you diſcommended them too, to day, Sir Iohn I, in ſome Caſes: but in theſe they are beſt, and Ariſtotles Ethicks. Say you ſo, Sir Iohn? I thinke you are decelu'd: you tooke it vpon truſt. Where's Trusty, my woman? I'll end this difference. I pr'y thee, Otter, call her. Her Father and Mother were both mad, when they put her to mee. I thinke ſo. Nay, Gentlemen, I am tame. This is but an exerciſe, I know a Marriage Ceremonie, which I muſt endure. And one of 'hem (I know not which) was cur'd with the Sick-mans Salue; and the other with Greens Groats-worth of wit. A very cheape Cure, Madame. I, it's very faeſible.