Technogamia, or The Marriages of the Arts · chunk 44 of 64
Holyday, Barten · published 1618 · first performed or written 1618 [Feb 13] (Annals) comedy · at University unassigned nearest T46 Swords, quarrels and valour · 482 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T46: rapier, sword, fight, gentlemen, gentleman, kicked, kill, dagger, signor, valour.
Of us? ay, of you; but especially of Cheiromantes. Of me? what? Nothing, but that you are a Cutpurse. I defy mine accusers, and I call honesty itself to witness, that I get my living by my finger's ends. Come, come, leave these protestations: a bad cause is better defended by silence, than argument. Faith 'tis true; let us be friends: and since thy Master Medicus has taught thee to Kill, we'll teach thee to Steal: but honestly, Sanguis, honestly. We three will set upon the next man we meet. I would 'twere Choler that broke my head tother day: o' that condition, I'd stay; but my Master has sent me to Magus. I must begone. Nay, stay a little longer now, Sanguis: who comes yonder? do you know his Face? Well, you woe will help me? My Hand shall be always ready to help my friend. Choler, I'm Sanguis, and here's my head. Sanguis, I'm Choler and here's my hand. How? three against one? Hercules himself could not fight with such disadvantage: there's no ingenuity in this; I'll take his part for pity-sake at adventure, be it right or wrong. O my nose, my nose— I'll make you too Sanguis cry your Bloody nose before I ha' done. O my hand! my hand! O you rogue, you bow it quite double almost. Why men, beasts, furies, what do you mean? Choler, Choler, draw thy knife, and flit Physiognomus his nose. Ah you dull rogue, do you kick? Oh, Phlegmatico! thou'rt welcome; but prithee throw away thy pipe; unless 'twere one could make them dance after it, and so cool their fury. Why, ho! Orpheus, they say, by music held beasts by the ears; let Musica then hold the beastly furies of you, that are now by the ears. Why, ho! He has picked my pocket. Sirrah, Cheiromantes, you rogue, where's my handkercher? Nay, give him his handkercher, I saw you take it: there, there is thy handkercher, Melancholico: why I thought thou hadst been no fighter. i'faith, ingenuity made me fight, when I saw three upon one. Come, come, for shame, be friends; you shall all be friends before you part. Nay, I'm angry with nobody: I did but fight, to make them leave fighting. Nor we; for the quarrel was not ours. Nor we; for the quarrel was not ours. I thought 'twas Choler, and Sanguis, they still are provoking one another: What hast thou in thy bottle, Musica? Nepenthe to reconcile the Gods? i'faith here's drink to reconcile these furies, if they will? Come, Musica, do you begin, and we'll all dance after thy pipe. You have spoke truer than you think, for there is a Piper coming after me, and somebody else; they'll be here anon: well, here's to you all then. Phlegmatico, here's to thee. Sanguis, here's to thee. Choler, here's to thee. Cheiromantes, have at you.
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)
Of vs? I, of you; but eſpecially of Cheiromantes. Of me? what? Nothing, but that you are a Cut-purſe. I defie mine accuſers, and I call honeſtie it ſelfe to witneſſe, that I get my liuing by my fingers ends. Come, come, leaue theſe proteſtations: a bad cauſe is better defended by ſilence, then argument. Faith 'tis true; let vs be friends: and ſince thy Maſter Medicus has taught thee to Kill, wee'll teach thee to Steale: but honeſtly, Sanguis, honeſtly. We three will ſet vpon the next man we meet. I would 'twere Choler that broke my head t'other day: o' that condition, I'd ſtay; but my Maſter has ſent me to Magus. I muſt begone. Nay, ſtay a little longer now, Sanguis: who comes yonder? doe you know his Face? Well, you wo vvill helpe me? My Hand ſhal be alwaies readie to help my friend. Choler, I'me Sanguis, and here's my head. Sanguis, I'm Choler and here's my hand. How? three againſt one? Hercules himſelfe could not fight with ſuch diſaduantage: there's no ingenuitie in this; Ile take his part for pittie-ſake at auenture, be it right or wrong. O my noſe, my noſe— Ile make you too Sanguis crie your Bloodie noſe before I ha' done. O my hand! my hand! O you rogue, you bow it quite double almoſt. Why men, beaſts, furies, what doe you meane? Choler, Choler, draw thy knife, and flit Phyſiognomus his noſe. Ah you dull rogue, doe you kicke? Oh, Phlegmatico! thou'rt welcome; but prethee throw away thy pipe; vnleſſe 'twere one could make them dance after it, and ſo coole their furie. Why, ho! Orpheus, they ſay, by muſike held beaſts by the eares; let Muſica then hold the beaſtly furies of you, that are now by the eares. Why, ho! He has pickt my pocket. Sirrah, Cheiromantes, you rogue, where's my hand-kercher? Nay, giue him his hand-kercher, I ſaw you take it: there, there is thy hand-kercher, Melancholico: why I thought thou hadſt beene no fighter. 'Faith, ingenuitie made me fight, when I ſaw three vpon one. Come, come, for ſhame, be friends; you ſhall all be friends before you part. Nay, I'm angrie with no body: I did but fight, to make them leaue fighting. Nor we; for the quarrell was not ours. Nor we; for the quarrell was not ours. I thought 'twas Choler, and Sanguis, they ſtill are prouoking one another: What haſt thou in thy bottle, Muſica? Nepenthe to reconcile the Gods? 'Faith here's drinke to reconcile theſe furies, if they will? Come, Muſica, doe you beginne, and wee'll all dance after thy pipe. You haue ſpoke truer then you thinke, for there is a Piper comming after me, and ſomebody elſe; they'll be here anon: well, here's to you all then. Phlegmatico, here's to thee. Sanguis, here's to thee. Choler, here's to thee. Cheiromantes, haue at you.