Technogamia, or The Marriages of the Arts · chunk 46 of 64
Holyday, Barten · published 1618 · first performed or written 1618 [Feb 13] (Annals) comedy · at University unassigned nearest T44 Drinking: wine, ale and taverns · 484 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T44: drink, wine, numps, ale, butler, pot, sing, moy, drunk, win.
i'faith you shan't go yet; what have you in your pack? What's that to you? prithee, Musica, tell me, what thou hast in thy pack? Why, because you speak kindly now, and entreat me, I'll show you. Hay, brave! what's here? Morris-bells? And waistcoats, and napkins? Why, how cam'st thou by them? Why, thus: my Mistress had been ill a good while, and because I tended her very carefully; she gave me leave to recreate myself today; and i'faith I light on merry company, where they used these jinglers: and when they had done, they prayed me to carry them home with this bottle of drink. Faith, and there were enough, we'd dance. Enough? now I think on't, there's just enough, there's six pair. Faith we'll to it then, but what wouldst thou do, Musica? Why, I'll play the maid Marian. A match, a match: dress, dress, we'll have brave jingling. I can't dance. Nay, prithee be not sullen, good Melancholico. If I do, I'll wear no bells. Why then lay one pair aside. But I won't dance now. Why, Melancholico? I won't dance, unless I have one of the wrought waistcoats. Why, now they have put them on. I care not, I won't dance else. Come prithee, Cheiromantes, slip off thine again and change with him; Melancholico must have his sullen humours. So, now we want nothing but the Tabor we talked of: but 'tis no matter, since he does not come, we'll sing, and so make music to ourselves. Who can tune the morris best? Oh, here they are both, here they are both. O my arm, my arm! O my shin! Ah, murrain on him; who the devil's this? I have hurt my breast. O the side of my face! A rope on you, must you throw me quite down? Prithee dance the morris quietly with us: up, up, ho, and we'll dance. A murrain go with you— Musica, who played in the hobby-horse? No, I must not tell. Come then, we'll go now to Barleibreak. ay but there's one odd: what shall he do? sit out every time? Yes faith, and give a reason of the other three couples meeting. Agreed: run. A murrain on't, must I be the first man must sit out? nothing angers me but that. Nay Choler, thou'lt fret and chafe now— Come Choler, your reasons. Why, thou and Musica are met together— because— Sanguine folks are most fit for Music and sports. Physiognomus and Chieromantes met, because they feared we would have suspected they would have picked our pockets, if they had joined with any of us— We thank you Choler, we shall be even with you, and't come to our turn. Melancholico, and Phlegmatico joined; because one's too dry; and the other's too moist: and so they'll serve for Medicines one for another: come run again: I'll be sure to catch somebody this time.
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)
'Faith you ſhan't goe yet; what haue you in your packe? What's that to you? Prethec, Muſica, tell mee, what thou haſt in thy packe? Why, becauſe you ſpeake kindly now, and intreat me, Ile ſhew you. Hay, braue! what's here? Morrice-bels? And waſte-coates, and napkins? Why, how cam'ſt thou by them? Why, thus: my Miſtris had beene ill a good while, and becauſe I tended her very carefully; ſhee gaue mee leaue to recreate my ſelfe to day; and i'faith I light on merry companie, where they vs'd theſe jinglers: and when they had done, they pray'd mee to carrie them home with this bottle of drinke. Faith, and there were enow, wee'd dance. Enow? now I thinke on't, there's iuſt enow, there's ſixe paire. Faith wee'll to it then, but what wouldſt thou doe, Muſica? Why, Ile play the maid Marian. A match, a match: dreſſe, dreſſe, wee'll haue braue jingling. I can't dance. Nay, prethee be not ſullen, good Melancholico. If I doe, Ile weare no bels. Why then lay one paire aſide. But I woun't dance now. Why, Melancholico? I woun't dance, vnleſſe I haue one of the wrought waſte-coates. Why, now they haue put them on. I care not, I woun't dance elſe. Come prethee, Cheiromantes, ſlip off thine againe and change with him; Melancholico muſt haue his ſullen humours. So, now vve want nothing but the Tabor wee talk't of: but 'tis no matter, ſince he does not come, wee'll ſing, and ſo make muſike to our ſelues. Who can tune the Morrice beſt? Oh, here they are both, here they are both. O my arme, my arme! O my ſhinne! Ah, murren on him; who the deuill's this? I haue hurt my breſt. O the ſide of my face! A rope on you, muſt you throw me quite downe? Prethee dance the morrice quietly with vs: vp, vp, ho, and wee'll dance. A murren goe with you—Muſica, who play'd in the hobby-horſe? No, I muſt not tell. Come then, wee'l goe now to Barly-breake. I but there's one odde: what ſhall he doe? ſit out euery time? Yes faith, and giue a reaſon of the other three couples meeting. Agreed: runne. A murren on't, muſt I be the firſt man muſt ſit out? nothing angers me but that. Nay Choler, thou't fret and chafe now — Come Choler, your reaſons. Why, thou and Muſica are met together—becauſe—Sanguine folkes are moſt fit for Muſicke and ſports. Phyſiognomus and Chieromantes met, becauſe they fear'd wee would haue ſuſpected they would haue pickt our pockets, if they had ioynd with any of vs— We thanke you Choler, wee ſhall be euen with you, and't come to our turne. Melancholico, and Phlegmatico ioyn'd; becauſe one's too dry; and the other's too moiſt: and ſo they'l ſerue for Medicines one for another: come runne againe: Ile be ſure to catch ſome bodie this time.