Hans Beer-Pot (See Me and See Me Not) · chunk 22 of 26
Belchier, Dabridgcourt · published 1618 · first performed or written 1618 (Annals) comedy unassigned nearest T44 Drinking: wine, ale and taverns · 482 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T44: drink, wine, numps, ale, butler, pot, sing, moy, drunk, win.
O here he is, his guts they are so stuffed, With his fat liquour he can scarcely run. Scarce run, scarce go, this barreled Sturgeon Is out of breath, his grease begins to melt. Mock on my Gallants, see what will come on't, A shame on Lurchers, you have killed me up. I ran so fast, ere I could o'ertake you. A child of two year old would run as fast. Then I'll be hanged, good sir, how can that run? That doth but dead, can hardly go or stand. Where's Pasquill is he gone? he's there by this? I saw him at the Ports, that Gentleman Is at's two men; takes boat, sits down at ease, And takes Tobacco, while they row him on, He keeps a bottle just betwixt his legs, Drinks when he list, and so he sets it down. Would I were with him in such equipage; Or he were here, for I am almost choked. Why, how Flutterkin, at your brandwine? I pray thee give me some. Not the least drop. Were you a thousand Merchants; Or Younkers not a drop, Think you I'll die For want of wholesome drink? als out, see there: So now I am well, can walk a mile or two, As rustic as a Boor, and near complain. My fathers yonder, he comes here to meet's. So nigh already; Oh, I see the house; I smell the Kitchen, see the chimneys smoke. Come Sergeant; put the better leg before; You shall speak first, if well, I'll second you. Thanks good mine Host, your wit would help me much For good conceits your wholesome guts have hatched, When sod in sack, your brains begin to flow. Out from the horror of infernal deeps; Pass forwards on; for I must stay behind: Some small occasion bids me stand aside. Its' well your come, for I did think you long: And that you had forgot to keep your words. I bid you welcome to my Country farm; Take that for all, I'll use no ceremony. I'll warrant you sir, we did not mean to fail, To stay at home, and miss so good a feast, 'Tis Christmas now, It comes but once a year; And when it comes, men say, it brings good cheer. Here's Flutterkin takes leisure, comes behind; Good man he sweats, his guts keep him so warm. But fear of fainting by the high way side, He hath provided to preserve his health; brandwine a creuse, which he drinks out himself. I hear you Sergeant, I can bear your mocks: You never knew fat men but honest yet; A good companion, full of mirth and wit; Lean jades cast off, lie starving in a ditch; When plumper steeds are esteemed among the rich. Are you so nigh, I thought you had been lost: By your leave sir; I'll welcome here mine Host.
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)
O here he is, his guts they are ſo ſtuft, With his fat liquor he can ſcarcely runne. Scarce runne, ſcarce goe, this barreld Sturgeon Is out of breath, his greace begins to melt. Mocke on my Gallants, ſee what will come on't, A ſhame on Lurchers, you haue kilde me vp. I ranne ſo faſt, ere I could oretake you. A child of two yeare old would runne as faſt. Then Ile be hang'd, good ſir, how can that runne? That doth but dade, can hardly goe or ſtand. Wheres Paſquill is he gone? Hee's there by this? I ſaw him at the Ports, that Gentleman Is ats two men; takes boate, ſits downe at eaſe, And takes Tobacco, while they row him on, He keepes a bottle iuſt betwixt his legges, Drinkes when he liſt, and ſo he ſets it downe. Would I were with him in ſuch aequipage; Or he were here, for I am almoſt choak't. Why, how Flutterkin, at your Brande-wine? I pray thee giue me ſome. Not the leaſt droppe. Were you a thouſand Merchants; Or Younkers not a droppe, Thinke you Ile dye For want of wholeſome drinke? al's out, ſee there: So now I am well, can walke a mile or two, As luſtique as a Boore, and neere complaine. My fathers yonder, he comes here to meet's. So nigh already; Oh, I ſee the houſe; I ſmell the Kitchen, ſee the Chimneis ſmoake. Come Serieant; put the better legge before; You ſhall ſpeake firſt, if well, Ile ſecond you. Thanks good mine Hoſt, your wit would help me much For good conceites your wholeſome guts haue hatcht, When ſodde in ſacke, your braines beginne to flow. Out from the horrour of infernall deepes; Paſſe forwards on; for I muſt ſtay behind: Some ſmall occaſion biddes me ſtand aſide. Its' well your come, for I did thinke you long: And that you had forgot to keepe your words. I bid you welcome to my Country farme; Take that for all, Ile vſe no ceremonie. Ile warrant you ſir, we did not meane to fayle, To ſtay at home, and miſſe ſo good a feaſt, Ti's Chriſtmas now, It comes but once a yeare; And when it comes, men ſay, it brings good cheare. Here's Flutterkin takes leyſure, comes behind; Good man he ſweates, his guts keepe him ſo warme. But feare of fainting by the high way ſide, He hath prouided to preſerue his health; Brande-Wine a creuſe, which he drinks out himſelfe. I heare you Serieant, I can beare your mocks: You neuer knew fat men but honeſt yet; A good companion, full of mirth and wit; Leane iades caſt off, lye ſtaruing in a ditch; When plumper ſteeds are ſteemde among the rich. Are you ſo nigh, I thought you had been loſt: By your leaue ſir; Ile welcome here mine Hoaſt.