The Two Merry Milkmaids, or The Best Words Wear the Garland · chunk 42 of 54
Cumber, John · published 1620 · first performed or written 1619 [1619-1620] (Annals) comedy · Red Bull (Revels) Company (first) · before the Court T3 Sickness, physic and doctors typicality 0.82 · 504 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T3: doctor, master, cure, disease, pray, physic, physician, mr, sick, lady.
Nor I. Why, nor I, more particular than you. But you must go that answered. Why you may go as well as I that answered. By this Air not I. By this Earth nor I. By this Air, Earth, Fire and Water too, not I: 'zblood I get no more than you, and why should I then? This is very well, suppose my Lord for want of this same Doctor now shall die. Why, what can I help it. (you. Why you may by fetching him. And so may And so may he. And so may you. I care not, nay do as you please. Why, nor I neither. 'Sfoot he shifts his Room, I'll not be seen. By'r Lady Sir nor I. Who went for Lopez? Ferdinand my Lord. Is he not come yet? No my Lord, nor gone yet I believe. Oh, my blood boils, as if the Sun Had darted all his beams into my entrails. Short shot my soul, and like the shaft Shot by great Hercules, fly till thou break'st, Or else, strike through the body of the Sun, And fix thyself in heaven a brighter Star. What shall I do? Is there no power in Physic? Swoons are you dumb, Doctors can you not talk, Though you do nothing else? Alas my Lord; we know not what to say. Why then you might ha' said, that you can say, That you know nothing, but your own Privilege, to kill unpunished; yet are you apt When Nature works herself, to assume it yours. O my torment, when wilt thou cease? get you gone, Impostures as you are, and x people That have faith in you; for I have found No Art, but Voice among you. A way Physicians, go; my Lord thinks ye are fools, And so do I: Therefore begone, begone. Is not the Duke come yet? No my good Lord; but here are the Divines. They are very welcome. How does your Lordship? Wondrous well satisfied in any point touching my salvation: only one burden on my conscience lies, for the Duke himself to take away. The Duke is come. Then all the rest I pray depart the room. How is it man? Cheerful, wondrous cheerful, all this whole day I felt not such a minute. Be comforted good Raymond, methinks I see another age of life yet shine in thee, your eye is quick and sprightly, death doth not show himself in any part. Your grace is a good comforter, and your sight blows up this spark of life to such a light which is but as a twinkling before death. Therefore I do beseech your Majesty, As in this life and after death you'll stand, In history to the last hour of Time, A just religious Prince to which I know, In your own inclination you aspire, Even for the dukedom's peace, O— your pardon: My breath I find will fail me,— your pardon Duke. And quickly speak it; or I shall not hear you.
nodes 2070–2129 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 42 of 54 in this edition
Length
504 words · 648 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T3 — Sickness, physic and doctorscross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.822 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
seed 43: T3 · seed 44: T0 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Nor I. Why, nor I, more particular then you. But you must goe that answered. Why you may goe as well as I that answered. By this Aire not I. By this Earth nor I. By this Aire, Earth, Fire and Water too, not I: zbloud I get no more then you, and why shud I then? This is very well, suppose my Lord for want of this same Doctor now shall die. Why, what can I helpe it. (you. Why you may by fetching him. And so may And so may he. And so may you. I care not, nay do as you please. Why, nor I neither. Zfoote he shifts his Rome, Ile not be seene. Byr Lady Sir nor I. Who went for Lopez? Ferdinand my Lord. Is he not come yet? No my Lord, nor gone yet I beleeue. Oh, my bloud boyles, as if the Sunne Had darted all his beames into my intrailes. Short shot my soule, and like the shaft Shot by great Hercules, flie till thou break'st, Or else, strike through the body of the Sun, And fixe thy selfe in heauen a brighter Starre. What shall I do? Is there no powre in Physicke? Swoones are you dumbe, Doctors can you not talke, Though you do nothing else? Alas my Lord; we know not what to say. Why then you might a said, that you can say, That you know nothing, but your owne Priuiledge, to kill vnpunish'd; yet are you apt When Nature workee her selfe, to assume it yours. O my torment, when wut thou cease? get you gone, Impostures as you are, and cousen people That haue faith in you; for I haue found No Art, but Voice among you. A way Phisitians, go; my Lord thinks ye are fooles, And so do I: Therefore begon, begon. Is not the Duke come yet? No my good Lord; but here are the Diuines. They ase verie welcome. How does your Lordship? Wondrous well satisfied in any point touching my saluation: onely one burden on my conscience lies, for the Duke himselfe to take away. The Duke is come. Then all the rest I pray depart the roome. How is it man? Cheerefull, wondrous cheerefull, all this whole day I felt not such a minute. Be comforted good Raymond, me thinkes I see another age of life yet shine in thee, your eie is quick and sprightly, death doth not shew himselfe in any part. Your grace is a good comforter, and your sight blowes vp this sparke of life to such a light which is but as a twinckling before death. Therefore I do beseech your Maiesty, As in this life and after death you'le stand, In history to the last houre of Time, A iust religious Prince to which I know, In your owne inclination you aspire, Euen for the Dukedomes peace, O—your pardon: My breath I find will faile me,—your pardon Duke. And quickly speake it; or I shall not heare you.