Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T41: master, house, door, iohn, old, mistress, basket, lord, gentleman, ick.
Back sirs, so: I told you afore ye 〈◊〉 be shent. She shall have the first day a whole peck of argent. A peck? Nomine patris, have ye so much spare? Yea and a cart load thereto, or else were it bare, Besides other movables, household stuff and 〈◊〉. Have ye lads too. An hundred marks. Yea a thousand And have ye cattle too? and sheep too? Yea a few. He is ashamed the numbered of them to show. e'en round about him, as many thousand sheep goes, As he and thou and I too, have fingers and toes. And how many years old be you? forty at lest. Yea and thrice forty to them. Nay now thou dost jest. I am not so old, thou misreckonest my years. I know that: but my mind was on bullocks and steers. And what shall I show her your mastership's name is? Nay she shall make sure ere she know that iwis. Yet let me somewhat know. This is he understand, That killed the blue Spider in Blanchpowder land. Yea Iesus, William zee law, did he zo law? Yea and the last Elephant that ever he saw, As the beast passed by, he start out of a busk, And e'en with pure strength of arms plucked out his great tusk. Iesus, nomine patris, what a thing was that? Yea but Merrygreek one thing thou hast forgot. What? Of tother Elephant. Oh him that fled away. Yea. Yea he knew that his match was in place that day Tut, he bet the king of Crickets on Christmas day, That he crept in a hole, and not a word to say. A sore man by 〈◊〉. Why, he wrong a club Once in a fray out of the hand of Belzebub. And how when Mumfision? Oh your coustreling Bore the lantern a field so before the gosling. Nay that is to long a matter now to be told: Never ask his name Nurse, I warrant thee, be bold, He conquered in one day from Rome, to Naples, And won towns nurse as fast as thou canst make Apples. O Lord, my heart quaketh for fear: he is to sore. Thou makest her to much afeard, Merrygreek no more. This tale would fear my sweet heart Custance right evil. Nay let her take him Nurse, and fear not the devil. But thus is our song dashed. Sirs ye may home again. No shall they not. I charge you all here to remain: The villain slaves a whole day ere they can be found. Couch on your marybones whoresons, down to the ground. Was it meet he should tarry so long in one place Without harmony of Music, 〈◊〉 some 〈◊〉? Who so hath such bees as your master in his head, Had need to have his spirits with Music to be fed. By your masterships licence. What is that? a moat? No it was a fools feather had light on your coat.
seed 43: T27 · seed 44: T21 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Backe sirs, so: I tolde you afore ye be shent. She shall haue the first day a whole pecke of argent. A pecke? Nomine patris, haue ye so muc spare? Yea and a carte lode therto, or else were it bare, Besides other mouables, housholde stuffe and . Haue ye lads too. An hundred marks. Yea a thousand And haue ye cattell too? and sheepe too? Yea a fewe. He is ashamed the numbre of them to shewe. Een rounde about him, as many thousande sheepe goes, As he and thou and I too, haue fingers and toes. And how many yeares olde be you? Fortie at lest. Yea and thrice fortie to them. Nay now thou dost iest. I am not so olde, thou misreckonest my yeares. I know that: but my minde was on bullockes and steeres. And what shall I shewe hir your masterships name is? Nay she shall make sue ere she know that ywis. Yet let me somewhat knowe. This is hee vnderstand, That killed the blewe Spider in Blanchepouder lande. Yea Iesus, William zee law, dyd he zo law? Yea and the last Elephant that euer he sawe, As the beast passed by, he start out of a buske, And een with pure strength of armes pluckt out his great tuske. Iesus, nomine patris, what a thing was that? Yea but Merygreke one thing thou hast forgot. What? Of thother Elephant. Oh hym that fledde away. Yea. Yea he knew that his match was in place that day Tut, he bet the king of Crickets on Christmasse day, That he crept in a hole, and not a worde to say. A sore man by . Why, he wrong a club Once in a fray out of the hande of Belzebub. And how when Mumfision? Oh your coustrelyng Bore the lanterne a fielde so before the gozelyng. Nay that is to long a matter now to be tolde: Neuer aske his name Nurse, I warrant thee, be bolde, He conquered in one day from Rome, to Naples, And woonne Townes nourse as fast as thou canst make Apples. O Lorde, my heart quaketh for feare: he is to sore. Thou makest hir to much afearde, Merygreeke no more. This tale woulde feare my sweete heart Custance right euill. Nay let hir take him Nurse, and feare not the deuill. But thus is our song dasht. Sirs ye may home againe. No shall they not. I charge you all here to remaine: The villaine slaues a whole day ere they can be founde. Couche on your marybones whooresons, down to the ground. Was it meete he should tarie so long in one place Without harmonie of Musike, some ? Who so hath suche bees as your maister in hys head, Had neede to haue his spirites with Musike to be fed. By your maisterships licence. What is that? a moate? No it was a fooles feather had light on your coate.