Dekker, Thomas / Massinger, Philip · published 1622 · first performed or written 1620 [licensed for stage, Oct 6; revised and re-licensed for stage, Jul 7, 1624] (Annals) tragedy · Red Bull (Revels) Company (first) unassigned nearest T47 Knaves, thieves and bawds · 471 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T47: knave, rogue, money, knaves, thief, rogues, pray, whore, nichol, book.
Pity that ere thou trodst thy shoe awry. Long I cannot last, for all sowterly wax of comfort melting away, and misery taking the length of my foot, it boots not me to sue for life when all my hopes are seam. rent, and go wet-shod. This shows th'at ta cobbler's son by going through stirch: O Hircius would thou & I were so happy to be cobblers So would I, for both of us being now weary of our lives, should then be sure of shoemakers ends. I see the beginning of my end for I am almost starved. So am not I, but I am more than famished. All the members of my body are in rebellion one against another. So are mine, and nothing but a cook being a constable can appease them, presenting to my nose, instead of his painted staff, a spitful of roast-meat. But in this rebellion, what uproars do they make, my belly cries to my mouth, why dost not gape & feed me And my mouth sets out a throat to my hand why dost not thou lift up meat and cram my chops with it. Then my hand hath a fling at mine eyes, because they look not out and shark for victuals. Which mine eyes seeing, full of tears, cry aloud, and curse my feet for not ambling up and down to feed Colon, sithence if good meat be in any place, 'tis known my feet can smell. But then my feet like lazy rogues lie still, and had rather do nothing, then run to and fro, to purchase anything Why 'mong so many millions of people, should thou and I only be miserable tatterdemalions, ragamuffins, and lousy desperates. Thou art a mere I am-an-o, I am-an-as, consider the whole world, and 'tis as we are. Lousy, beggarly, thou whoreson Assa Faetida. Worse, all totterings, all out of frame, thou Fooliamini As how arsenic: come make the world smart. Old Honour goes on crutches, beggary rides caroched, honest men make feasts, knaves sit at tables, cowards are laptin velvet, soldiers (as we) in rags: Beauty turns Whore; Whore Bawd; and both die of the pox: why then when all the world stumbles, should thou and I walk upright? Stop, look who's yonder. Fellow Angelo! how does my little man? well. Yes, and would you did so, where are your clothes? Clothes! you see every woman almost go in her loose gown, and why should not we have our clothes lose? Would they were loose. Why where are they? Where many a velvet cloak I warrant at this hour keeps them company, they are pawned to a Broker. Why pawned, where's all the gold I left with you? The gold! we put that into a scrivener's hands, and he has cozened us.
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)
Pitty that ere thou trodst thy shooe awry. Long I cannot last, for all sowterly waxe of comfort melting away, and misery taking the length of my foote, it bootes not me to sue for life when all my hopes are seame. rent, and go wetshod. This shews th'at ta Coblers son by going through stirch: O Hircius wud thou & I were so happy to be coblers So would I, for both of vs being now wearie of our liues, should then be sure of shoomakers ends. I see the beginning of my ende for I am almost staru'd. So am not I, but I am more then famishd. All the members of my bodie are in rebellion one against another. So are mine, and nothing but a cooke being a constable can appease them, presenting to my nose, instead of his painted staffe, a spitfull of rost-meate. But in this rebellion, what vprores do they make, my belly cries to my mouth, why dost not gape & feed me And my mouth sets out a throate to my hand why dost not thou lift vp meate and cramme my choppes with it. Then my hand hath a fling at mine eyes, because they looke not out and sharke for victuals. Which mine eyes seeing, full of teares, crie alowd, and curse my feet for not ambling vp and downe to feede Colon, sithence if good meate be in any place, tis knowne my feet can smell. But then my feet like lazie rogues lie still, and had rather do nothing, then run to and fro, to purchase anything Why mong so many millions of people, should thou and I onely bee miserable totterdemalions, rag-amuffins, and lowsie desperates. Thou art a meere I am-an-o, I am-an-as, consider the whole world, and tis as we are. Lowsie, beggerly, thou whorson Assa Faetida. Worse, al tottrings, al out of frame, thou Fooliamini As how arsnicke: come make the world smart. Old Honor goes on crutches, beggry rides caroched, honest men make feastes, knaues sit at tables, cowards are laptin veluet, souldiers (as wee) in ragges: Beautie turnes Whore; Whore Bawd; and both dye of the poxe: why then when all the world stumbles, should thou and I walke vpright? Stop, looke who's yonder. Fellow Angelo! how does my little man? well. Yes, and would you did so, where are your clothes? Clothes! you see euery woman almost goe in her loose gowne, and why should not wee haue our clothes loose? Wud they were loose. Why where are they? Where many a veluet cloke I warrant at this houre keepes them company, they are pawnd to a Broker. Why pawnd, where's all the gold I left with you? The gold! we put that into a Scriueners hands, and he has cousend vs.