Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T46: rapier, sword, fight, gentlemen, gentleman, kicked, kill, dagger, signor, valour.
A sirrah nay soft, what? let me see, God morrow to you sir, how do you fare? Sante a men. I think it will be. the next day in the morning, before I come there Well forward I will, for to prepare, Some weapons & armour, the caitiffs to quell, I'll teach the hurchetes, again to rebel. Rebel? ye sir, how say you there to? What? you had not best their parts to take: Hold the content fool, and do as I do, Or else me chance, your pate for to ache. Ye and that's more, for fear thou shalt quake, Before Horestes, when in good sooth he, Shall arrive in this land, revenged to be: Well forward I will, things to purvey, In good sooth for the wares, as I shall think good. Far well good man dotterel, and mark what I say, Or eyes it may chance you, to seek a new houd: You would eat no more cakebread, I think then by the rood, If that, that same poll from your shoulders were hent, You would think you were ill, if so you were shent. Ihill never nabore hodge, have a glad heart, Till Aegisthus the King, hath for his desert: Received due punishment, for this well I know, Horrestes to Crete, with Idumeus did go. When his father was slain, by his Mother most ill, And therefore I think, that come heather he will: And revenge the injury, of his mother most dire, wasting our land with sword, and with vyare. Iesu nabor, with vyar and sword? zaye you ze? By gys nabor, Ihill zave one I tro: For iche have small good, by gise for to lose, And therefore iche care not, however it goose. But Ihill not be slain, Ihill love nothing worse, Ihill never be burned, for the money in my purse. Iche have small ruddocks, and soldiers I know, Will rob the rich churls, and let the poor knaves go. A sir, now stay, and pause their a while, Be not to hasty, but take all the day: Be God I am weary, with coming this mile, And having no money, my horse heyare to pay. Who how, I rode on my feet, all the way, Iesu what ground, since yesterday at none, Have I gut thorough, with this pare of shoes. Nabor hodge, be goge hatch none I bear, That this little hourchet, the deviance doth bear. Come let us go, and of him in good sooth? We will conquer out, the very truth. Hurchyt, gogs oundes gip with a wanion, are you so lusty, in faith good man clound: 'ounds, heart, and nails, this is a franion, I'll teach you to flout me, I hold you a pound. O that it wear not, in faith for my gound? It will I be knoc 'em, yet for all that. Hold good master, you mare my new hat.
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)
A Syrra nay ſoft, what? let me ſee, God morrowe to you ſyr, how do you fare? Sante a men. I thincke it wyll be. the next day in ye morning, before I com thear Well forwarde I wyll, for to prepare, Some weapons & armour, ye catiues to quell, Ille teache the hurchetes, agayne to rebell. Rebell? ye ſyr, how ſaye you there to? What? you had not beſte their partes to take: Houlde the content foole, and do as I do, Or elles me chaunce, your pate for to ake. Ye and thats more, for feare thou ſhalt quake, Before Horeſtes, when in good ſouth he, Shall arryue in this lande, reuenged to bée: Well forwarde I wyll, thynges to pouruaye, In good ſouth for the wares, as I ſhall thincke good. Farre well good man dotterell, and marke what I ſaye, Or eles it may chaunce you, to ſeke a new houd: You would eate no more cakbread, I thinke then by ye roud, If that, that ſame poulle from your ſhoulderes were hent, You would thincke you were yll, if ſo you were ſhent. Chyll neuer nabore hodge, haue a glade harte, Tyll Egiſtous the Kynge, hath for his deſarte: Receiued dew punnyſhment, for this well I knowe, Horreſtes to Crete, with Idumeous dyd go. When his father was ſlayne, by his Mother moſt yll, And therefore I thincke, that com heather he wyll: And reuenge the iniurey, of his mother moſt dyare, waſtinge our land with zworde, and with vyare. Ieſu nabor, with vyar and zworde? zaye you ze? By gys nabor, chyll zaue one I tro: For iche haue ſmaull good, by giſe for to loſe, And therefore iche care not, how euer it goſe. But chyll not be zlayne, chyll loue nothinge worſſe, Chyll neuer be bournt, for the mony in my pourſe. Iche haue ſmall rouddockes, and ſodyers I kno, Wyll robbe the riche chorles, and let the poore knaues go. A ſyrre, nowe ſteye, and pauſe their a whyle, Be not to haſtye, but take all the daye: Be God I am wearey, with comming this myle, And hauing no money, my horſe heyare to paye. Who how, I rode on my fete, all the waye, Ieſu what ground, ſince yeſterday at none, Haue I gut thorow, with this pare of ſhoune. Nabor hodge, be goge hatche none I beare, That this lyttell hourchet, the devayaunce doth beare. Come let vs go, and of him in good ſouth? We woll conquear out, the verey truth. Hurchyt, goges oundes gyppe with a wanyon, Ar you ſo louſtey, in fayth good man clound: Oundes, hart, and nayles, this is a franion, Ille teache you to floute me, I hould you a pounde. O that it weare not, in fayth for my gound? It wyll I be knoc vm, yet for all that. Hould good maſter, you mare my new hat.