Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1592 [c.1590-1593] (Annals) comedy · Pembroke's Men (?) T41 Household service: masters, doors and po typicality 0.80 · 511 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T41: master, house, door, iohn, old, mistress, basket, lord, gentleman, ick.
Come, come, no longer will I be a fool, To put the finger in the eye and weep; Whilst man and Master laughs my woes to scorn: Come sir to dinner, Dromio keep the gate: Husband I'll dine above with you to day, And shrive you of a thousand idle pranks: Sirrah, if any ask you for your Master, Say he dines forth, and let no creature enter: Come sister, Dromio play the Porter well. Am I in earth, in heaven, or in hell? Sleeping or waking, mad or well advised: Known unto these, and to myself disguised: I'll say as they say, and persever so: And in this mist at all adventures go. Master, shall I be Porter at the gate? I, and let none enter, lest I break your pate. Come, come, Antipholus, we dine to late. Good signior Angelo you must excuse us all, My wife is shrewish when I keep not hours; Say that I lingered with you at your shop To see the making of her Carcanet, And that to morrow you will bring it home. But here's a villain that would face me down He met me on the Mart, and that I beat him, And charged him with a thousand marks in gold, And that I did deny my wife and house; Thou drunkard thou, what didst thou mean by this? Say what you will sir, but I know what I know, That you beat me at the Mart I have your hand to show; If the skin were parchment, & the blows you gave were ink, Your own hand-writing would tell you what I think. I think thou art an ass. Marry so it doth appear By the wrongs I suffer, and the blows I bear, I should kick being kicked, and being at that pass, You would keep from my heels, and beware of an ass. YE are sad signior Balthasar, pray God our cheer May answer my good will, and your good welcome here. I hold your dainties cheap sir, & your welcome deer. Oh signior Balthasar, either at flesh or fish, A table full of welcome, makes scarce one dainty dish. Good meat sir is common that every churl affords. And welcome more common, for that's nothing but words. Small cheer and great welcome, makes a merry feast. I, to a niggardly Host, and more sparing guest: But though my cates be mean, take them in good part, Better cheer may you have, but not with better hart. But soft, my door is locked; go bid them let us in. Maud, Bridget, Marian, Cisley, Gillian, Ginn. Mome, Malthorse, Capon, Coxcomb, Idiot, Patch, Either get thee from the door, or sit down at the hatch: Dost thou conjure for wenches, that thou call'st for such store, When one is one too many, go get thee from the door. What patch is made our Porter? my Master stays in the street. Let him walk from whence he came, lest he catch cold on's feet. Who talks within there? hoa, open the door.
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)
Come, come, no longer will I be a foole, To put the finger in the eie and weepe; Whil'ſt man and Maſter laughes my woes to ſcorne: Come ſir to dinner, Dromio keepe the gate: Husband Ile dine aboue with you to day, And ſhriue you of a thouſand idle prankes: Sirra, if any aske you for your Maſter, Say he dines forth, and let no creature enter: Come ſiſter, Dromio play the Porter well. Am I in earth, in heauen, or in hell? Sleeping or waking, mad or well aduiſde: Knowne vnto theſe, and to my ſelfe diſguiſde: Ile ſay as they ſay, and perſeuer ſo: And in this miſt at all aduentures go. Maſter, ſhall I be Porter at the gate? I, and let none enter, leaſt I breake your pate. Come, come, Antipholus, we dine to late. Good ſignior Angelo you muſt excuſe vs all, My wife is ſhrewiſh when I keepe not howres; Say that I lingerd with you at your ſhop To ſee the making of her Carkanet, And that to morrow you will bring it home. But here's a villaine that would face me downe He met me on the Mart, and that I beat him, And charg'd him with a thouſand markes in gold, And that I did denie my wife and houſe; Thou drunkard thou, what didſt thou meane by this? Say what you wil ſir, but I know what I know, That you beat me at the Mart I haue your hand to ſhow; If ye skin were parchment, & ye blows you gaue were ink, Your owne hand-writing would tell you what I thinke. I thinke thou art an aſſe. Marry ſo it doth appeare By the wrongs I ſuffer, and the blowes I beare, I ſhould kicke being kickt, and being at that paſſe, You would keepe from my heeles, and beware of an aſſe. Y' are ſad ſignior Balthazar, pray God our cheer May anſwer my good will, and your good welcom here. I hold your dainties cheap ſir, & your welcom deer. Oh ſignior Balthazar, either at fleſh or fiſh, A table full of welcome, makes ſcarce one dainty diſh. Good meat ſir is comon that euery churle affords. And welcome more common, for thats nothing but words. Small cheere and great welcome, makes a merrie feaſt. I, to a niggardly Hoſt, and more ſparing gueſt: But though my cates be meane, take them in good part, Better cheere may you haue, but not with better hart. But ſoft, my doore is lockt; goe bid them let vs in. Maud, Briget, Marian, Ciſley, Gillian, Ginn. Mome, Malthorſe, Capon, Coxcombe, Idiot, Patch, Either get thee from the dore, or ſit downe at the hatch: Doſt thou coniure for wenches, that yu calſt for ſuch ſtore, When one is one too many, goe get thee from the dore. What patch is made our Porter? my Maſter ſtayes in the ſtreet. Let him walke from whence he came, leſt hee catch cold on's feet. Who talks within there? hoa, open the dore.