Renaissance Drama — Topics · seed 42

The Comedy of Errors · chunk 11 of 29

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 0.89 · 504 words

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Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T41: master, house, door, iohn, old, mistress, basket, lord, gentleman, ick.

Right sir, I'll tell you when, and you'll tell me wherefore. Wherefore? for my dinner: I have not dined to day. Nor to day here you must not come again when you may. What art thou that keep'st me out from the house I own? The Porter for this time Sir, and my name is Dromio. O villain, thou hast stolen both mine office and my name, The one ne'er got me credit, the other much blame: If thou hadst been Dromio to day in my place, Thou wouldst have changed thy face for a name, or thy name for an ass. What a coil is there Dromio? who are those at the gate? Let my Master in Luce. Faith no, he comes too late, and so tell your Master. O Lord I must laugh, have at you with a Proverb, Shall I set in my staff. Have at you with another, that's when? can you tell? If thy name be called Luce, Luce thou hast answered him well. Do you hear you minion, you'll let us in I hope? I thought to have asked you. And you said no. So come help, well strooke, there was blow for blow. Thou baggage let me in. Can you tell for whose sake? Master, knock the door hard. Let him knock till it ache. You'll cry for this minion, if I beat the door down. What needs all that, and a pair of stocks in the town? Who is that at the door that keeps all this noise? By my troth your town is troubled with unruly boys. Are you there Wife? you might have come before. Your wife sir knave? go get you from the door. If you went in pain Master, this knave would go sore. here is neither cheer sir, nor welcome, we would fain have either. In debating which was best, we shall part with neither. They stand at the door, Master, bid them welcome hither. There is something in the wind, that we cannot get in. You would say so Master, if your garments were thin. Your cake here is warm within: you stand here in the cold. It would make a man mad as a Buck to be so bought and sold. Go fetch me something, I'll break open the gate. Break any breaking here, and I'll break your knave's pate. A man may break a word with your sir, and words are but wind; I and break it in your face, so he break it not behind. It seems thou want'st breaking, out upon thee hind. Here's too much out upon thee, I pray thee let me in. I, when fowls have no feathers, and fish have no sin. Well, I'll break in: go borrow me a crow. A crow without feather, Master mean you so; For a fish without a fin, there's a fowl without a fether, If a crow help us in sirrah, we'll pluck a crow together. Go, get thee gone, fetch me an iron Crow.
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Details

Metadata, position in the edition, topic in the other seeds
PlayThe Comedy of Errors
AuthorShakespeare, William
Publication year (edition)1623
First performance / composition (Annals)1592 [c.1590-1593]
First performance (BritDrama)1592 [1589-1593]
Company (BritDrama)Pembroke's Men (?)
Genre (British Drama)comedy
Play typeAdult Professional;Professional
Edition / TCP / DEEPedition 866 · TCP A11954 · DEEP 5081.05
Edition roleRepresentative edition — used in the analysis
Positionnodes 599–648 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 11 of 29 in this edition
Length504 words · 649 tokens
Topic (seed 42)T41 — Household service: masters, doors and porters reviewed — decision pending · typicality 0.890 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seedsseed 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)
Right ſir, Ile tell you when, and you'll tell me wherefore. Wherefore? for my dinner: I haue not din'd to day. Nor to day here you muſt not come againe when you may. What art thou that keep'ſt mee out from the howſe I owe? The Porter for this time Sir, and my name is Dromio. O villaine, thou haſt ſtolne both mine office and my name, The one nere got me credit, the other mickle blame: If thou hadſt beene Dromio to day in my place, Thou wouldſt haue chang'd thy face for a name, or thy name for an aſſe. What a coile is there Dromio? who are thoſe at the gate? Let my Maſter in Luce. Faith no, hee comes too late, and ſo tell your Maſter. O Lord I muſt laugh, haue at you with a Prouerbe, Shall I ſet in my ſtaffe. Haue at you with another, that's when? can you tell? If thy name be called Luce, Luce thou haſt anſwer'd him well. Doe you heare you minion, you'll let vs in I hope? I thought to haue askt you. And you ſaid no. So come helpe, well ſtrooke, there was blow for blow. Thou baggage let me in. Can you tell for whoſe ſake? Maſter, knocke the doore hard. Let him knocke till it ake. You'll crie for this minion, if I beat the doore downe. What needs all that, and a paire of ſtocks in the towne? Who is that at the doore yt keeps all this noiſe? By my troth your towne is troubled with vnruly boies. Are you there Wife? you might haue come before. Your wife ſir knaue? go get you from the dore. If you went in paine Maſter, this knaue wold goe ſore. Heere is neither cheere ſir, nor welcome, we would faine haue either. In debating which was beſt, wee ſhall part with neither. They ſtand at the doore, Maſter, bid them welcome hither. There is ſomething in the winde, that we cannot get in. You would ſay ſo Maſter, if your garments were thin. Your cake here is warme within: you ſtand here in the cold. It would make a man mad as a Bucke to be ſo bought and ſold. Go fetch me ſomething, Ile break ope the gate. Breake any breaking here, and Ile breake your knaues pate. A man may breake a word with your ſir, and words are but winde; I and breake it in your face, ſo he break it not behinde. It ſeemes thou want'ſt breaking, out vpon thee hinde. Here's too much out vpon thee, I pray thee let me in. I, when fowles haue no feathers, and fiſh haue no ſin. Well, Ile breake in: go borrow me a crow. A crow without feather, Maſter meane you ſo; For a fiſh without a finne, ther's a fowle without afether, If a crow help vs in ſirra, wee'll plucke a crow together. Go, get thee gon, fetch me an iron Crow.