Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1592 [c.1590-1593] (Annals) comedy · Pembroke's Men (?) unassigned nearest T6 Money, debt and credit · 492 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T6: money, master, pound, law, lawyer, chain, gentleman, gold, pay, pray.
Where is thy Master Dromio? Is he well? No, he's in Tartar limbo, worse than hell: A devil in an everlasting garment hath him; On whose hard heart is buttoned up with steel: A Fiend, a Fairy, pitiless and ruff: A Wolf, nay worse, a fellow all in buff: A back friend, a shoulderclapper, one that countermands The passages of allies, creeks, and narrow lands: A hound that runs Counter, and yet draws drifoot well, One that before the judgement carries poor souls to hell. Why man, what is the matter? I do not know the matter, he is rested on the case. What is he arrested? tell me at whose suit? I know not at whose suit he is arrested well; but is in a suit of buff which rested him, that can I tell, will you send him Mistress redemption, the money in his desk. Go fetch it Sister: this I wonder at. Thus he unknown to me should be in debt: Tell me, was he arrested on a band? Not on a band, but on a stronger thing: A chain, a chain, do you not here it ring. What, the chain? No, no, the bell, 'tis time that I were gone: It was two ere I left him, and now the clock strikes one. The hours come back, that did I never here. Oh yes, if any hour meet a Sergeant, a turns back for very fear. As if time were in debt: how fond dost thou reason? Time is a very bankrupt, and owes more than he's worth to season. Nay, he's a thief too: have you not heard men say, That time comes stealing on by night and day? If I be in debt and theft, and a Sergeant in the way, Hath he not reason to turn back an hour in a day? Go Dromio, there's the money, bear it strait, And bring thy Master home immediately. Come sister, I am pressed down with conceit: Conceit, my comfort and my injury. There's not a man I meet but doth salute me As if I were their well acquainted friend, And every one doth call me by my name: Some tender money to me, some invite me; Some other give me thankes for kindnesses; Some offer me Commodities to buy. Even now o' tailor called me in his shop, And showed me Silks that he had bought for me, And therewithal took measure of my body. Sure these are but imaginary wiles, And lapland Sorcerers inhabit here. Master, here's the gold you sent me for: what have you got the picture of old Adam new appareled? What gold is this? What Adam dost thou mean? Not that Adam that kept the Paradise: but that Adam that keeps the prison; he that goes in the calves-skin, that was killed for the Prodigal: he that came behind you sir, like an evil angel, and bid you forsake your liberty.
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: T21 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Where is thy Maſter Dromio? Is he well? No, he's in Tartar limbo, worſe then hell: A diuell in an euerlaſting garment hath him; On whoſe hard heart is button'd vp with ſteele: A Feind, a Fairie, pittileſſe and ruffe: A Wolfe, nay worſe, a fellow all in buffe▪ A back friend, a ſhoulder-clapper, one that countermāds The paſſages of allies, creekes, and narrow lands: A hound that runs Counter, and yet draws drifoot well, One that before the Iudgmēt carries poore ſoules to hel. Why man, what is the matter? I doe not know the matter, hee is reſted on the caſe. What is he arreſted? tell me at whoſe ſuite? I know not at whoſe ſuite he is areſted well; but is in a ſuite of buffe which reſted him, that can I tell, will you ſend him Miſtris redemption, the monie in his deske. Go fetch it Siſter: this I wonder at. Thus he vnknowne to me ſhould be in debt: Tell me, was he areſted on a band? Not on a band, but on a ſtronger thing: A chaine, a chaine, doe you not here it ring. What, the chaine? No, no, the bell, 'tis time that I were gone: It was two ere I left him, and now the clocke ſtrikes one. The houres come backe, that did I neuer here. Oh yes, if any houre meete a Serieant, a turnes backe for verie feare. As if time were in debt: how fondly do'ſt thou reaſon? Time is a verie bankerout, and owes more then he's worth to ſeaſon. Nay, he's a theefe too: haue you not heard men ſay, That time comes ſtealing on by night and day? If I be in debt and theft, and a Serieant in the way, Hath he not reaſon to turne backe an houre in a day? Go Dromio, there's the monie, beare it ſtraight, And bring thy Maſter home imediately. Come ſiſter, I am preſt downe with conceit: Conceit, my comfort and my iniurie. There's not a man I meete but doth ſalute me As if I were their well acquainted friend, And euerie one doth call me by my name: Some tender monie to me, ſome inuite me; Some other giue me thankes for kindneſſes; Some offer me Commodities to buy. Euen now a' tailor cal'd me in his ſhop, And ſhow'd me Silkes that he had bought for me, And therewithall tooke meaſure of my body. Sure theſe are but imaginarie wiles, And lapland Sorcerers inhabite here. Maſter, here's the gold you ſent me for: what haue you got the picture of old Adam new apparel'd? What gold is this? What Adam do'ſt thou meane? Not that Adam that kept the Paradiſe: but that Adam that keepes the priſon; hee that goes in the calues-skin, that was kil'd for the Prodigall: hee that came behinde you ſir, like an euill angel, and bid you forſake your libertie.