Shakespeare, William / Middleton, Thomas · published 1623 · first performed or written 1607 [c.1606-c.1608] (Annals) tragedy · King's Men T6 Money, debt and credit typicality 0.82 · 483 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T6: money, master, pound, law, lawyer, chain, gentleman, gold, pay, pray.
Well met, good-morrow Titus & Hortensius The like to you kind Varro. Lucius, what do we meet together? I, and I think one business does command us all. For mine is money. So is theirs, and ours. And sir Philotus too. Good day at once. Welcome good Brother. What do you think the hour? Labouring for Nine. So much? Is not my Lord seen yet? Not yet. I wonder on't, he was wont to shine at seven. I, but the days are waxed shorter with him: You must consider, that a Prodigal course Is like the Suns, but not like his recoverable, I fear: 'Tis deepest Winter in Lord Timon's purse, that is: One may reach deep enough, and yet find little. I am of your fear, for that. I'll show you how t' observe a strange event: Your Lord sends now for Money? Most true, he does. And he wears jewels now of Timon's gift, For which I wait for money. It is against my heart. Mark how strange it shows, Timon in this, should pay more than he owes: And e'en as if your Lord should wear rich jewels, And send for money for 'em. I'm weary of this Charge, The Gods can witness: I know my Lord hath spent of Timon's wealth, And now Ingratitude, makes it worse than stealth. Yes, mine's three thousand Crowns: What's yours? Five thousand mine. 'Tis much deep, and it should seem by th' sum Your Master's confidence was above mine, Else surely his had equalled. One of Lord Timon's men. Flaminius? Sir, a word: Pray is my Lord ready to come forth? No, indeed he is not. We attend his Lordship: pray signify so much. I need not tell him that, he knows you are too diligent. Ha': is not that his Steward muffled so? He goes away in a Cloud: Call him, call him. Do you hear, sir? By your leave, sir. What do ye ask of me, my Friend. We wait for certain Money here, sir. I, if Money were as certain as your waiting, 'Twere sure enough. Why then preferred you not your sums and Bills When your false Masters eat of my Lord's meat? Then they could smile, and fawn upon his debts. And take down th' Interest into their glutt'nous Maws. You do yourselves but wrong, to stir me up, Let me pass quietly: Believe't, my Lord and I have made an end, I have no more to reckon, he to spend. I, but this answer will not serve. If't 'twill not serve, 'tis not so base as you, For you serve Knaves. How? What does his cashiered Worship mutter? No matter what, he's poor, and that's revenge enough. Who can speak broader, than he that has no house to put his head in? Such may rail against great buildings. Oh here's Servilius: now we shall know some answer.
nodes 886–953 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 16 of 35 in this edition
Length
483 words · 663 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T6 — Money, debt and creditcross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.824 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
seed 43: T9 · seed 44: T10 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Well met, goodmorrow Titus & Hortenſius The like to you kinde Varro. Lucius, what do we meet together? I, and I think one buſineſſe do's command vs all. For mine is money. So is theirs, and ours. And ſir Philotus too. Good day at once. Welcome good Brother. What do you thinke the houre? Labouring for Nine. So much? Is not my Lord ſeene yet? Not yet. I wonder on't, he was wont to ſhine at ſeauen. I, but the dayes are waxt ſhorter with him: You muſt conſider, that a Prodigall courſe Is like the Sunnes, but not like his recouerable, I feare: 'Tis deepeſt Winter in Lord Timons purſe, that is: One may reach deepe enough, and yet finde little. I am of your feare, for that. Ile ſhew you how t' obſerue a ſtrange euent: Your Lord ſends now for Money? Moſt true, he doe's. And he weares Iewels now of Timons guift, For which I waite for money. It is againſt my heart. Marke how ſtrange it ſhowes, Timon in this, ſhould pay more then he owes: And e'ne as if your Lord ſhould weare rich Iewels, And ſend for money for 'em. I'me weary of this Charge, The Gods can witneſſe: I know my Lord hath ſpent of Timons wealth, And now Ingratitude, makes it worſe then ſtealth. Yes, mine's three thouſand Crownes: What's yours? Fiue thouſand mine. 'Tis much deepe, and it ſhould ſeem by th' ſum Your Maſters confidence was aboue mine, Elſe ſurely his had equall'd. One of Lord Timons men. Flaminius? Sir, a word: Pray is my Lord readie to come forth? No, indeed he is not. We attend his Lordſhip: pray ſignifie ſo much. I need not tell him that, he knowes you are too diligent. Ha: is not that his Steward muffled ſo? He goes away in a Clowd: Call him, call him. Do you heare, ſir? By your leaue, ſir. What do ye aske of me, my Friend. We waite for certaine Money heere, ſir. I, if Money were as certaine as your waiting, 'Twere ſure enough. Why then preferr'd you not your ſummes and Billes When your falſe Maſters eate of my Lords meat? Then they could ſmile, and fawne vpon his debts. And take downe th' Intreſt into their glutt'nous Mawes. You do your ſelues but wrong, to ſtirre me vp, Let me paſſe quietly: Beleeue't, my Lord and I haue made an end, I haue no more to reckon, he to ſpend. I, but this anſwer will not ſerue. If't 'twill not ſerue, 'tis not ſo baſe as you, For you ſerue Knaues. How? What does his caſheer'd Worſhip mutter? No matter what, hee's poore, and that's reuenge enough. Who can ſpeake broader, then hee that has no houſe to put his head in? Such may rayle againſt great buildings. Oh heere's Seruilius: now wee ſhall know ſome anſwere.