Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1609 [c.1608-1611] (Annals) romance · King's Men unassigned nearest T41 Household service: masters, doors and po · 495 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T41: master, house, door, iohn, old, mistress, basket, lord, gentleman, ick.
You Polidore have proved best Woodman, and Are Master of the Feast: Cadwall, and I Will play the Cook, and Servant, 'tis our match: The sweat of industry would dry, and dye But for the end it works too. Come, our stomachs Will make what's homely, savoury: Weariness Can snore upon the Flint, when resty Sloth Finds the Downe-pillow hard. Now peace be here, Poor house, that keep'st thyself. I am throughly weary. I am weak with toil, yet strong in appetite. There is cold meat i' th' Cave, we'll brouz on that Whilst what we have killed, be Cooked. Stay, come not in: But that it eats our victuals, I should think here were a Fairy. What's the matter, Sir? By Iupiter an Angel: or if not An earthly Paragon. Behold Divinenesse No elder than a Boy. Good masters harm me not: Before I entered here, I called, and thought To have begged, or bought, what I have took: good troth I have stolen nought, nor would not, though I had found Gold strewed i' th' Floor. here's money for my Meat, I would have left it on the Board, so soon As I had made my Meal; and parted With Prayers for the Provider. Money? Youth. All Gold and Silver rather turn to dirt, As 'tis no better reckoned, but of those Who worship dirty Gods. I see you're angry: Know, if you kill me for my fault, I should Have died, had I not made it. Whether bound? To Milford-haven. What's your name? Fidele Sir: I have a Kinsman, who Is bound for Italy; he embarked at Milford, To whom being going, almost spent with hunger, I am fall'n in this offence. Prithee (fair youth) Think us no Churls: nor measure our good minds By this rude place we live in. Well encountered, 'Tis almost night, you shall have better cheer E'er you depart; and thankes to stay, and eat it. Boys, bid him welcome. Were you a woman, youth, I should woe hard, but be your Groom in honesty: I bid for you, as I do buy. I'll make't my Comfort He is a man, I'll love him as my Brother: And such a welcome as I'd give to him (After long absence) such is yours. Most welcome: Be sprightly, for you fall 'mongst Friends. 'Mongst Friends? If Brothers: would it had been so, that they Had been my Father's Sons, than had my prize Been less, and so more equal ballasting To thee Posthumus. He wrings at some distress. Would I could freeed. Or I, what ere it be, What pain it cost, what danger: Gods! Hark Boys. Great men That had a Court no bigger than this Cave, That did attend themselves, and had the virtue Which their own Conscience sealed them: laying by That nothing-guift of differing Multitudes Can not out-peere these twain. Pardon me Gods, I'd change my sex to be Companion with them, Since Leonatus false.
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)
You Polidore haue prou'd beſt Woodman, and Are Maſter of the Feaſt: Cadwall, and I Will play the Cooke, and Seruant, 'tis our match: The ſweat of induſtry would dry, and dye But for the end it workes too. Come, our ſtomackes Will make what's homely, ſauoury: Wearineſſe Can ſnore vpon the Flint, when reſtie Sloth Findes the Downe-pillow hard. Now peace be heere, Poore houſe, that keep'ſt thy ſelfe. I am throughly weary. I am weake with toyle, yet ſtrong in appetite. There is cold meat i' th' Caue, we'l brouz on that Whil'ſt what we haue kill'd, be Cook'd. Stay, come not in: But that it eates our victualles, I ſhould thinke Heere were a Faiery. What's the matter, Sir? By Iupiter an Angell: or if not An earthly Paragon. Behold Diuineneſſe No elder then a Boy. Good maſters harme me not: Before I enter'd heere, I call'd, and thought To haue begg'd, or bought, what I haue took: good troth I haue ſtolne nought, nor would not, though I had found Gold ſtrew'd i' th' Floore. Heere's money for my Meate, I would haue left it on the Boord, ſo ſoone As I had made my Meale; and parted With Pray'rs for the Prouider. Money? Youth. All Gold and Siluer rather turne to durt, As 'tis no better reckon'd, but of thoſe Who worſhip durty Gods. I ſee you're angry: Know, if you kill me for my fault, I ſhould Haue dyed, had I not made it. Whether bound? To Milford-Hauen. What's your name? Fidele Sir: I haue a Kinſman, who Is bound for Italy; he embark'd at Milford, To whom being going, almoſt ſpent with hunger, I am falne in this offence. Prythee (faire youth) Thinke vs no Churles: nor meaſure our good mindes By this rude place we liue in. Well encounter'd, 'Tis almoſt night, you ſhall haue better cheere Ere you depart; and thankes to ſtay, and eate it. Boyes, bid him welcome. Were you a woman, youth, I ſhould woo hard, but be your Groome in honeſty: I bid for you, as I do buy. Ile make't my Comfort He is a man, Ile loue him as my Brother: And ſuch a welcome as I'ld giue to him (After long abſence) ſuch is yours. Moſt welcome: Be ſprightly, for you fall 'mongſt Friends. 'Mongſt Friends? If Brothers: would it had bin ſo, that they Had bin my Fathers Sonnes, then had my prize Bin leſſe, and ſo more equall ballaſting To thee Poſthumus. He wrings at ſome diſtreſſe. Would I could free't. Or I, what ere it be, What paine it coſt, what danger: Gods! Hearke Boyes. Great men That had a Court no bigger then this Caue, That did attend themſelues, and had the vertue Which their owne Conſcience ſeal'd them: laying by That nothing-guift of differing Multitudes Could not out-peere theſe twaine. Pardon me Gods, I'ld change my ſexe to be Companion with them, Since Leonatus falſe.