Middleton, Thomas · published 1625 · first performed or written 1624 [licensed for stage, Jun 12] (Annals) comedy · King's Men · Globe unassigned nearest T44 Drinking: wine, ale and taverns · 450 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T44: drink, wine, numps, ale, butler, pot, sing, moy, drunk, win.
Well you are as sound a spokesman for parsimony, And clear abstinence, and scarce one meal a day As ever spoke with tongue. Censure him mild (sir) 'twas but to find discourse. he'll talk of any thing. I shall be half afraid to feed hereafter. Or I beshrew my heart: for I fear fatness, The fog of fatness as I fear a Dragon: The comeliness I wish for, that's as glorious. Your course is wondrous strict: I should transgress (sir) Were I to change my side (as you have wrought me.) How you misprise? 'tis not meant to you-ward: You that are wound up to the height of feeding, By clime and custom are dispensed withal, You may eat, Cabrito, Calf, and Ton's: Eat, and eat every day, twice if you please. Nay, the franked hen, fatted with Milk and Corn, A riot which the Inhabitants of Delos Were first inventors of: or the crammed Cockle. Well for the food I'm happily resolved in; But for the diet of my disposition, There comes a trouble you will hardly find Food to please that. It must be a strange nature, We cannot find a dish for't, having Policy (The Master Cook of Christendom) to dress it. Pray name your nature's diet. The first mess, is hot Ambition. That's but served in puff-paste: Alas, the meanest of our Cardinals Cooks Can dress that dinner: Your Ambition (sir) Can fetch no further compass than the World? That's certain (Sir.) we are about that already, And in the large feast of our vast Ambition, We count but the white Kingdom (whence you came from) The Garden for our Cook, to pick his Salads: The food's lean France larded with Germany; Before which comes the the Grave, chaste Signiory Of Venice, served in (Capon-like) in White-broth: From our chief Oven Italy the bake-meats: Savoy the Salt: Genena the chipped Mancher. Below the Salt, the Netherlands are placed; A common dish at lower end a'th' table, For meaner pride to fall too. For our second course, A spit of Portugals served in for Plovers: Indians and Moores for blackbirds: all this while Holland stands ready melted to make sauce, On all occasions, when the Voider comes; And with such cheer our full hopes we suffice, Zealand says grace, for fashion when we rise. Her's meat enough in conscience for ambition If there be any want there is Switzerland, Polonia, and such pickled things will serve To furnish out the table. You say well (sir) But here's the misery, when I ha' stopped the mouth Of one vice, there's another stands gaping for food. I'm as covetous as a barren womb, The grave, or what's more ravenous?
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)
Well you are as ſound a ſpokes-man for parſimony, And cleare abſtinance, and ſcarce one meale a day As euer ſpake with tongue. Cenſure him mildle (ſir) 'twas but to finde diſcourſe. Heele talke of any thing. I ſhall be halfe a fraide to feede hereafter. Or I beſhrew my heart: for I feare fatneſſe, The fogge of fatneſſe as I feare a Dragon: The comlineſſe I wiſh for, that's as glorious. Your courſe is wondrous ſtrict: I ſhould tranſgreſſe (ſir) Were I to change my ſide (as you haue wrought me.) How you miſprize? tis not ment to you-ward: You that are wound vp to the hight of feedinh, By clime and cuſtome are diſpenc'd withall, You may eate, Cabrito, Calfe, and Ton's: Eate, and eate euery day, twice if you pleaſe▪ Nay, the frank'd hen, fatted with Milke and Corne▪ A ryot which the Inhabitants of Delos Were firſt inventers of: or the cramb'd Cockle. Well for the foode I'me happily reſolued in; But for the dyet of my diſpoſition, There comes a trouble you will hardly finde Food to pleaſe that. It muſt be a ſtrange nature, We cannot finde a diſh for't, hauing Policy (The Maiſter Cooke of Chriſtendome) to dreſſe it. Pray name your natures dyet. The firſt meſſe, is hot Ambition. That's but ſeru'd in puff-paſte: Alas, the meaneſt of our Cardinalls Cookes Can dreſſe that dinner: Your Ambition (ſir) Can fetch no further compaſſe then the World? Thats certaine (Sir.) Wee are about that already, And in the large feaſt of our vaſt Ambition, We count but the white Kingdome (whence you came from) The Garden for our Cooke, to picke his Sallads: The food's leane France larded▪ with Germany; Before which comes the the Graue, chaſt Signiory Of Venice, ſeru'd in (Capon-like) in White-broth: From our chiefe Oven Italy the bake-meates: Savoy the Salte: Genena the chip'd Mancher. Below the Salte, the Netherlands are plac'd; A common diſh at lower end a'th table, For meaner pride to fall too. For our ſecond courſe, A ſpit of Portugals ſeru'd in for Plouers: Indians and Moores for blacke-birds: all this while Holland ſtands ready melted to make ſawce, On all occaſions, when the Voyder comes; And with ſuch cheare our full hopes wee ſuffice, Zealand ſaies grace, for faſhion when we riſe. Her's meat enough in conſcience for ambition If there be any want there is Swiſſerland, Polonia, and ſuch pickled things will ſerue To furniſh out the table. You ſay well (ſir) Buthere's the miſery▪ when I ha ſtopt the mouth Of one vice, ther's another ſtands gaping for food. I'me as couetous as a barren wombe, The graue, or what's more rauenous?