Aristippus, or The Jovial Philosopher · chunk 17 of 18
Randolph, Thomas · published 1630 · first performed or written 1626 [1625-1626] (Annals) entertainment; academic entertainment T3 Sickness, physic and doctors typicality 0.69 · 456 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T3: doctor, master, cure, disease, pray, physic, physician, mr, sick, lady.
And another friend of mine travailed with me, and to be short, I came into the Country of Cannibals, where missing my friend, I ran to seek him, and came at last into a Land where I saw a company feeding on him, they had eaten half of him, I was very pensive at his misfortune, or rather mine; at last I bethought me of a powder that I had about me, I put it into their wine, they had no sooner drank of it, but they presently disgorged their stomachs, and fell asleep; I Sir, gathered up the miserable morsels of my friend, placed them together, and restored him to be a perfect man again; and if he were here still alive, he were able to witness it himself, and do you think I cannot cure a ten-groat's damage, or a cracked Crown. Good Signior make no such delay, cure him, and have one wonder more to fill up your Legend. Here hold the Basin, you the Napkins, and you Mr Simplicius the Boxes, how shall we do to lay his feet upon? By my troth Sir, he is wonderfully hurt, his piamater I perceive is clean out of joint; of the 20. bones of the Cranium there is but three only whole, the rest are miserably crushed and broken, and two of his Sutures are clean perished, only the null remains free from violence, the four Tunicates of his eyes are threadbare, the Meninx of his ear is like a cut Drum, and the hammers lost: there is not a Cartilago in his head worth three pence, the top of his nose is dropped away, there is not a Muscle left in the cavities of his Nostrils, his dentes molares are past grinding, his Paslet is lost, and with it his gurgulio, yet if he can swallow, I warrant his drinking safe: help open his mouth. So, so, his throat is sound: he's well I warrant you; now give him a cup of Sack: so let me chafe his Temples, put this powder into another glass of Sack, and my life for his, he is as sound as the best of us all: let down his legs. How do you Sir? Why as young as the Morning, all life, and soul, not a dram of body; I am newly come back from hell, and have seen so many of my acquaintance there, that I wonder whose Art hath restored me to life again. The Catholic Bishop of Barbers, the very Metropolitan of Surgeons, Signior de Medico Campo. One that hath ingrossed all Arts to himself, as if he had the Monopoly. The only Hospital of sores. And Spittle-house of infirmities, Signior de Medico Campo.
nodes 376–383 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 17 of 18 in this edition
Length
456 words · 597 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T3 — Sickness, physic and doctorscross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.691 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
seed 43: T3 · seed 44: T4 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
And another friend of mine trauailed with me, and to be short, I came into the Country of Cannibals, where missing my friend, I ran to seeke him, and came at last into a Land where I saw a company feeding on him, they had eaten halfe of him, I was very pensiue at his misfortune, or rather mine▪ at last I bethought me of a powder that I had about me, I put it into their wine, they had no sooner drank of it, but they presently disgorged their stomacks, and fell asleep; I Sir, gathered vp the miserable morsels of my friend, placed them together, and restored him to be a perfect man againe; and if he were here still aliue, he were able to witnesse it himselfe, and doe you thinke I cannot cure a ten-groates dammage, or a crackt Crowne. Good Signior make no such delay, cure him, and haue one wonder more to fill vp your Legend. Here hold the Bason, you the Napkins, and you Mr Simplicius te Boxes, how shall we do to lay his feete vpon? By my troth Sir, he is wonderfully hurt, his piamter I perceiue is cleane out of ioynt; of the 20. bones of the Cranium there is but three onely whole, the rest are miserably crushed and broken, and two of his Sutures are cleane perished, onely the Sagitall remaines free from violence, the foure Tunicates of his eyes are thred-bare, the Meninx of his are is like a cut Drum, and the hammers lost: there is not a Catilago in his head worth three pence, the top of his nose is dropt away, there is not a Muskle left in the Cauities of his Nostrils, his dentes molares are past grinding, his Paet is lost, and with it his gurgulio, yet if he can swallow, I warrant his drinking safe: helpe open his mouth. So, so, his throat is sound: he's well I warrant you; now giue him a cup of Sack: so let me chafe his Temples, put this powder into another glasse of Sacke, and my life for his, he is as sound as the best of vs all: let downe his legs. How doe you Sir? Why as young as the Morning, all life, and soule, not a dra of body; I am newly come backe from hell, and haue seene so many of my acquaintance there, that I wonder whose Art hath restored me to life againe. The Catholique Bishop of Barbers, the very Metropolitan of Surgeons, Signior de Medico Campo. One that hath ingross'd all Arts to himselfe, as if he had the Monopoly. The onely Hospitall of soares. And Spittle-house of infirmities, Signior de Medico Campo.