Middleton, Thomas · published 1630 · first performed or written 1613 (Annals) comedy · Lady Elizabeth's Men · Swan unassigned nearest T41 Household service: masters, doors and po · 477 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T41: master, house, door, iohn, old, mistress, basket, lord, gentleman, ick.
I'll ease you of that care, and please myself in't My Love the Goldsmith's Daughter, if I send, Her Father will command her, Davy Dahumma. I'll fit your Worship then with a Male Partner. What is he? A kind proper Gentleman, Brother to Mr Tuchwood. I know Tuchwood, has he a Brother living? A neat Bachelor. Now we know him, we'll make shift with him Dispatch the time draws near, Come hither Davy. In troth I pity him, he ne'er stands still, Poor Knight what pains he takes, sends this way one, That way another, has not an hour's leisure, I would not have thy toil, for all thy pleasure, Ha, how now, what are these that stand so close At the Street-corner, pricking up their Ears, And snuffing up their Noses, like rich-men's Dogs When the first Course goes in? By the mass Promoters, 'Tis so I hold my life, and planted there To arrest the dead Corpse of poor Calves and Sheep, Like ravenous Creditors, that will not suffer The Bodies of their poor departed Debtors To go toth' grave, but e'en in Death to vex And stay the Corpse, with Bills of Middlesex, This Lent will fat the whoresons up with sweetbreads, And lard their whores with Lamb-stones, what their golls Can clutch, goes presently to their molls and dolls, The Bawds will be so fat with what they earn, Their Chins will hang like Udders, by Easter-eve, And being stroked, will give the Milk of Witches, How did the mongrels hear my wife lies in? Well, I may baffle 'em gallantly, By your favour Gentlemen I am a stranger both unto the City, And to her carnal strictness. Good, Your will Sir? Pray tell me where one dwells that kills this Lent. How kills? Come hither Dick, A Bird, a Bird. What is't that you would have? Faith any Flesh, But I long especially for veal and Greensauce. green-goose, you shall be sauced. I have half a scornful stomach, no Fish will be admitted. Not this Lent Sir? Lent, what cares Colon here for Lent? You say well Sir, Good reason that the Colon of a Gentleman As you were lately pleased to term your worship Sir, Should be fulfilled with answerable food, To sharpen Blood, delight Health, and tickle Nature, Were you directed hither to this Street Sir? That I was, I marry. And the Butcher belike Should kill, and sell close in some upper Room? Some Apple-loft as I take it, or a coal-house, I know not which i'faith. Either will serve, This Butcher shall kiss Newgate, less he turn up the Bottom of the Pocket of his Apron, You go to seek him? Where you shall not find him, I'll buy, walk by your Noses with my Flesh, sheep-biting mongrels, Hand-basket Freebooters, My Wife lies in, a foutra for Promoters.
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)
I'le eaſe you of that care, and pleaſe my ſelfe in't My Loue the Goldſmithes Daughter, if I ſend, Her Father will command her, Dauy Dahumma. I'le fit your Worſhip then with a Male Partner. What is he? A kind proper Gentleman, Brother to Mr Tuchwood. I know Tuchwood, has he a Brother liuing? A neat Batchelor. Now we know him, we'le make ſhift with him Diſpatch the time drawes neere, Come hither Dauy. In troth I pittie him, he ne're ſtands ſtill, Poore Knight what paines he takes, ſends this way one, That way another, has not an houres leaſure, I would not haue thy toyle, for all thy pleaſure, Ha, how now, what are theſe that ſtand ſo cloſe At the Street-corner, pricking vp their Eares, And ſnuffing vp their Noſes, like rich-mens Dogges When the firſt Courſe goes in? By the maſſe Promoters, 'Tis ſo I hold my life, and planted there To arreſt the dead Corps of poore Calues and Sheepe, Like rauenous Creditors, that will not ſuffer The Bodyes of their poore departed Debtors To goe to' th' graue, but eene in Death to vex And ſtay the Corps, with Billes of Middleſex, This Lent will fat the whoreſons vp with Sweetbreds, And lard their whores with Lambe-ſtones, what their gols Can clutch, goes preſently to their Mols and Dols, The Bawds will be ſo fat with what they earne, Their Chins will hang like Vdders, by Eaſter-eeue, And being ſtroak't, will giue the Milke of Witches, How did the Mungrels heare my wife lyes in? Well, I may baffle 'em gallantly, By your fauour Gentlemen I am a ſtranger both vnto the Citie, And to her carnall ſtricktneſſe. Good, Your will Sir? Pray tell me where one dwells that kils this Lent. How kils? Come hither Dicke, A Bird, a Bird. What iſt that you would haue? Faith any Fleſh, But I long eſpecially for Veale and Greene-ſauce. Greene-Gooſe, you ſhall be ſau'ſt. I haue halfe a ſcornefull ſtomacke, no Fiſh will be admitted. Not this Lent Sir? Lent, what cares Colon here for Lent? You ſay well Sir, Good reaſon that the Colon of a Gentleman As you were lately pleas'd to terme your worſhip Sir, Should be fulfill'd with anſwerable food, To ſharpen Blood, delight Health, and tickle Nature, Were you directed hither to this Street Sir? That I was, I marry. And the Butcher belike Should kill, and ſell cloſe in ſome vpper Roome? Some Apple-loft as I take it, or a Cole-houſe, I know not which I faith. Either will ſerue, This Butcher ſhall kifſe Newgate, leſſe he turne vp the Bottome of the Pocket of his Apron, You goe to ſeeke him? Where you ſhall not find him, I'le buy, walke by your Noſes with my Fleſh, Sheepe-biting Mungrels, Hand-basket Free-booters, My Wife lyes in, a footra for Promoters.