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 · 490 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T41: master, house, door, iohn, old, mistress, basket, lord, gentleman, ick.
A politic Baggage, She makes us swear to keep it, I prithee look what market she hath made. Imprimis Sir, a good fat loin of Mutton, What comes next under this Cloth? Now for a quarter of Lamb. Not for a Shoulder of Mutton. Done. Why done Sir. By the mass I feel I have lost, 'Tis of more weight i'faith. Some loin of veal? No faith, here's a Lamb's Head, I feel that plainly, why yet win my wager. Ha? 'swounds what's here? A Child. A Pox of all dissembling cunning Whores. Here's an unlucky Breakfast. What shall's do? The Quean made us swear to keep it too. We might leave it else. Villainous strange, 'Life had she none to gull, but poor Promoters, That watch hard for a living. Half our gettings must run in sugar-soap, And Nurse's wages now, besides many a pound of Soap, And Tallow, we have need to get Loins of Mutton still, To save Suet to change for Candles. Nothing mads me, but this was a Lamb's head with you, you felt it, she has made calf's heads of us. prithee no more on't, There's time to get it up, it is not come To Mid-Lent Sunday yet. I am so angry, I'll watch no more today. Faith nor I neither. Why then I'll make a motion. Well, what is't? Let's e'en go to the Chequer at Queen-hive and roast the loin of Mutton, till young Flood, then send the Child to Branford. 'Tis a busy day at our House Davy. Always the Kursning day Sir. truss, truss me Davy. No matter and you were hanged Sir. How does this Suit fit me Davy? Excellent neatly, my Master's things were ever fit for you Sir, e'en to a Hair you know. Thou hast hit it right Davy, We ever jumped in one, this ten years Davy, So well said, what art thou? Your comfit-maker's Man Sir. O sweet youth, into the Nurse quick, Quick, 'tis time i'faith, Your Mistress will be here? She was setting forth Sir. Here comes our Gossips now, O I shall have such kissing work today, Sweet Mistress Underman welcome i'faith. Give you joy of your fine Girl Sir, Grant that her education may be pure, And become one of the faithful. Thanks to your Sisterly wishes Mr Underman. Are any of the Brothers' Wives yet come? There are some Wives within, and some at home. Verily thanks Sir. Verily you are an Ass forsooth, I must sit all these times, or there's no Music, Here comes a friendly and familiar payer, Now I like these Wenches well. How dost sirrah? Faith well I thank you Neighbour, and how dost thou? Want nothing, but such getting Sir as thine. My gettings wench, they are poor. Fie that thou'lt say so, thoust as fine Children as a Man can get. I as a Man can get, And that's my Master.
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)
A politike Baggage, She makes vs ſweare to keepe it, I prethe looke what market ſhe hath made. Imprimis Sir, a good fat Loyne of Mutton, What comes next vnder this Cloath? Now for a quarter of Lambe. Not for a Shoulder of Mutton. Done. Why done Sir. By the maſſe I feele I haue loſt, 'Tis of more weight I faith. Some Loyne of Veale? No faith, here's a Lambes Head, I feele that plainly, why yet win my wager. Ha? Swounds what's here? A Child. A Poxe of all diſſembling cunning Whores. Here's an vnlucky Breakefaſt. What ſhal's doe? The Queane made vs ſweare to keepe it too. We might leaue it elſe. Villanous ſtrange, 'Life had ſhe none to gull, but poore Promoters, That watch hard for a liuing. Halfe our gettings muſt run in Suger-ſope, And Nurſes wages now, beſides many a pound of Sope, And Tallow, we haue need to get Loynes of Mutton ſtill, To ſaue Suet to change for Candles. Nothing mads me, but this was a Lamb head with you, you felt it, ſhe has made Calues heads of vs. Prethe no more on't, There's time to get it vp, it is not come To Mid-Lent Sunday yet. I am ſo angry, I'le watch no more to day. Faith nor I neither. Why then I'le make a motion. Well, what iſt? Let's e'ne goe to the Checker at Queene-hiue and roſt the Loyne of Mutton, till young Flood, then ſend the Child to Branford. 'Tis a buſie day at our Houſe Dauy. Alwayes the Kurſning day Sir. Truſſe, truſſe me Dauy. No matter and you were hang'd Sir. How do's this Sute fit me Dauy? Excellent neatly, my Maſters things were euer fit for you Sir, e'ne to a Haire you know. Thou haſt hit it right Dauy, We euer iumpt in one, this ten yeeres Dauy, So well ſaid, what art thou? Your Comfit-makers Man Sir. O ſweet youth, into the Nurſe quicke, Quicke, 'tis time I faith, Your Miſtris will be here? She was ſetting forth Sir. Here comes our Goſſips now, O I ſhall haue ſuch kiſſing worke to day, Sweet Miſtris Ʋnderman welcome I faith. Giue you ioy of your fine Girle Sir, Grant that her education may be pure, And become one of the faithfull. Thankes to your Siſterly wiſhes Mr Ʋnderman. Are any of the Brethrens Wiues yet come? There are ſome Wiues within, and ſome at home. Verily thankes Sir. Verily you are an Aſſe forſooth, I muſt ſit all theſe times, or there's no Muſicke, Here comes a friendly and familier payer, Now I like theſe Wenches well. How do'ſt ſirra? Faith well I thanke you Neighbor, and how do'ſt thou? Want nothing, but ſuch getting Sir as thine. My gettings wench, they are poore. Fye that thou'lt ſay ſo, Th'aſt as fine Children as a Man can get. I as a Man can get, And that's my Maſter.