2 The Honest Whore (2 The Converted Courtesan) · chunk 36 of 47
Dekker, Thomas · published 1630 · first performed or written 1605 [1604-c.1605] (Annals) comedy · Prince Henry's Men unassigned nearest T44 Drinking: wine, ale and taverns · 495 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T44: drink, wine, numps, ale, butler, pot, sing, moy, drunk, win.
We'll trouble your house (Matheo) but as Dutchmen do in Taverns (drink, be merry, and be gone.) Indeed if you be right Dutchmen, if you fall to drinking, you must be gone. The worst is, my wife is not at home; but we'll fly high (my generous Knight) for all that: there's no Music when a woman is in the consort. No, for she's like a pair of Virginals, Always with jacks at her tail. See, the covey is sprung. Save you Gallants. Happily encountered, sweet bloods. Gentlemen, you all know Signior Candido, the Linen Draper, he that's more patient than a brown Baker, upon the day when he heats his Oven, and has forty Scolds about him. Yes, we know him all, what of him? Would it not be a good fit of mirth, to make a piece of English cloth of him, and to stretch him on the Tainters, till the threads of his own natural humour crack, by making him drink healths, Tobacco, dance, sing bawdy songs, or to run any bias according as we think good to cast him? 'Twere a Morris dance worth the seeing. But the old Fox is so crafty, we shall hardly hunt out of his den. To that train I ha' given fire already; and the hook to draw him hither, is to see certain pieces of Lawn, which I told him I have to sell, and indeed have such: fetch them down, Pacheco. Yes, sir, I'm your water-spaniel, and will fetch any thing: but I'll fetch one dish of meat anon, shall turn your stomach, and that's a Constable. How now? how now? What Galley-foist is this? Peace, two dishes of stewed prunes, a Bawd and a Pander. My worthy Lieutenant Bots; why, now I see thouart a-man of thy word, welcome; welcome Mistress horseleech: Pray Gentlemen, salute this reverend Matron. Thanks to all your Worships. I-bade a Drawer send in wine too: did none come along with thee (Grannam) but the Lieutenant? None came along with me but Bots, if it like your Worship. Who the pox should come along with you but Bots? Oh brave! march fair. Are you come? that's well. Here's Ordnance able to sack a City. Come, repeat, read this Inventory. Imprimis, a pottle of Greek wine, a pottle of Peter sa meene, a pottle of Charnico, and a pottle of Ziattica. Y'are paid? Yes Sir. So shall some of us be anon, I fear. Here's a hot day towards: but zounds, this is the life out of which a Soldier sucks sweetness, when this Artillery goes off roundly, some must drop to the ground: Cannon, demi-canon, Saker, and basilisk. Give fire, Lieutenant. So, so: Must I venture first upon the breach? to you all, Gallants: Bots sets upon you all. Its hard (Bots) if we pepper not you, as well as you pepper us. My noble Linen Draper! Some wine: Welcome old Lad. Y'are welcome, Signior. These Lawns, sir?
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)
We'll trouble your house (Matheo) but as Dutchmen doe in Tauernes (drinke, be merry, and be gone.) Indeed if you be right Dutchmen, if you fall to drinking, you must be gone. The worst is, my wife is not at home; but we'll flie hie (my generous Knight) for all that: there's no Musike when a woman is in the consort. No, for she's like a paire of Virginals, Alwaies with Iackes at her taile. See, the Couy is sprung. Saue you Gallants. Happily encounterd, sweet bloods. Gentlemen, you all know Signior Candido, the Linnen Draper, he that's more patient then a browne Baker, vpon the day when he heates his Ouen, and has forty Scolds about him. Yes, we know him all, what of him? Wud it not be a good fit of mirth, to make a piece of English cloth of him, and to stretch him on the Tainters, till the threds of his owne naturall humor cracke, by making him drinke healths, Tobacco, dance, sing bawdy songs, or to run any bias according as we thinke good to cast him? 'Twere a Morris dance worth the seeing. But the old Fox is so crafty, we shall hardly hunt out of his den. To that traine I ha giuen fire already; and the hook to draw him hither, is to see certaine pieces of Lawne, which I told him I haue to sell, and indeed haue such: fetch them downe, Pacheco. Yes, sir, I'm your Water-spanniell, and will fetch any thing: but Ile fetch one dish of meat anon, shall turne your stomacke, and that's a Constable. How now? how now? What Gally-foist is this? Peace, two dishes of stew'd prunes, a Bawde and a Pander. My worthy Lieutenant Bots; why, now I see th'art a-man of thy word, welcome; welcome Mistris Horsleach: Pray Gentlemen, salute this reuerend Matron. Thankes to all your Worships. I-bade a Drawer send in wine too: did none come along with thee (Grannam) but the Lieutenant? None came along with me but Bots, if it like your Worship. Who the pox should come along with you but Bots? Oh braue! march faire. Are you come? that's well. Here's Ordnance able to sacke a Citty. Come, repeat, read this Inuentory. Imprimis, a pottle of Greeke wine, a pottle of Peter sa meene, a pottle of Charnico, and a pottle of Ziattica. Y'are paid? Yes Sir. So shall some of vs be anon, I feare. Here's a hot day towards: but zounds, this is the life out of which a Soldier sucks sweetnesse, when this Artillery goes off roundly, some must drop to the ground: Cannon, Demy-cannon, Saker, and Basalisk. Giue fire, Lieutenant. So, so: Must I venture first vpon the breach? to you all, Gallants: Bots sets vpon you all. Its hard (Bots) if we pepper not you, as well as you pepper vs. My noble Linnen Draper! Some wine: Welcome old Lad. Y'are welcome, Signior. These Lawnes, sir?