2 The Honest Whore (2 The Converted Courtesan) · chunk 38 of 47
Dekker, Thomas · published 1630 · first performed or written 1605 [1604-c.1605] (Annals) comedy · Prince Henry's Men unassigned nearest T30 Constables, justices and the watch · 495 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T30: constable, squire, tub, clay, worship, justice, turf, mr, hun, valentine.
How now? Is't Shrove-tuesday, that these Ghosts walk. What's your business, Sir? From the Duke: you are the man we look for, Signior, I have Warrant here from the Duke, to apprehend you upon felony for robbing two Pedlars: I charge you i'th' Duke's name go quickly. Is the wind turned? well: this is that old Wolf, my Father-in-law: seek out your Mistress, Sirrah. Yes, Sir: as shafts by piecing are made strong, So shall thy life be straightened by this wrong. In troth we are sorry. Brave men must be crossed, pish, it's but Fortune's Dice roving against me: Come, sir, pray use me like a Gentleman, let me not be carried through the streets like a Pageant. If these Gentlemen please, you shall go along with them. Be't so: come. What are you, sir? ay, sir? sometimes a figure, sometimes a cipher, as the State has occasion to cast up her accounts: I'm a Soldier. Your name is Bots, is't not? Bots is my name, Bots is known to this Company. I know you are, Sir: what's she? A Gentlewoman, my Mother. Take 'em both along. Me? sir. And sir. If he swagger, raise the street. Gentlemen, Gentlemen, whither will you drag us? To the Garden house. Bots, are we even with you? To Bridewell with 'em. You will answer this. Better then a challenge, I have warrant for my work, sir. we'll go before. Pray do. Who, Signior Candido? a Citizen of your degree consorted thus, and revelling in such a house? Why, sir? what house I pray? Lewd, and defamed. Is't so? thanks, sir: I'm gone. What have you there? Lawns which I bought, sir, of the Gentleman that keeps the house. And I have warrant here, to search for such stolen Ware: these Lawns are stolen. Indeed! So he's the Thief, you the Receiver: I'm sorry for this chance, I must commit you. Me, sir, for what? These Goods are found upon you, and you must answer't. Must I so? Most certain. I'll send for Bail. I dare not: yet because you are a Citizen of worth, you shall not be made a pointing stock, but without Guard pass only with myself. To Bridewell too? No remedy. Yes, patience: being not mad, they had me once to Bedlam, Now I'm drawn to Bridewell, loving no Whores. You will buy Lawn?— Yonder's the Lord Hipollito, by any means leave him and me together: Now will I turn him to a Madman. Save you, my Lord. I ha strange news to tell you. What are they? Your mere's i'th' pound. How's this? Your Nightingale is in a Limebush. Ha? Your Puritanical Honest Whore sits in a blue gown. Blue Gown! She'll chalk out your way to her now: she beats chalk. Where, who dares? Do you know the Brick-house of Castigation, by the riverside that runs by Milan: the School where they pronounce no letter well but O? I know it not.
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)
How now? Is't Shroue-tuesday, that these Ghosts walke. What's your businesse, Sir? From the Duke: you are the man wee looke for, Signior, I haue Warrant here from the Duke, to apprehend you vpon fellony for robbing two Pedlers: I charge you i'th Dukes name goe quickly. Is the winde turn'd? well: this is that old Wolfe, my Father-in-law: seeke out your Mistris, Sirra. Yes, Sir: as shafts by piecing are made strong, So shall thy life be straightned by this wrong. In troth we are sorry. Braue men must bee crost, pish, it's but Fortunes Dice rouing against me: Come, sir, pray vse me like a Gentleman, let me not be carried through the streets like a Pageant. If these Gentlemen please, you shall goe along with them. Bee't so: come. What are you, sir? I, sir? sometimes a figure, sometimes a cipher, as the State has occasion to cast vp her accounts: I'm a Soldier. Your name is Bots, is't not? Bots is my name, Bots is knowne to this Company. I know you are, Sir: what's she? A Gentlewoman, my Mother. Take em both along. Me? Sirrr. And Sirrr. If he swagger, raise the street. Gentlemen, Gentlemen, whither will you drag vs? To the Garden house. Bots, are we euen with you? To Bridewell with em. You will answer this. Better then a challenge, I haue warrant for my worke, sir. Wee'll goe before. Pray doe. Who, Signior Candido? a Cittizen of your degree consorted thus, and reuelling in such a house? Why, sir? what house I pray? Lewd, and defamed. Is't so? thankes, sir: I'm gone. What haue you there? Lawnes which I bought, sir, of the Gentleman that keepes the house. And I haue warrant here, to search for such stolne Ware: these Lawnes are stolne. Indeed! So he's the Thiefe, you the Receiuer: I'm sorry for this chance, I must commit you. Me, sir, for what? These Goods are found vpon you, and you must answer't. Must I so? Most certaine. Ile send for Bayle. I dare not: yet because you are a Cittizen of worth, you shall not be made a pointing stocke, but without Guard passe onely with my selfe. To Bridewell too? No remedy. Yes, patience: being not mad, they had mee once to Bedlam, Now I'm drawne to Bridewell, louing no Whores. You will buy Lawne?— Yonder's the Lord Hipollito, by any meanes leaue him and me together: Now will I turne him to a Madman. Saue you, my Lord. I ha strange newes to tell you. What are they? Your Mare's i'th pound. How's this? Your Nightingale is in a Limebush. Ha? Your Puritanicall Honest Whore sits in a blue gowne. Blue Gowne! She'll chalke out your way to her now: she beats chalke. Where, who dares? Doe you know the Bricke-house of Castigation, by the Riuer side that runnes by Millan: the Schoole where they pronounce no letter well but O? I know it not.