Dekker, Thomas · published 1631 · first performed or written 1611 [c.1611-c.1613; re-licensed for stage, Aug 21, 1623] (Annals) tragicomedy · Red Bull (Revels) Company (first) · Red Bull T3 Sickness, physic and doctors typicality 0.83 · 509 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T3: doctor, master, cure, disease, pray, physic, physician, mr, sick, lady.
But i'th' next morning, I could not in a Russian stove sweat more Than I did in my Bed. Marry I'm glad on't. And had no clothes upon me. Still the better. My bones Sir paid for all this, and yet you cry, still the better: when you ha' purged your pockets full of gold out of a Patient, and then nailed him in's Coffin, you cry then still the better too, a man were better to lie under the hands of a Hangman, than one of your rebarbative faces; sirrah Doctor, I do not think but I have been well, all this time I have been Sick? Oh my good Lord. Oh good Master Doctor, come no more of this, I have another Diaphragma for you to tickle, you minister poison in some Medicines, do you not? Yes my good Lord, in Purgative and Expulsive. So, so, break not my head with your hard words, you can for a need poison a Great man? Your Lordship's merry. Right Sir, but I must have it done in sadness, 'tis your Trade Master Doctor to send men packing: hark you, 'tis no less Bugbear than Don Valasco! The Admiral of Castille! Him you must sink. 'Tis my certain death to do it. And thy certain death to deny it, if you will not show him a cast of your Office, I'll be so bold, as bestow this upon you of mine, I am sharp set, will you do it? I will by these two hands. When? When you please. This day? This hour. And make him fast. Fast. For speaking. For speaking. Why then good Doctor rise To honour by, it be secret and be wise. The Admiral is come my Lord. A way with these, show him the way in, Doctor. Oh my Lord! If you fail. All health to your good Lordship, I wish that, Which most I think you want. Thanks my good Lord, Doctor dispatch, take heed your Compositions, Hit as I told you. Oh my Lord, I am beaten to these things. Go then, this visitation of your Lordship, I take most kindly. Two main wheels my Lord, Have hither brought me, on the king's Command, tother my love, with a desire to know Why I 'mongst all the trees that spread itt'h Court Should still be smote with lightning from your eye; Yours only dangerous Arrows shoots at me: You have the courtier's dialect right, your tongue Walks ten miles from your heart, when last you saw me, Do you remember how you threatened; as for you Sir— These notes are strange. Oh my good Lord, be my good Lord, I read Harsh Lectures in your face, but meet no Comment That can dissolve the riddle, unless it be Out of that noble fashion that great men Must trip some heels up, though they stand as low As Vintners when they conjure, only to show Their skill in wrestling, 'tis not well to strike A man whose hands are bound, like should choose like.
1611 [c.1611-c.1613; re-licensed for stage, Aug 21, 1623]
First performance (BritDrama)
1621 [1621-1622]
Company (BritDrama)
Red Bull (Revels) Company (first)
Theater
Red Bull;Phoenix/Cockpit;Indoor Professional;Outdoor Professional
Genre (British Drama)
tragicomedy
Play type
Adult Professional;Professional
Edition / TCP / DEEP
edition 953 · TCP A20088 · DEEP 764
Edition role
Representative edition — used in the analysis
Position
nodes 850–907 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 16 of 36 in this edition
Length
509 words · 663 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T3 — Sickness, physic and doctorscross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.828 (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)
But i'th next morning, I could not in a Russian stoue sweat more Then I did in my Bed. Marry I'me glad on't. And had no clothes vpon me. Still the better. My bones Sir pay'd for all this, and yet you cry, still the better: when you ha' purg'd your pockets full of gold out of a Patient, and then nayl'd him in's Coffin, you cry then still the better too, a man were better to lye vnder the hands of a Hangman, than one of your rubarbatiue faces; sirrha Doctor, I doe not thinke but I haue beene well, all this time I haue beene Sicke? Oh my good Lord. Oh good Master Doctor, come no more of this, I haue another Diaphragma for you to tickle, you minister poyson in some Medicines, doe you not? Yes my good Lord, in Purgatiue and Expulsiue. So, so, breake not my head with your hard words, you can for a need poyson a Great man? Your Lordship's merry. Right Sir, but I must haue it done in sadnesse, 'tis your Trade Master Doctor to send men packing: harke you, 'tis no lesse Bug-beare then Don Valasco! The Admirall of Castile! Him you must sincke. 'Tis my certaine death to doe it. And thy certaine death to deny it, if you will not shew him a cast of your Office, Ile be so bold, as bestow this vpon you of mine, I am sharpe set, will you doe it? I will by these two hands. When? When you please. This day? This hower. And make him fast. Fast. For speaking. For speaking. Why then good Doctor rise To honour by, it be secret and be wise. The Admirall is come my Lord. A way with these, show him the way in, Doctor. Oh my Lord! If you faile. All health to your good Lordship, I wish that, Which most I thinke you want. Thankes my good Lord, Doctor dispatch, take heed your Compositions, Hit as I told you. Oh my Lord, I am beaten to these things. Goe then, this visitation of your Lordship, I take most kindly. Two maine wheeles my Lord, Haue hither brought mee, on the Kings Command, To'ther my loue, with a desire to know Why I mong'st all the trees that spread it'h Court Should still be smote with lightening from your eye; Yours onely dangerous Arrowes shootes at me: You haue the Courtiers dialect right, your tongue Walkes ten miles from your heart, when last you saw me, Doe you remember how you threaten'd; as for you Sir— These notes are strange. Oh my good Lord, be my good Lord, I read Harsh Lectures in your face, but meet no Comment That can dissolue the riddle, vnlesse it be Out of that noble fashion that great men Must trip some heeles vp, tho they stand as low As Vintners when they coniure, onely to shew Their skill in wrastling, 'tis not well to strike A man whose hands are bound, like should chuse like.