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 0.75 · 487 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T3: doctor, master, cure, disease, pray, physic, physician, mr, sick, lady.
Of what Religion art thou? Of yours. When you were in France? French. Without there. Sir? Give this Gentleman five hundred Pistolets Be near us. In thy bosom, for thy Pistolets I'll give thee Pistols, in a piece might ha' been mine Thou shootest or mean'st to shoot, but I'll charge thine; Thy heart off goes it in thunder. Through the Gallery, Unseen convey him hither, give us leave sir. Leave have you— I'm glad to see your Majesty. You have reason. I was going to cry all hid. Come hither Dead man you'll justify this treason? To his teeth, Throat, mouth to mouth, body to body. So. Don Iohn of castille's come. A Chair, stand you Full here and stir not, front him, bring him in How, now, did a Hare cross your way? The Devil Doctor I'll give you a purge for this, I'll make Your Highness laugh. You must tickle me soundly then. In this retreat of mine from Court, my body (Which was before a clean stream) growing foul By my mind's trouble, through your high displeasure Which went to th' bottom of my heart; I called That sound Card to me, gave him fees and bid him (By all the fairest props that Art could rear) To keep my health from falling, which I felt Tottering and shaken, but my urinalist (As if he sat in barber-surgeon's Hall Reading Anatomy Lectures) left no Artery Unstretched upon the Tenters. So he vexed you to the guts. My bowels were his coniuring rooms, to quit him I tempted him to poison a great man, I knowing this my honourable friend— Keep back, he'll poison my glove else. Coming to visit me, This was the man must die. Why did you this? Only to hatch a jest on my pilled Doddy, I knew he durst not do't. But say he had? Then he had been hanged. That had made me more glad. I am bound to your Lordship. Being a Doctor you may lose yourself. men's lives then are your Balls, disarm him How! not all thy Kingdom can. How him in pieces, Our Guard, 'sdeath kill him. Are you in earnest? Look. See then, I put myself into your Den: What does the Lion now with me? thouart a traitor. I am none. No! Yes, an arrant traitor. You sir; spit all thy poison forth. No, I drank none sir. Come to your proofs, and see you put 'em home. You and I one day, being in conference, You named this noble King (my Sovereign) A tyrant, bid me strike, 'twas now my time, Spoke of a Piece charged, and of shooting off Of stirring up the Rascals to rebel, And to be short, to kill thee. I speak this! Yes Traitor, thou. Where! In your Chamber. Chamber! Was it not when you told me, that the King Had got a strumpet. Ha. How!
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 1186–1272 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 21 of 36 in this edition
Length
487 words · 669 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T3 — Sickness, physic and doctorscross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.749 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
seed 43: T3 · seed 44: T1 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Of what Religion art thou? Of yours. When you were in France? French. Without there. Sir? Giue this Gentleman fiue hundred Pistolets Be neere vs. In thy bosome, for thy Pistolets Ile giue thee Pistols, in a peece might ha beene mine Thou shoot'st or mean'st to shoot, but Ile charge thine; Thy heart off goes it in thunder. Through the Gallerie, Vnseene conuay him hither, giue vs leaue sir. Leaue haue you— I'm glad to see your Maiesty. You haue reason. I was going to cry all hid. Come hither Dead man you'l iustifie this treason? To his teeth, Throate, mouth to mouth, bodie to bodie. So. Don Iohn of Castile's come. A Chaire, stand you Full here and stirre not, front him, bring him in How, now, did a Hare crosse your way? The Diuell Doctor Ile giue you a purge for this, Ile make Your Highnesse laugh. You must tickle me soundly then. In this retreat of mine from Court, my bodie (Which was before a cleane streame) growing foule By my minds trouble, through your high displeasure Which went to th' bottome of my heart; I call'd That sound Card to me, gaue him fees and bid him (By all the fairest props that Art could reare) To keepe my health from falling, which I felt Tottering and shaken, but my Vrinalist (As if he sate in Barber-Surgions Hall Reading Anatomy Lectures) left no Artery Vnstretcht vpon the Tenters. So he vext you to the guts. My bowels were his coniuring roomes, to quit him I tempted him to poyson a great man, I knowing this my honourable friend— Keepe backe, hee'l poyson my gloue else. Comming to visit me, This was the man must die. Why did you this? Onely to hatch a jest on my pill'd Doddy, I knew he durst not doo't. But say he had? Then he had beene hang'd. That had made me more glad. I am bound to your Lordship. Being a Doctor you may loose your selfe. Mens liues then are your Balls, disarme him How! not all thy Kingdome can. How him in peeces, Our Guard, s'death kill him. Are you in earnest? Looke. See then, I put my selfe into your Den: What does the Lyon now with me? Th'art a traytor. I am none. No! Yes, an arrant traytor. You sir; spit all thy poyson forth. No, I dranke none sir. Come to your proofes, and see you put 'em home. You and I one day, being in conference, You nam'd this noble King (my Soveraigne) A tyrant, bid me strike, 'twas now my time, Spake of a Peece charg'd, and of shooting off Of stirrring vp the Rascals to rebell, And to be short, to kill thee. I speake this! Yes Traytor, thou. Where! In your Chamber. Chamber! Was it not when you told me, that the King Had got a strumpet. Ha. How!