Jonson, Ben · published 1631 · first performed or written 1629 [licensed for stage, Jan 19] (Annals) comedy · King's Men T44 Drinking: wine, ale and taverns typicality 0.72 · 456 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T44: drink, wine, numps, ale, butler, pot, sing, moy, drunk, win.
YOu are welcome, welcome all, to the new Inn; Though the old house, we hope our cheer will win Your acceptation: we ha' the same Cook, Still, and the fat, who says, you sha' not look Long, for your bill of fare, but every dish Be served in, i'the time, and to your wish: If any thing be set to a wrong taste, 'Tis not the meat, there, but the mouth's displaced, Remove but that sick palate, all is well. For this, the secure dresser bad me tell, Nothing more hurts just meetings, than a crowd; Or, when the expectation's grown too loud: That the nice stomach, would ha' this or that, And being asked, or urged, it knows not what: When sharp, or sweet, have been too much a feast, And both out lived the palate of the guest. Beware to bring such appetites to the stage, They do confess a weak, sick, queasy age, And a shrewd grudging too of ignorance, When clothes and faces 'bove the men advance: Hear for your health, then, But at any hand, Before you judge, vouchsafe to understand, Concoct, digest: if then, it do not hit, Some are in a consumption of wit, Deep, he dares say, he will not think, that all— For Hectics are not epidemical. I Am not pleased, indeed, you are i'the right; Nor is my house pleased, if my sign could speak, The sign o'the light Heart. There, you may read it; So may your master too, if he look on't. A heart weighed with a feather, and out weighed too: A brain-child o'mine own! and I am proud on't! And if his worship think, here, to be melancholy, In spite of me or my wit, he is deceived; I will maintain the Rebus 'gainst all humours, And all complexions i'the body of Man, That's my word, or i'the Isle of Britain! You have reason good mine host. Sir I have rhyme too. Whether it be by chance or art, A heavy purse makes a light Heart. There 'tis expressed! first, by a purse of gold, A heavy purse, and then two Turtles, makes, A heart with a light stuck in't, a light heart! Old Abbot Islip could not invent better, Or Prior Bolton with his bolt and Tun. I am an Innkeeper, and know my grounds, And study 'em; Brain o'man, I study 'em: I must ha' jovial guests to drive my ploughs, And-whistling boys to bring my harvest home, Or I shall hear no Flails thwack. Here, your master, And you ha'been this fortnight, drawing fleas Out of my mats, and pounding 'em in cages Cut out of cards, & those roped round with packthread, Drawn thorough birdlime! a fine subtlety!
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)
YOu are welcome, welcome all, to the new Inne; Though the old house, we hope our cheare will win Your acceptation: we ha' the same Cooke, Still, and the fat, who sayes, you sha' not looke Long, for your bill of fare, but euery dish Be seru'd in, i'the time, and to your wish: If any thing be set to a wrong taste, 'Tis not the meat, there, but the mouth's displac'd, Remoue but that sick palat, all is well. For this, the secure dresser badd me tell, Nothing more hurts iust meetings, then a croud; Or, when the expectation's growne too loud: That the nice stomack, would ha' this or that, And being ask'd, or vrg'd, it knowes not what: When sharpe, or sweet, haue beene too much a feast, And both out liu'd the palate of the ghest. Beware to bring such appetites to the stage, They doe confesse a weake, sick, queasie age, And a shrew'd grudging too of ig norance, When clothes and faces' boue the men aduance: Heare for your health, then, But at any hand, Before you iudge, vouchsafe to vnderstand, Concoct, digest: if then, it doe not hit, Some are in a consumption of wit, Deepe, he dares say, he will not thinke, that all— For Hecticks are not epidemicall. I Am not pleas'd, indeed, you are i'the right; Nor is my house pleas'd, if my signe could speake, The signe o'the light Heart. There, you may read it; So may your master too, if he looke on't. A heart weigh'd with a fether, and out weigh'd too: A brayne-child o'mine owne! and I am proud on't! And if his worship thinke, here, to be melancholy, In spight of me or my wit, he is deceiu'd; I will maintayne the Rebus' gainst all humors, And all complexionsi'the body of Man, That's my word, or i'the Isle of Britaine! You haue reason good mine host. Sir I haue rime too. Whether it be by chance or art, A heauy purse makes a light Heart. There 'tis exprest! first, by a purse of gold, A heauy purse, and then two Turtles, makes, A heart with a light stuck in't, a light heart! Old Abbot Islip could not inuent better, Or Prior Bolton with his bolt and Ton. I am an Innekeeper, and know my grounds, And study 'hem; Brayne o'man, I study 'hem: I must ha' iouiall guests to driue my ploughs, And-whistling boyes to bring my haruest home, Or I shall hea no Flayles thwack. Here, your master, And you ha'beene this fornight, drawing fleas Out of my mattes, and pounding 'hem in cages Cut out of cards, & those rop'd round with pack-thred, Drawne thorow birdlime! a fine subtilty!