Jonson, Ben · published 1631 · first performed or written 1629 [licensed for stage, Jan 19] (Annals) comedy · King's Men unassigned nearest T47 Knaves, thieves and bawds · 511 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T47: knave, rogue, money, knaves, thief, rogues, pray, whore, nichol, book.
But if I be no such; who then's the Rogue, In understanding, Sir, I mean? who errs? Who tinkleth then? or personates Thom. Tinker? Your weasel here may tell you I talk bawdy, And teach my boy it; and you may believe him: But Sir at your own peril, if I do not: And at his too, if he do lie, and affirm it. No slander strikes, less hurts, the innocent: If I be honest, and that all the cheat Be, of myself, in keeping this Light Heart, Where, I imagine all the world's a Play; The state, and men's affairs, all passages Of life, to spring new, scenes come in, go out, And shift, and vanish; and if I have got A seat, to sit at ease here, i'mine Inn, To see the Comedy; and laugh, and chuck At the variety, and throng of humours, And dispositions, that come justling in, And out still, as they one drove hence another: Why, will you envy me my happiness? Because you are sad, and lumpish; carry a Load stone I'your pocket, to hang knives on; or let-rings, T'entice light straws to leap at 'em: are not taken With the alacrities of an host! 'Tis more, And justlier, Sir, my wonder, why you took My house up, fiddler's Hall, the Seat of noise, And mirth, an Inn here, to be drowsy in, And lodge your lethargy in the Light Heart, As if some cloud from Court had been your Harbinger, Or Cheapside debt-books, or some Mistress charge, Seeing your love grow corpulent, gi' it a diet, By absence some, such mouldy passion! 'Tis guessed unhappily. Mine host, yo'are called. I come, boys. Ferret have not you been ploughing With this mad Ox, mine host? nor he with you? For what Sir? Why, to find my riddle out. I hope, you do believe, Sir, I can find Other discourse to be at, than my Master With Hosts, and Hostlers. If you can, 'tis well. Go down, and see, who they are come in, what guests; And bring me word. O love, what passion art thou! So tyrannous! and treacherous! first t'enslave, And then betray, all that in truth do serve thee! That not the wisest, nor the wariest creature, Can more dissemble thee, than he can bear Hot burning coals, in his bare palm, or bosom! And less, conceal, or hide thee, than a flash Of inflamed powder, whose whole light doth lay it Open, to all discovery, even of those, Who have but half an eye, and less of nose! An Host, to find me! who is, commonly, The log, a little o' this side the signpost! Or, at the best, some round grown thing! a jug, Faced, with a beard, that fills out to the guests, And takes in, fro' the fragments o'their jests? But, I may wrong this, out of sullenness, Or my mistaking humour? Pray thee, fantasy, Be laid, again. And, gentle-Melancholy, Do not oppress me. I will be as silent, As the tame lover should be, and as foolish.
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)
But if I be no such; who then's the Rogue, In vnderstanding, Sir, I meane? who erres? Who tinkleth then? or personates Thom. Tinker? Your weazill here may tell you I talke baudy, And teach my boy it; and you may beleeue him: But Sir at your owne peril, if I doe not: And at his too, if he doe lie, and affirme it. No slander strikes, lesse hurts, the innocent: If I be honest, and that all the cheat Be, of my selfe, in keeping this Light Heart, VVhere, I imagine all the world's a Play; The state, and mens affaires, all passages Of life, to spring new, scenes come in, goe out, And shift, and vanish; and if I haue got A seat, to sit at ease here, i'mine Inne, To see the Comedy; and laugh, and chuck At the variety, and throng of humors, And dispositions, that come iustling in, And out still, as they one droue hence another: VVhy, will you enuy me my happinesse? Because you are sad, and lumpish; carry a Lade stone I'your pocket, to hang kniues on; or letrings, T'entice light strawes to leape at 'hem: are not taken VVith the alacrities of an host! 'Tis more, And iustlier, Sir, my wonder, why you tooke My house vp, Fidlers Hall, the Seate of noyse, And mirth, an Inne here, to be drousie in, And lodge your lethargie in the Light Heart, As if some cloud from Court had beene your Harbinger, Or Cheape-side debt-Bookes, or some Mistresse charge, Seeing your loue grow corpulent, gi' it a dyet, By absence some, such mouldy passion! 'Tis guess'd vnhappily. Mine host, yo'are cal'd. I come, boyes. Ferret haue not you bin ploughing VVith this mad Oxe, mine host? nor he with you? For what Sir? VVhy, to finde my riddle out. I hope, you doe beleeue, Sir, I can finde Other discourse to be at, then my Master With Hostes, and Host'lers. If you can, 'tis well. Goe downe, and see, who they are come in, what ghests; And bring me word. O loue, what passion art thou! So tyrannous! and trecherous! first t'en-slaue, And then betray, all that in truth do serue thee! That not the wisest, nor the wariest creature, Can more dissemble thee, then he can beare Hot burning coales, in his bare palme, or bosome! And lesse, conceale, or hide thee, then a flash Of enflam'd powder, whose whole light doth lay it Open, to all discouery, euen of those, Who haue but halfe an eye, and lesse of nose! An Host, to find me! who is, commonly, The log, a little o' this side the signe-post! Or, at the best, some round growne thing! a Iug, Fac'd, with a beard, that fills out to the ghests, And takes in, fro' the fragments o'their iestes? But, I may wrong this, out of sullennes, Or my mis-taking humor? Pray thee, phant'sie, Be lay'd, againe. And, gentle-Melancholy, Do not oppresse me. I will be as silent, As the tame louer should be, and as foolish.