Jonson, Ben · published 1631 · first performed or written 1629 [licensed for stage, Jan 19] (Annals) comedy · King's Men unassigned nearest T6 Money, debt and credit · 487 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T6: money, master, pound, law, lawyer, chain, gentleman, gold, pay, pray.
Nay, I am so resolved, as still I'll love Tho' not confess it. That's, Sir, as it chances: we'll throw the dice for it: Cheer up. I do. Come wench, this suit will serve: dispatch, make ready. It was a great deal with the biggest for me; Which made me leave it off after once wearing. How does it fit? willt come together? hardly. Thou must make shift with it. Pride feels no pain. Girt thee hard, Pox o' this errand Taylour, He angers me beyond all mark of patience. These base Mechanics never keep their word, In any thing they promise. Pru. 'Tis their trade, madam; To swear and break, they all grow rich by breaking, More than their words; their honesties, and credits, Are still the first commodity they put off. And worst, it seems, which makes them do't so often. If he had but broke with me, I had not cared, But, with the company, the body politic- Frustrate our whole design, having that time, And the materials in so long before? And he to fail in all, and disappoint us? The rogue deserves a torture- To be cropped With his own Scissors. Let's devise him one. And ha' the stumps seared up with his own searing candle? Close to his head, to trundle on his pillow? Ple ha' the Leasse of his house cut out in measures. And he be strangled with 'em? No, no life I would ha' touched, but stretched on his own yard He should be a little, ha' the strappado? Or an ell of taffeta Drawn thorough his guts, by way of glister, & fired With aqua vitae? Burning i'the hand With the pressing iron cannot save him. Yes, Now I have got this on: I do forgive him, What robes he should ha' brought. Thou art not cruel, Although straitlaced, I see, Pru! This is well. 'Tis rich enough! But 'tis not what I meant thee! I would ha' had thee braver than myself, And brighter far. 'Twill fit the Players yet, When thou hast done with it, and yield thee somewhat. That were illiberal, madam, and mere sordid In me, to let a suit of yours come there. Tut, all are Players, and but serve the Scene. Pru, Dispatch; I fear thou dost not like the province, Thou art so long a fitting thyself for it. Here is a Scarf, to make thee a knot finer. You send me a feasting, madame. Wear it wench Yes. but, with leave o'your Ladyship, I would tell you This can but bear the face of an odd journey. Why Pru? A Lady of your rank and quality, To come to a public Inn, so many men, Young Lords, and others, i'your company! And not a woman but myself, a Chambermaid! Thou doubt'st to be overlaid Pru? Fear it not, I le bear my part, and share with thee, i'the venture.
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)
Nay, I am so resolu'd, as still Ile loue Tho' not confesse it. That's, Sir, as it chances: Wee'll throw the dice for it: Cheare vp. I doe. Come wench, this sute will serue: dispatch, make ready. It was a great deale with the biggest for me; Which made me leaue it off after once wearing. How do's it fit? wilt come together? hardly. Thou must make shift with it. Pride feeles no pain Girt thee hard, Pox o' this errand Taylour, He angers me beyond all marke of patience. These base Mechanicks neuer keepe their word, In any thing they promise. Pru. 'Tis their trade, madam; To sweare and breake, they all grow rich by breaking, More then their words; their honesties, and credits, Are still the first commodity they put off. And worst, it seemes, which makes hem do't so often. If he had but broke with me, I had not car'd, But, with the company, the body politique- Frustrate our whole designe, hauing that time, And the materials in so long before? And he to faile in all, and disappoint vs? The rogue deserues a torture- To be crop'd With his owne Scizzer. Let's deuise him one. And ha' the stumpssear'd vp with his owne searing candle? Close to his head, to trundle on his pillow? Ple ha' the Leasse of his house cut out in measures. And he be strangl'd with 'hem? No, no life I would ha'touch't, but stretch'd on his owne yard He shold be alittle, ha' the strappad? Or an ell of taffata Drawne thorow his guts, by way of glister, & fir'd With aqua vitae? Burning i'the hand With the pressing iron cannot saue him. Yes, Now I haue got this on: I doe forgiue him, What robes he should ha' brought. Thou art not cruell, Although streight-lac'd, I see, Pru! This is well. 'Tis rich enough! But 'tis not what I meant thee! I would ha' had thee brauer then my selfe, And brighter farre. 'Twill fit the Players yet, When thou hast done with it, and yeeld thee somwhat. That were illiberall, madam, and mere sordid In me, to let a sute of yours come there. Tut, all are Players, and but serue the Scene. Pru, Dispatch; I feare thou dost not like the prouince, Thou art so long a fitting thy selfe for it. Here is a Scarfe, to make thee a knot finer. You send me a feasting, madame. Weare it wenc Yes. but, with leaue o'your Ladiship, I would tel you This can but beare the face of an odde iourney. Why Pru? A Lady of your ranke and quality, To come to a publique Inne, so many men, Yong Lords, and others, i'your company! And not a woman but my selfe, a Chamber-maid! Thou doubt'st to be ouer-layd Pru? Feare it not, I le beare my part, and share with thee, i'theventer.