Jonson, Ben · published 1631 · first performed or written 1629 [licensed for stage, Jan 19] (Annals) comedy · King's Men unassigned nearest T41 Household service: masters, doors and po · 483 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T41: master, house, door, iohn, old, mistress, basket, lord, gentleman, ick.
My Lords, you both are welcome to the Heart. To the light heart we hope. And merry I swear. We never yet felt such a fit of laughter, As your glad heart hath offered us, sin' we entered. How came you by this property? who! my Fly! Your Fly if you call him so. nay, he is that. And will be still. In every dish and pot? In every Cup, and company, my Lords, A Creature of all liquours, all complexions, Be the drink what it will, he'll have his sip. He's fitted with a name. And he joys in't: I had him when I came to take the Inn, here, Assigned me over, in the Inventory, As an old implement, a piece of householdstuff, And so he doth remain. just such a thing, We thought him, Is he a scholar? Nothing less. But colours for it, as you see: wears black; And speaks a little tainted, fly-blown Latin, After the School. Of Stratford o' the Bow. For Lilies Latin, is to him unknown. What calling' he? Only to call in, still. Inflame the reckoning, bold to charge a bill, Bring up the shot i'the rear, as his own word is, And does it in the discipline of the house? As Corporal o' the field, Maestro del Campo, And visitor general, of all the room, He has formed a fine militia for the Inn too. And means to publish it? With all his titles. Some call him Deacon Fly, some Doctor Fly. Some Captain, some Lieutenant, But my folks Do call him Quartermaster, Fly, which he is. Come Quartermaster Fly. Here's one, already, Hath got his Titles. Doctor! Noble Colonel! No Doctor, yet. A poor professor of ceremony, Here i'the Inn, retainer to the host, I discipline the house. Thou readest a lecture. Unto the family here, when is the day? This is the day. I'll hear thee, and I'll ha'thee a Doctor, Thou shalt be one, thou hast a doctor's look! A face disputative, of Salamanca. Who's this? The glorious Colonel Tipto, Host, One talks upon his tiptoes, if you'll hear him. Thou hast good learning in thee, macte Fly. And I say macte, to my Colonel. Well macted of'em both. They are matched i'faith. But Fly, why macte? Quasi magis ancte, My honourable Colonel. What a critic? There's another accession, critic Fly. I fear a taint here i'the Mathematics. They say, lines parallel do never meet; He has met his parallel in wit, and school-craft. They side, not meet man, mend your metaphor, And save the credit of your Mathematics. But Fly, how cam'st thou to be here, committed Unto this Inn? Fly, Upon suspicion o'drink, Sir, I was taken late one night, here, with the Tapster, And the under-officers, and so deposited. I will redeem thee, Fly, and place thee better, With a fair Lady. A Lady, sweet Sir Glorious!
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)
My Lords, you both are welcome to the Heart. To the light heart we hope. And mery I sweare. We neuer yet felt such a fit of laughter, As your glad heart hath offerd vs, sin' we entred. How came you by this propertie? who! my Fly! Your Fly if you call him so. nay, he is that. And will be still. In euery dish and pot? In euery Cup, and company, my Lords, A Creature of all liquors, all complexions, Be the drinke what it will, hee'l haue his sip. He'is fitted with a name. And he ioyes in't: I had him when I came to take the Inne, here, Assign'd me ouer, in the Inuentory, As an old implement, a peice of houshold-stuffe, And so he doth remaine. Iust such a thing, We thought him, Is he a scholler? Nothing lesse. But colours for it, as you see: wear's black; And speakes a little taynted, fly-blowne Latin, After the Schoole. Of Stratford o' the Bow. For Lillies Latine, is to him vnknown. What calling has' he? Only to call in, still. Enflame the reckoning, bold to charge a bill, Bring vp the shot i'the reare, as his owne word is, And do's it in the discipline of the house? As Corporall o' the field, Maestro del Campo, And visiter generall, of all the roome, He has' form'd a fine militia for the Inne too. And meanes to publish it? With all his titles. Some call him Deacon Fly, some Doctor Fly. Some Captaine, some Leiutenant, But my folkes Doe call him Quarter-master, Fly, which he is. Come Quarter-master Fly. Here's one, already, Hath got his Titles. Doctor! Noble Colonel! No Doctor, yet. A poore professor of ceremony, Here i'the Inne, retainer to the host, I discipline the house. Thou read'st a lecture. Vnto the family here, when is the day? This is the day. I'le heare thee, and I'le ha'thee a Doctour, Thou shalt be one, thou hast a Doctors looke! A ace disputatiue, of Salamanca. Who's this? The glorious Colonel Tipto, Host, One talkes vpon his tiptocs, if you'l heare him. Thou hast good learning in thee, macte Fly. And I say macte, to my Colonel. Well macted of'hem both. They are match'd i'saith. But Fly, why macte? Quasi magis acte, My honourable Colonel. What a Critique? There's another accession, Critique Fly. I feare a taynt here i'the Mathematiques. They say, lines paralell doe neuer meet; He has met his paralell in wit, and schole-craft. They side, not meet man, mend your metaphor, And saue the credit of your Mathematiques. But Fly, how cam'st thou to be here, committed Vnto this Inne? Fly, Vpon suspicion o'drinke, Sir, I was taken late one night, here, with the Tapster, And the vnder-officers, and so deposited. I will redeeme thee, Fly, and place thee better, With a faire Lady. A Lady, sweet Sir Glorious!