Jonson, Ben · published 1631 · first performed or written 1629 [licensed for stage, Jan 19] (Annals) comedy · King's Men unassigned nearest T44 Drinking: wine, ale and taverns · 483 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T44: drink, wine, numps, ale, butler, pot, sing, moy, drunk, win.
The wine, come coz, I'll talk with you anon. Do, lose no time, good quartermaster. There are the horse, come, Fly. Charge, in Boys, in; Lieutenant o'the ordinance. Tobacco, & pipes. Who's that? Old Iordan, good! A comely vessel, and a necessary. New-scoured he is: Here's to thee, Martial Fly. In milk, my young anon says. Cream o'the grape! That dropped from Iuno's breasts, and sprung the Lily! I can recite your fables, Here is, too, The blood of Venus, mother o'the Rose! The dinner is gone up. I hear the whistle. ay, and the fiddlers. We must all go wait. Pox of'is waiting, Quarter Master, Fly. When Chambermaids are sovereigns, wait their Ladies. Fly scorns to breath. or blow upon them, he. Old Parcel Peck! Art thou there? how now? lame Yes faith: it is ill halting afore cripples, I ha' got a dash of a jade, here, will stick by me. O you have had some fantasy, fellow Peck, Some revelation— What? To steal the hay, Out o'the racks again: I told him so, When the guests backs were turned. Or bring pe The bottom upwards, heaped with oats; and cry. Here's the best measure upon all the road! when You know the guest, put in his hand, to feel, And smell to the oats, that grated all his fingers upo'the wood— Mum! And found out your cheat. I ha'been i'the cellar, Pierce. You were then, there, upo' your knees; I do remember it: To ha'the fact concealed. I could tell more, soaping of saddles, cutting of horse tails, And cropping— pranks of ale, and hostelry— Which he cannot forget, he says, young Knight: No more than you can other deeds of darkness, Done i'the cellar. Well said, bold professor. We shall ha'some truth explained. We are all mortal, And have our visions. Truly it seems to me That every horse has his whole peck, and tumbles p to the eares in littour, When, indeed There's no such matter; not a smell of provender. Not so much straw as would tie up a horse-tail! Nor any thing i'the rack, but two old cob webs! And so much rotten hay, as had been a hen's riest! And yet he's ever apt to sweep the mangers! But puts in nothing. These are fits, and fancies, Which you must leave, good Peck. And you must pray t may be reueal'd to you, at some-times, Whose horse you ought to cozen; with what conscience; The how; and when; a parson's horse may suffer— Who's master's double beneficed; put in that. A little greasing i'the teeth; 'tis wholesome: And keeps him in a sober shuffle. His saddle too May want a stirrup. And, it may be sworn, His learning lay o' one side, and so broke it. They have ever oats i'their cloak-bags, to affront us. And therefore 'tis an office meritorious, To tith such soundly.
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)
The wine, come Cosse, Ile talk with you anone. Doe, loose no time, good Quarter-Master. There are the horse, come, Flie. Charge, in Boyes, in; Lieutenant o'the ordinance. Tobacco, & pipes. Who's that? Old Iordan, good! A comely vessell, and a necessary. New-scour'd he is: Here's to thee, Martiall Fly. In milke, my yong Anone sayes. Cream o'the grape! That drop't from Iuno's breasts, and sprung the Lilly! I can recite your fables, Here is, too, The blood of Venus, mother o'the Rose! The dinner is gone vp. I heare the whistle. I, and the fidlers. We must all goe waite. Pox o'this waiting, Quarter Master, Fly. When Chambermaids are soueraignes, waite their Ladi Fly scornes to breath. or blow vpon thē, he. Old Parcel Peck! Art thou there? how now? lam Yes faith: it is ill halting afore criples, I ha' got a dash of a Iade, here, will stick by me. O you haue had some phant'sie, fellow Peck, Some reuelation— What? To steale the hay, Out o'the racks againe: I told him so, When the ghests backs were turn'd. Or bring pe The bottome vpwards, heap'd with oates; and cry. Here's the best measure vpon all the roade! when You know the ghest, put in his hand, to feele, And smell to the oates, that grated all his fingers Vpo'the wood— Mum! And foūd out your I ha'bin i'the cellar, Peirce. You were th there, Vpo' your knees; I doe remember it: To ha'the fact conceald. I could tell more, Soping of saddles, cutting of horse tailes, And cropping—pranks of ale, and hostelry— Which he cannot forget, he sayes, yong Knight: No more then you can other deeds of darknesse, Done i'the cellar. Well said, bold professor. We shall ha'some truth explain'd. We are all mortall, And haue our visions. Truly it seemes to me That euery horse has his whole peck, and tumbles p to the eares in littour, When, indeed There's no such matter; not a smell of prouander. Not so much straw as would tie vp a horse-taile! Nor any thing i'the rack, but two old cob webs! nd so much rotten hay, as had beene a hens riest! And yet he's euer apt to sweepe the mangers! But puts in nothing. These are fits, and fancies, Which you must leaue, good Peck. And you must pray t may be reueal'd to you, at some-times, Whose hōrse you ought to cosen; with what conscience; The how; and when; a Parsons horse may suffer— Who's master's double benefic'd; put in that. A little greasing i'the teeth; 'tis wholesome: And keepes him in a sober shuffle. His saddle too May want a stirrop. And, it may be sworne, His learning lay o' one side, and so broke it. They haue euer oates i'their cloake-bags, to affront vs. And therefore 'tis an office meritorious, To tith such soundly.