Fletcher, Phineas · published 1631 · first performed or written 1615 [Mar 13] (Annals) pastoral · at University unassigned nearest T57 Ships, merchants and pirates · 532 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T57: ship, sea, master, sail, home, money, pisaro, life, ships, till.
O the ork the huge huntie-puntie. Up cancrone I tell thee we have scaped him. I tell thee Sirocca we have not scaped him, he has eat us up These fishers are new returned from fishing, and know not that Atyches has slain the ork, I'll ork them. Ah Sirocca I would this Ork were in Neptune's belly, that will suffer such a worm to live in his dominions, I am a very macherell if the very name be not worse to me then, three nights cold fishing. methinks I am colder too than I was before. Let me strike then before the iron be key cold What hardy fishers dare approach this shore Untrod by men this twenty years and more. Good now Conchylio do not the Norke we did eat the golden apples; we. What old Cancrone? I am sorry for your chance The best that I advise you is that you return round about the Cape presently before the Ork smell you (if he were within twelve score he might wind them) foh. Nay I shall be devoured. Pluck out a good heart man. If I could do so I might save the ork a labour, that Will be done to my hand I know I shall be devoured. Why man. Why my grandsire was deflowered, and they say deflowering goes in a blood. If I rid you both of this fear will you worship me. O worshipful water-wight. O Neptune's father. O Glaucus' Mother. Why then thus; my deities oracle gives you answer thus When 2 famous fishers fall upon this sand Let them for fear of mighty ork, leave seas sail home by land I have not pinched them for measure I have given them Oracle up to the elbows. Sail there's your office Scrocca, you must go: By land, there's your office go you. What can you not expound. Drag up your boat and homeward cross this shore we are all made, I understood you sir, but I did not know your meaning. Pull you the boat at nose I'll lift at the arse. Manners lack this is a land voyage, I am master. Hoh; roh; droh;, Horka, Corka, Suga ponto; the monster comes down under the boat turn it over I'll help: Retire thou sacred monster (creepe on) These sweet souls are no food for thee (on on) 'Tis time these souls were spent they begin To stink, retire thou great god Neptune's scourge Retire I say while this twin tortoise passes And dare not once to touch these fish flesh asses. Hah, ha, he, farewell good tortoise, what good foutch? haddock Hare and Cod? you shall walk with me I'll be your Ork: yet i'll carry the Cod to my mistress Cosma. I know she loves it well: let Conchilio be turned into an Oyster if he would not play the Ork every day for such sport, it shall go hard but I'll with my friend Cancrone yet once again. Happy happy fisher's swain If that ye knew your happiness Your sport tastes sweeter by your pains, Sure hope your labour relishes Your net your living, when you eat Labour finds appetite and meat.
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)
O the Orke the huge huntie, puntie. Vp cancrone I tell thee wee haue scap't him. I tell thee Sirocca wee haue not scap't him, he has eate vs vp These fihers are new returnd from fishing, and know not that Atyches has slaine the Orke, I'le Orke them. Ah Sirocca I would this Orke were in Neptunes bellie, that will suffer such a worme to liue in his dominions, I am a very macherell if the very name be not worse to mee then, three nights cold fishing. Mee thinks I am colder too then I was before. Let mee strike then before the iron be key cold What hardie fishers dare approch this shore Vntrod by men this twenty years and moe. Good now Conchyli doe not the Norke Wee did eate the goden apples; wee. What old Cancrne? I am orrie for your chance The best that I aduise you is hat you rturne round about the Cape presently before the Oke smell you (if he were within twelue score he might wind them) foh. Nay I shall be deuourd. Pucke out a good heart man. If I could doe so I might saue the Orke a labour, that Will be done to my hand I know I shall be deuourd. Why man. Why my grandsire was deflourd, and they say deflouring goes in a blood. If I ridde you both of this feare will you worship me. O woshipfull water-wight. O Neptunes father. O Glaucus Mother. Why then thus; my deities oracle giues you answer thus When 2 famous fishers fall vpon this sand Let them for feare of mghtie Orke, leaue seas saile home by land I haue not pincht hem for measure I haue giuen them Oracle vp to he elbowes. Saile ther's your office Scrocca, you must goe: By land, there's your office goe you. What can you not expound. Dragge vp your bote and home-ward cre this shore We are all made, I vndestood you sir, but I did not know your meaning. Pull you the bte at nose 'le lift at the arse. Manners lacke this is a land voyage, I am master. Hoh; roh; droh;, Horka, Corka, Suga ponto; the monster coms downe vnder the boate turne it ouer Ile helpe: Retire thou sacred monster (crepe on) These sweet soules ae no fd fo thee (on on) 'Tis time these soules were spent they begin To stink, retire thou great god Neptunes scurg Retire I say while this twinne tortoise passes And dare not one to touch these fih flesh asses. Hah, ha, he, farewell good tortoise, what good foutch? Haddocke are and Cd? you shall walke with me Ile be your Oke: yet ile carry the Cod to my mistris Cosma. I know she loues it well: let Conchilio be turn'd into an Oyster if hee would not play the Oke euery day for such sport, it shall go hard but le with my friend ancrne yet once againe. Happy happie Fishers swaine If that yee knew your happines Your sport tasts sweeter by your paies, Sure hope your labour relishes Your net your liuing, when you eate Labour finds appetite and meat.