Fletcher, Phineas · published 1631 · first performed or written 1615 [Mar 13] (Annals) pastoral · at University unassigned nearest T57 Ships, merchants and pirates · 501 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T57: ship, sea, master, sail, home, money, pisaro, life, ships, till.
How canst thou assure it? Trust me I'll procure it; Else never more let me see golden stars. I'll try thee boy, 'tis but one misspent hour, If thou perform thy promise good Conchylio, Many such glittering nights shall shine on thee. If? make no question sir. Farewell. Adieu. This strange new bird, this goose with golden eggs Must with some grain of hope be cherished, And yet not fed too fat; now for my Crab, Here's his twin, if heaven's signs are right. Next to the crab, the twin must come in sight, I'll out and seek him. Sail home by land quotha? well, I'll have that saddle boat hung up for a monument in the temple of Odoxcom, hard by the everlasting shoes, and now to see the ill luck on't never more need of fish, a bounsing feast toward, umber of guests, not a whiting, not a haddock, not a cod-mop in the house: and in stead of catching fish, we must go fish for our nets, Cancrone, come along, along, along: the ork's dead and buried, the ork's dead and buried. ay but does not his ghost walk thereabout? On afore, I'll follow hintly-fintly, by the hobnails of Neptune horseshoes— Nay if you swear, we shall catch no fish, what Cancrone, sneak you still? whoop, we shall fish fairly if your searmore be off: How now, what all in white? Seest not I am busified? dost thou think a man can button his coat and talk all at once? My pretty sea-cob, why I prithee why in thy white? Ino triumph I Ino triumph I tell thee this is my triumphing suit, did not we vanquish the ork? I hope so: too but all our fellow fishers say 'twas Atyches. Thus Atyches killed him alive, and we killed him dead. I prithee on with thy gaberdine again. My old scaly slimy gaberdine? why, if I should fish in that, every fin would smell me. Well, our nets are not above ground, what shall we do? Why then Sir, you must go seek them under ground. Well Sir, you'll follow. Muddy Scrocca, canst thou not perceive Cancrone's inside by his new outside? my old ork apparel, my pitch patch poledavies had no good perfume for a sweet lover, as I now must be: but why a lover? because I mean to kill the next ork hand to hand; for my master's sister's sweetheart Ataches, because a lover, therefore an Ork-killer. What? old crab tortoise? has the ork made you cast your shell? Fish me no fishing: I'm all for flesh. Thy lob hath learned that fishers keep no lent. Therefore thou blue-beard Neptune, and thou triumphing Triton, and thou watchet jacket Glaucus, Daucus, Maucus, and all the rest of the salt fish gods, I denounce you all, and for your formable farewell, I do here reach forth to your dropping drivelling deities my love warm hand to kiss. So, have you done? Fie flapmouth. Triton, thou beslaverest me.
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)
How canst thou assure it? Trust mee I'le procure it; Else neuer more let me see golden stars. I'le try thee boy, 'tis but one mis-spent houre, If thou performe thy promise good Conchylio, Many such glittering nights shall shine on thee. If? make no question sir. Farewell. Adiew. This strange new bird, this goose with golden eggs Must with some graine of hope bee cherished, And yet not fedde too fat; now for my Crab, Here's his twin, if heauens signes are right. Next to the crab, the twin must come in sight, I'le out and seeke him. Saile home by land quotha? well, I'le haue that saddle boate hung vp for a monument in the temple of Odoxcom, hard by the euerlasting shooes, and now to see the ill lucke on't neuer moe neede of ish, a bounsing feast toward, vmber of guests, not a whiting, not a haddock, not a cod-mop in the house: and in stead of catching fish, wee must goe fish for our nets, Cancrone, come along, along, along: the Orke's dead and buried, the Orke's dead and buried. I but does not his ghost walke thereabout? On afoe, I'le follow hintly fintly, by the hobnailes of Neptun horse-shooes— Nay if you sweare, we shall catch no fish, what Canrone, sneake you still? whoop, we shall fish fairely if your searmore be off: How now, what all in white? Seest not I am busified? doest thou thinke a man can button his coate and talke all at once? My prettie sea-cob, why I preethee why in thy white? Ino triumph I Ino triumph tell thee this is my triumphing sute, did not wee vanquish the Orke? I hope so: oo but all our fellow fishers say t'was Atyhes. Thus Atyches kild him aliue, and wee kild him dead. I preethee on with thy gaberdine againe. My old saly slimie gaberdine? why, if I should fish in that, euery finne would smell mee. Well, our nets are not aboue ground, what shall wee doe? Why then Sir, you must goe seeke them vnder ground. Well Sir, you'l follow. Muddie Scrocca, canst thou not perceiue Cancrones inside by his new out-side? my old Orke apparell, my pitch patch poledauies had no good perfume for a sweete louer, as I now must be: but why a louer? because I meane to kill the next Orke hand to hand; for my masters sisters sweetheart Ataches, because a louer, therefore an Orkekiller. What? old crab tortoise? has the Orke made you cast your shell? Fish mee no fishing: I'me all for flesh. Thy lob hath learnt that fishers keepe no lent. Therfore thou blue-beard Neptune, and thou trumphing Triton, and thou watchet iacket Glucus, Dauus, Maucus, and all the rest of the salt fish gods, I denounce you all, and for your formable farewell, I doe here reach forth to your dropping driueling deities my loue warme hand to kisse. So, haue you done? Fie flapmouth. Triton, thou beslauerest mee.