Drue, Thomas · published 1631 · first performed or written 1624 [licensed for stage, Jan 2] (Annals) history · Prince Palatine's (Palsgrave's) Men unassigned nearest T41 Household service: masters, doors and po · 471 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T41: master, house, door, iohn, old, mistress, basket, lord, gentleman, ick.
Come away Hugh ti ti tiler, Now we have lined our backs, And warmed our bellies, let's do our days work in an hour And drink ourselves drunk all the day after. Whope, why the Cock ale has spurred thee already. Thou art a Coxcomb to say so, I will run up, and Come down my Ladder as nimble as a Squirrel. For going up I know not, but thou'lt come down With thy head forward. Why then that's a trick more than ever thou sawest in thy life, oh in my ale I can do any thing, tumble like an elephant. Now where's this Tiler. At hand quoth pickpurse, ha' you any work for a tiler. Not so much work sir as you have made for the searcher. And which way crossed the man? Should there not be two hundred of slates, sayst thou? Answer me hobby-horse, Which way crossed he you saw enough? Who do you speak to sir, We have forgot the hobby-horse. Yes truly sir, Look well amongst yourselves for him. The man, the man sirrah Saunders, that you said you saw. That I saw said you, all that I saw was a russet Gentleman with a toasted Cullisance, and he went down Gutter-lane I assure you. That's as true as Sands crossed this way, and we not see him. Did he cross this way and you not see him, the more blind buzzard you. You told us sirrah enough, he went this way. Who I, than I told you a lie, for I was then sipping my morning draught. Say fellows did not he direct us thither. ay, who I? jenken the Tiler. I you. Bless my slating, is the devil amongst you, that you fall so fast a lying, if I saw any of you before would every slate I have were in your bellies, why do you not know jenken the Tiler. Nor hugh the good Duchess of Suffolk's man. The Duchess man, an Heretic. Nay nay, that's most certain, what's an Earwig sir, a good fellow I hope. You shall have that defined, When you come before my Lord. Oh by no means, He spits nothing but fire and faggot-sticks. No matter, I have ale enough in my belly to Quench 'em. So guard them safe, these villains have conveyed That traitor Sands their fellow, hence. Not I, I desire you, I renounce and confound you. Dam up the brick bat's mouth, convey them hence, 'tis they shall pay the price of Sands offence. Cranwell. Madam. Speak softly, where is Nurse, speak softly prithee Lord, why loiters she, but call her not: soft, soft, what creaking shoes hast thou got Cranw. to betray our feares, put off them traitors. Madam. Thou speakest too loud. Neither my tongue, nor shoes, can reach an eare.
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)
Come away Hugh ti ti tiler, Now we haue lin'd our backs, And warmd our bellies, Lets doe our dayes worke in an houre And drinke our selues drunke all the day after. Whope, why the Cocke ale has spurd thee alread Thou art a Coxcombe to say so, I will run vp, and Come downe my Ladder as nimble as a Squerrill. For going vp I know not, but thou't come dow With thy head forward. Why then that's a tricke more then ever thou sawe in thy life, oh in my ale I can doe any thing, tumble like a Eliphant. Now where's this Tiler. At hand quoth pickepurse, Ha you any worke for a tiler. Not so much worke sir as you haue made for the searcher. And which way crost the man? Should there not be two hundred of slates, saist thou? Answere me hobbihorse, Which way crost he you saw enow? Who doe you speake to sir, We haue forgot the hobbihorse. Yes truely sir, Looke well amongst your selues for him. The man, the man sirra Saunders, that you said you saw. That I saw said you, all that I saw was a russet Gentleman with a tosted Cullizance, and hee went downe Gutter-lane I assure you. That's as true as Sands crost this way, and wee not see him. Did he crosse this way and you not see him, the more blind buzzard you. You told vs sirra enow, he went this way. Who I, then I told you a lye, for I was then sipping my morning draught. Say fellowes did not he direct vs thither. I, who I? Ienken the Tiler. I you. Blesse my slating, is the devill amongst you, that you fall so fast a lying, if I saw any of you before would every slate I haue vvere in your bellies, vvhy doe you not know Ienken the Tiler. Nor hugh the good Dutches of Suffolkes man. The Dutches man, an Hereticke. Nay nay, thats most certaine, whats an Erewig sir, a good fellow I hope. You shall haue that defind, When you come before my Lord▪ Oh by no meanes, He spits nothing but fire and fagot-sticks. No matter, I haue ale enough in my belly to Quench vm. So guard them safe, these villaines haue conveid That traytor Sands their fellow, hence. Not I, I desire you, I renounce and confound you. Dam vp the brick bats mouth, convey them henc Tis they shall pay the price of Sands offence. Cranwell. Madam. Speake softly, where is Nurse, speake softly pr thee Lord, why toyters she, but call her not: soft, soft, w creaking shooes hast thou got Cranw. to betray our feare put off them traytors. Madam. Thou speakest too loud. Neither my tongue, nor shoes, can reach an ear