Jonson, Ben · published 1631 · first performed or written 1614 [Oct 31] (Annals) comedy · Lady Elizabeth's Men T44 Drinking: wine, ale and taverns typicality 0.74 · 469 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T44: drink, wine, numps, ale, butler, pot, sing, moy, drunk, win.
Accuse him? it confesses him one without accusing. What pity 'tis yonder wench should marry such a Coke? 'Tis true. She seems to be discreet, and as sober as she is handsome. I, and if you mark her, what a restrained scorn she casts upon all his behaviour, and speeches? Well, Numps, I am now for another piece of business more, the Fair, Numps, and than— Bless me! deliver me, help, hold me! the Fair! Nay, never fidge up and down, Numps, and vex itself. I am resolute Bartholomew, in this; I'll make no suit on't to you; 'twas all the end of my journey, indeed, to show Mistress Grace my Fair: I call't my Fair, because of Bartholomew: you know my name is Bartholomew, and Bartholomew Fair. That was mine afore, Gentlemen: this morning. I had that i'faith, upon his Licence, believe me, there he comes, after me. Come, Iohn, this ambitious wit of yours, (I am afraid) will do you no good i'the end. Not? why Sir? You grow so insolent with it, and overdoing, Iohn: that if you look not to it, and tie it up, it will bring you to some obscure place in time, and there 'twill leave you. Do not trust it too much, Iohn, be more sparing, and use it, but now and than; a wit is a dangerous thing, in this age; do not over buy it. Think you so, Gentlemen? I'll take heed on't, hereafter. Yes, do Iohn. A pretty little soul, this same Mistress Little-wit! would I might marry her. So would I, or any body else, so I might scape you, Numps, I will see it, Numps, 'tis decreed: never be melancholy for the matter. Why, see it, Sir, see it, do see it! who hinders you? why do you not go see it? 'Slid see it. The Fair, Numps, the Fair. World the Fair and all the Drums, and Rattles in't, were i'your belly for me: they are already i'your brain: he that had the means to travel you head, now, should meet finer sights than any are i'the Fair; and make a finer voyage on't; to see it all hung with cockleshells, pebbles, fine wheat-straws, and here and there a chicken's feather, and a cobweb. Good faith, he looks, me thinks an you mark him, like one that were made to catch flies, with his Sir Cranion-legs. And his Numps, to flap 'em away. God, bew ' you, Sir, there's your Bee in a box, and much good do't, you. Why, your friend, and Bartholomew; an you be so contumacious. What mean you, Numps? I'll not be guilty, I, Gentlemen. You will not let him go, Brother, and lose him? Who can hold that will away? I had rather lose him than the Fair, I wiss.
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)
Accuſe him? it confeſſes him one without accuſing. What pitty 'tis yonder wench ſhould marry ſuch a Cokes? 'Tis true. Shee ſeemes to be diſcreete, and as ſober as ſhee is handſome. I, and if you marke her, what a reſtrain'd ſcorne ſhe caſts vpon all his behauiour, and ſpeeches? Well, Numpes, I am now for another piece of buſineſſe more, the Fayre, Numpes, and then— Bleſſe me! deliuer me, helpe, hold mee! the Fayre! Nay, neuer fidge vp and downe, Numpes, and vexe it ſelfe. I am reſolute Bartholmew, in this; Il'e make no ſuite on't to you; 'twas all the end of my iourney, indeed, to ſhew Miſtris Grace my Fayre: I call't my Fayre, becauſe of Bartholmew: you know my name is Bartholmew, and Bartholmew Fayre. That was mine afore, Gentlemen: this morning. I had that i'faith, vpon his Licence, beleeue me, there he comes, after me. Come, Iohn, this ambitious wit of yours, (I am afraid) will doe you no good i'the end. No? why Sir? You grow ſo inſolent with it, and ouerdoing, Iohn: that if you looke not to it, and tie it vp, it will bring you to ſome obſcure place in time, and there 'twill leaue you. Doe not truſt it too much, Iohn, be more ſparing, and vſe it, but now and then; a wit is a dangerous thing, in this age; doe not ouer buy it. Thinke you ſo, Gentlemen? I'll take heed on't, hereafter. Yes, doe Iohn. A prety little ſoule, this ſame Miſtris Little-wit! would I might marry her. So would I, or any body elſe, ſo I might ſcape you, Numps, I will ſee it, Numpes, 'tis decreed: neuer be melancholy for the matter. Why, ſee it, Sir, ſee it, doe ſee it! who hinders you? why doe you not goe ſee it? 'Slid ſee it. The Fayre, Numps, the Fayre. World the Fayre and all the Drums, and Rattles in't, were i'your belly for mee: they are already i'your braine: he that had the meanes to trauell you head, now, ſhould meet finer ſights then any are i'the Fayre; and make a finer voyage on't; to ſee it all hung with cockle-ſhels, pebbles, fine wheat-ſtrawes, and here and there a chicken's feather, and a cob-web. Good faith, hee lookes, me thinkes an' you marke him, like one that were made to catch flies, with his Sir Cranion-legs. And his Numpes, to flap 'hem away. God, bew' you, Sir, there's your Bee in a box, and much good doo't, you. Why, your friend, and Bartholmew; an' you be ſo contumacious. What meane you, Numpes? I'll not be guilty, I, Gentlemen. You will not let him goe, Brother, and looſe him? Who can hold that will away? I had rather looſe him then the Fayre, I wuſſe.