Jonson, Ben · published 1631 · first performed or written 1614 [Oct 31] (Annals) comedy · Lady Elizabeth's Men unassigned nearest T51 Parents and children: blessing, birthrig · 484 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T51: esau, iacob, father, son, isaac, god, love, birthright, parents, thing.
Not, I'll not make me unready for it. I can be Hypocrite enough, though I were never so strait laced. You say true, you have been bred i'the family, and brought up to't. Our mother is a most elect Hypocrite, and has maintained us all this seven year with it, like Gentlefolks. I, Let her alone, Iohn, she is not a wise wilful widow for nothing, nor a sanctified sister for a song. And let me alone too, I ha' somewhat o'the mother in me, you shall see, fetch her, fetch her, ah, ah. NOw, the blaze of the beauteous discipline, fright away this evil from our house! how now Win-the-fight, Child: how do you? Sweet child, speak to me. Yes, forsooth. Look up, sweet Win-the-fight, and suffer not the enemy to enter you at this door, remember that your education has been with the purest, what polluted one was it, that named first the unclean beast, Pig, to you, Child? (Uh, vh.) Not I, o' my sincerity, mother: she longed above three hours, ere she would let me know it; who was it Win? A profane black thing with a beard, Iohn. O! resist it, Win-the-fight, it is the Tempter, the wicked Tempter, you may know it by the fleshly motion of Pig, be strong against it, and it's foul temptations, in these assaults, whereby it broacheth flesh and blood, as it were, on the weaker side, and pray against its carnal provocations, good child, sweet child, pray. Good mother, I pray you; that she may eat some Pig, and her belly full, too; and do not you cast away your own child, and perhaps one of mine, with your tale of the Tempter: how do you, Win? Are you not sick? Yes, a great deal, Iohn, (vh, vh.) What shall we do? call our zealous brother Busie hither, for his faithful fortification in this charge of the adversary; child, my dear child, you shall eat Pig, be comforted, my sweet child. I, but i'the Fair, mother. I mean i'the Fair, if it can be any way made, or found lawful; where is our brother Busy? Will he not come? look up, child. Presently, mother, as soon as he has cleansed his beard. I found him, fast by the teeth, i'the cold Turkey-pie, i'the cupboard, with a great white loaf on his left hand, and a glass of Malmsey on his right. Slander not the Brethrens, wicked one. Here he is, DO●, purified, Mother. O brother Busye your help here to edify, and raise us up in a scruple; my daughter Win-the-fight is visited with a natural disease of women; called, A longing to eat Pig. I Sir, a Bartholmew-pig: and in the Fair. And I would be satisfied from you, Religiously-wise, whether a widow of the sanctified assembly, or a widow's daughter, may commit the act, without offence to the weaker sisters.
seed 43: T48 · seed 44: T49 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
No, I'll not make me vnready for it. I can be Hypocrite enough, though I were neuer ſo ſtraight lac'd. You ſay true, you haue bin bred i'the family, and brought vp to't. Our mother is a moſt elect Hypocrite, and has maintain'd us all this ſeuen yeere with it, like Gentle-folkes. I, Let her alone, Iohn, ſhe is not a wiſe wilfull widdow for nothing, nor a ſanctified ſiſter for a ſong. And let me alone too, I ha' ſomewhat o'the mother in me, you ſhall ſee, fetch her, fetch her, ah, ah. NOw, the blaze of the beauteous diſcipline, fright away this euill from our houſe! how now Win-the-fight, Child: how do you? Sweet child, ſpeake to me. Yes, forſooth. Looke vp, ſweet Win-the-fight, and ſuffer not the enemy to enter you at this doore, remember that your education has bin with the pureſt, what polluted one was it, that nam'd firſt the vncleane beaſt, Pigge, to you, Child? (Vh, vh.) Not I, o' my ſincerity, mother: ſhe long'd aboue three houres, ere ſhe would let me know it; who was it Win? A prophane blacke thing with a beard, Iohn. O! reſiſt it, Win-the-fight, it is the Tempter, the wicked Tempter, you may know it by the fleſhly motion of Pig, be ſtrong againſt it, and it's foule temptations, in theſe aſſaults, whereby it broacheth fleſh and blood, as it were, on the weaker ſide, and pray againſt it's carnall prouocations, good child, ſweet child, pray. Good mother, I pray you; that ſhe may eate ſome Pigge, and her belly full, too; and doe not you caſt away your owne child, and perhaps one of mine, with your tale of the Tempter: how doe you, Win? Are you not ſicke? Yes, a great deale, Iohn, (vh, vh.) What ſhall we doe? call our zealous brother Buſy hither, for his faithfull fortification in this charge of the aduerſary; child, my deare childe, you ſhall eate Pigge, be comforted, my ſweet child. I, but i'the Fayre, mother. I meane i'the Fayre, if it can be any way made, or found lawfull; where is our brother Buſy? Will hee not come? looke vp, child. Preſently, mother, as ſoone as he has cleanſ'd his beard. I found him, faſt by the teeth, i'the cold Turkey-pye, i'the cupbord, with a great white loafe on his left hand, and a glaſſe of Malmeſey on his right. Slander not the Brethren, wicked one. Here hee is, DO, purified, Mother. O brother Buſy your helpe heere to edifie, and raiſe vs vp in a ſcruple; my daughter Win-the-fight is viſited with a naturall diſeaſe of women; call'd, A longing to eate Pigge. I Sir, a Bartholmew-pigge: and in the Fayre. And I would be ſatisfied from you, Religiouſly-wiſe, whether a widdow of the ſanctified aſſembly, or a widdowes daughter, may commit the act, without offence to the weaker ſiſters.