Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T16: lady, madam, gentleman, lordship, ladies, honour, mistress, sweet, court, servant.
By'r Lady but he should not to mine, I would hearken, and hearken, and censure, if I saw cause, for th'other Princess sake Pocahontas, surnamed the blessed, whom he has abused indeed (and I do censure him, and will censure him) to say she came forth of a Tavern, was said like a paltry Poet. That's but one Gossip's opinion, and my Gossip Tatle's too! but what says Expectation, here, she sits sullen and silent. Troth I expect their Office, their great Office! the Staple, what it will be! they have talked on't, but we see't not open yet; would Butter would come in, and spread itself a little to us. Or the butterbox, Buzz, the Emissary. When it is churned, and dished, we shall hear of it. If it be fresh and sweet butter; but say it be sour and wheyish. Than it is worth nothing, mere pot- butter, fit to be spent in suppositories, or greasing coach-wheels, stolen stinking butter, and such I fear it is, by the being barrelled up so long. Or rank Irish butter. Have patience Gossips, say that contrary to our expectations it prove right, seasonable, salt butter. Or to the time of year, in Lent, delicate Almond butter! I have a sweet tooth yet, and I will hope the best; and sit down as quiet, and calm as butter, look as smooth, and soft as butter; be merry, and melt like butter; laugh and be fat like butter: so butter answer my expectation, and be not mad butter; If it be: It shall both Iuly and December see. I say no more, But— Dixi. YOu hunt upon a wrong scent still, and think The air of things will carry 'em, but it must Be reason and proportion, not fine sounds, My cousin Cymbal, must get you this Lady. You have entertained a pettifogger here, Picklock, with trust of an Emissary's place, And he is, all, for the young Prodigal, You see he has left us. Come, you do not know him, That speak thus of him. He will have a trick, To open us a gap, by a trap-door, When they least dream on't. Here he comes. What news? Where is my brother Buz? my brother Ambler? The Register, Examiner, and the Clerks? Appear, and let us muster all in pomp, For here will be the rich Infanta, presently, To make her visit. Peny-boy the heir, My Patron, has got leave for her to play With all her train, of the old churl, her Guardian. Now is your time to make all court unto her; That she may first but know, than love the place, And show it by her frequent visits here: And afterwards, get her to sojourn with you. She will be weary of the Prodigal, quickly. Excellent news! And counsel of an Oracle! How say you cousin Fitton? brother Picklock, I shall adore thee, for this parcel of tidings, It will cry up the credit of our Office, Eternally, and make our Staple immortal!
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)
By'r Lady but he ſhould not to mine, I would harken, and harken, and cenſure, if I ſaw cauſe, for th'other Princeſſe ſake Pokahontas, ſurnam'd the bleſſed, whom hee has abus'd indeed (and I doe cenſure him, and will cenſure him) to ſay ſhe came foorth of a Tauerne, was ſaid like a paltry Poet. That's but one Goſsips opinion, and my Goſsip Tatle's too! but what ſaies Expectation, here, ſhe ſits ſullen and ſilent. Troth I expect their Office, their great Office! the Staple, what it will be! they haue talk't on't, but wee ſee't not open yet; would Butter would come in, and ſpread it-ſelfe a little to vs. Or the butter-box, Buz, the Emiſſary. When it is churn'd, and diſh't, we ſhall heare of it. If it be freſh and ſweet butter; but ſay it be ſower and wheyiſh. Then it is worth nothing, meere pot-butter, fit to be ſpent in ſuppoſitories, or greaſing coach-wheeles, ſtale ſtinking butter, and ſuch I feare it is, by the being barrell'd vp ſo long. Or ranke Iriſh butter. Haue patience Goſsips, ſay that contrary to our expectations it proue right, ſeaſonable, ſalt butter. Or to the time of yeer, in Lent, delicate Almond butter! I haue a ſweet tooth yet, and I will hope the beſt; and ſit downe as quiet, and calme as butter, looke as ſmooth, and ſoft as butter; be merry, and melt like butter; laugh and be fat like butter: ſo butter anſwer my expectation, and be not mad butter; If it be: It ſhall both Iuly and December ſee. I ſay no more, But— Dixi. YOu hunt vpon a wrong ſcent ſtill, and thinke The ayre of things will carry 'hem, but it muſt Be reaſon and proportion, not fine ſounds, My couſin Cymball, muſt get you this Lady. You haue entertain'd a petty-fogger here, Picklocke, with truſt of an Emiſſaries place, And he is, all, for the young Prodigall, You ſee he has left vs. Come, you doe not know him, That ſpeake thus of him. He will haue a tricke, To open vs a gap, by a trap-doore, When they leaſt dreame on't. Here he comes. What newes? Where is my brother Buz? my brother Ambler? The Regiſter, Examiner, and the Clerkes? Appeare, and let vs muſter all in pompe, For here will be the rich Infanta, preſently, To make her viſit. Peny-boy the heyre, My Patron, has got leaue for her to play With all her traine, of the old churle, her Guardian. Now is your time to make all court vnto her; That ſhe may firſt but know, then loue the place, And ſhew it by her frequent viſits here: And afterwards, get her to ſoiourne with you. She will be weary of the Prodigall, quickly. Excellent newes! And counſell of an Oracle! How ſay you couſin Fitton? brother Picklock, I ſhall adore thee, for this parcell of tidings, It will cry vp the credit of our Office, Eternally, and make our Staple immortall!