Jonson, Ben · published 1631 · first performed or written 1616 [Oct-Nov (?)] (Annals) comedy · King's Men unassigned nearest T16 Gallantry: ladies, lordships and complim · 492 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T16: lady, madam, gentleman, lordship, ladies, honour, mistress, sweet, court, servant.
An honest gentleman, but he's never at leisure To be himself: He has such tides of business. O, Call me home again, dear Chief, and put me To yoking foxes, milking of He-goats, Pounding of water in a mortar, laving The sea dry with a nutshell, gathering all The leaves are fall'n this Autumn, drawing farts Out of dead bodies, making ropes of sand, Catching the winds together in a net, Mustering of aunts, and numbering atoms; all That hell, and you thought exquisite torments, rather Than stay me here, a thought more: I would sooner Keep fleas within a circle, and be accountant A thousand year, which of 'em and how far Out leapt the other, than endure a minute Such as I have within. There is no hell To a Lady of fashion. All your tortures there Are pastimes to it. IT would be a refreshing For me, to be i' the fire again, from hence. This is my suit, and those the shoes and roses! Th' have such impertinent vexations, A general Council o' devils could not hit— Ha! This is he, I took a sleep with his Wench, And borrowed his cloathes. What might I do to balk him? Do you hear, Sr? Answ. him but not to th' purpose What is your name, I pray you Sir. Is't so late Sir? I ask not o' the time, but of your name, Sir, I thank you, Sir. Yes it does hold Sir, certain. Hold, Sir? What holds? I must both hold, and talk to you About these clothes. A very pretty lace! But the Tailor cozened me. Not, I am cozened By you! robbed. Why, when you please Sir, I am For three penny Gleek, your man Pox o' your gleek, And three pence. Give me an answer. Sir, My master is the best at it. Your master! Who is your Master. Let it be friday night. What should be than? Your best songs Thom o' Bedlam I think, you are he. Does he mock me trow, from purpose? Or do not I speak to him, what I mean? Good Sir your name. Only a couple o' Cock's Sir, If we can get a Widgeon, 'tis in season. He hopes to make on o' these Sceptics o' me (I think I name 'em right) and does not fly me. I wonder at that! 'tis a strange confidence! I'll prove another way, to draw his answer. It is the easiest thing Sir, to be done. As plain, as sizzling: roll but wi' your eyes, And foam at th' mouth. A little castle-soap Will do it, to rub your lips: And than a nutshell, With toe, and touchwood in it to spit fire, Did you never read, Sir, little Darrel's tricks, With the boy o' Burton, and the 7, in Lancashire, Summer at Nottingham? All these do teach it. And we'll give out, Sir, that your wife has bewitched you:
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)
An honeſt gentleman, but he's neuer at leiſure To be himſelfe: He ha's ſuch tides of buſineſſe. O, Call me home againe, deare Chiefe, and put me To yoaking foxes, milking of Hee-goates, Pounding of water in a morter, lauing The ſea dry with a nut-ſhell, gathering all The leaues are falne this Autumne, drawing farts Out of dead bodies, making ropes of ſand, Catching the windes together in a net, Muſtring of ants, and numbring atomes; all That hell, and you thought exquiſite torments, rather Then ſtay me here, a thought more: I would ſooner Keepe fleas within a circle, and be accomptant A thouſand yeere, which of 'hem and how far Out leap'd the other, then endure a minute Such as I haue within. There is no hell To a Lady of faſhion. All your tortures there Are paſtimes to it. 'T would be a refreſhing For me, to be i' the fire againe, from hence. This is my ſuite, and thoſe the ſhoes and roſes! Th' haue ſuch impertinent vexations, A generall Councell o' diuels could not hit— Ha! This is hee, I tooke a ſleepe with his Wench, And borrow'd his cloathes. What might I doe to balke him? Do you heare, Sr? Anſw. him but not to th' purpoſe What is your name, I pray you Sir. Is't ſo late Sir? I aske not o' the time, but of your name, Sir, I thanke you, Sir. Yes it dos hold Sir, certaine. Hold, Sir? What holds? I muſt both hold, and talke to you About theſe clothes. A very pretty lace! But the Taylor coſſend me. No, I am coſſend By you! robb'd. Why, when you pleaſe Sir, I am For three peny Gleeke, your man Pox o' your gleeke, And three pence. Giue me an anſwere. Sir, My maſter is the beſt at it. Your maſter! Who is your Maſter. Let it be friday night. What ſhould be then? Your beſt ſongs Thom o' Bet'lem I thinke, you are he. Do's he mocke me trow, from purpoſe? Or do not I ſpeake to him, what I meane? Good Sir your name. Only a couple a' Cocks Sir, If we can get a Widgin, 'tis in ſeaſon. He hopes to make on o' theſe Scipticks o' me (I thinke I name 'hem right) and do's not fly me. I wonder at that! 'tis a ſtrange confidence! I'll prooue another way, to draw his anſwer. It is the eaſieſt thing Sir, to be done. As plaine, as ſizzling: roule but wi' your eyes, And foame at th' mouth. A little caſtle-ſoape Will do 't, to rub your lips: And then a nutſhell, With toe, and touch-wood in it to ſpit fire, Did you ner'e read, Sir, little Darrels tricks, With the boy o' Burton, and the 7, in Lancaſhire, Sommers at Nottingham? All theſe do teach it. And wee'll giue out, Sir, that your wife ha's bewitch'd you: