Hausted, Peter · published 1632 · first performed or written 1632 [Mar 19] (Annals) comedy · before the Court unassigned nearest T41 Household service: masters, doors and po · 505 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T41: master, house, door, iohn, old, mistress, basket, lord, gentleman, ick.
You will not quarrel with your friend's Sir, will you? friend's Sir? I know not whether you be my friend, or no; I am sure you use no friendly language. Prithee Scholar, tail off Mr. Mongrel a little, he'll never leave now he has drawn blood once. Come, you're a fool; the Gentleman's of worth, and our friend. Nay I have done now, I did but try how I could quarrel a little. Faith Sir, this would have made a fair show in a Country Alehouse. Nay Sir, as soon as my father dies, (which will not be long I hope, for he lies sick now) I'll go to London, and learn to quarrel there, for a year or two, and then come down again, and practise amongst my Tenants. Why Anteros; pray thee relieve me. St, not a word, for a million of worlds. Hark you Scholar. I hope you are not angry? Angry old Bully? he had a hard heart, that would be angry with thee. 'Tis as I tell you, his wound has been searched by a very skilful Surgeon, and his Pia matter is found to be perished, and when that's gone, you know there is small hope. None at all Sir, I've read it in Magirus, Cousin Mongrel, come hither quickly— Now, now, how greedily the Scholar sucks it in. What's the matter? but is this true? As true as you're a Gentleman. He never emptied a buttery pot after a match at football, with greater appetite, than he devours this gullery. Take heed what you do, the least protraction is full of danger. O the Lord! what will become of us? Loveall stir the door a little— passion O me! there's somebody at the door, look, look, creep into this chest, I'll shut you in. anywhere good Sir. Where will you hide me sir? I'll go into the chest too. Here's hardly room enough for myself. Stay, stay, stay. In good sooth Mr. Constable here's no such men this way— what say you, you threepenny crack crown? I tell you, they have already taken horse. Here, here, here, creep in, stoop man, stoop. Ha, ha, he. Why so, we're now at Liberty, farewell. My sister's wrongs, and sorrows call for me, And shall be answered. Well adieu sweet Sir. I must be sudden, or I'm lost for ever. By this time sure my father melts (why shepherd.) The ample benefit, that shall accrue Unto him by this worthy match, this instant Arrives at 's weather-beaten apprehension; (I do but know it, am but sure of it) O, what a dainty pleasant thing it is For to be free from care! to sleep a night, Without the dreaming of a Creditor, Or the disturbance of that gobbling Forfeit! It cannot but be so, upon my soul, He trades in this same cogitation, This very minute— Stipes. che ti venga l' cancro. Well, if he be above ground, I will find him, Or lose myself, I'll seek him in the pastures.
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)
You will not quarrell with your friends Sir, will you? Friends Sir? I know not whether you be my friend, or no; I am ſure you vſe no friendly language. Pri'thee Scholler, tayle off Mr. Mungrell a little, hee'l never leaue now hee has drawne blood once. Come, you'r a foole; the Gentleman's of worth, and our friend. Nay I haue done now, I did but try how I could quarrell a little. Faith Sir, this would haue made a faire ſhow in a Country Ale-houſe. Nay Sir, as ſoone as my father dyes, (which will not bee long I hope, for hee lyes ſicke now) I'le goe to Londorn, and learne to quarrell there, for a yeare or two, and then come downe againe, and practiſe amongſt my Tenants. Why Anteros; pray thee releiue mee. St, not a word, for a million of worlds. Harke you Scholler. I hope you are not angry? Angry old Bully? hee had a hard heart, that would be angry with thee. 'Tis as I tell you, his wound ha's beene ſearch'd by a very skilfull Surgeon, and his Pia mater is found to be periſhed, and when that's gone, you know there is ſmall hope. None at all Sir, I've read it in Magirus, Cozen Mungrell, come hither quickly — Now, now, how greedily the Scholler ſucks it in. What's the matter? but is this true? As true as you'r a Gentleman. Hee never emptyed a buttry pot after a match at footeball, with greater appetite, then hee devours this gullery. Take heed what you doe, the leaſt protraction is full of danger. O the Lord! what will become of vs? Loveall ſtirre the doore a little — paſſion O mee! there's ſome body at the dore, looke, looke, creepe into this cheſt, I'le ſhut you in. Any where good Sir. Where will you hide me ſir? I'le goe into the cheſt too. Here's hardly roome enough for my ſelfe. Stay, ſtay, ſtay. In good ſooth Mr. Conſtable here's no ſuch men this way— what ſay you, you three-penny cracke crowne? I tell you, they haue already taken horſe. Here, here, here, creepe in, ſtoope man, ſtoope. Ha, ha, he. Why ſo, wee'r now at Liberty, farewell. My ſiſters wrongs, and ſorrowes call for mee, And ſhall be anſwered. Well adiew ſweet Sir. I muſt bee ſuddaine, or l'me loſt for euer. By this time ſure my father melts (why ſheepherd.) The ample benefit, that ſhall acrew Vnto him by this worthy match, this inſtant Arriues at 's weather-beaten apprehenſion; (I doe but know it, am but ſure of it) O, what a dainty pleaſant thing it is For to bee free from care! to ſleepe a night, Without the dreaming of a Creditour, Or the diſturbance of that gobling Forfeit! It cannot but be ſo, vpon my ſoule, Hee trades in this ſame cogitation, This very minute — Stipes. che ti venga l' cancro. Well, if hee be aboue ground, I will find him, Or looſe my ſelfe, I'le ſeeke him in the paſtures.