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 · 515 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T41: master, house, door, iohn, old, mistress, basket, lord, gentleman, ick.
Prithee now Ieoffrey. What shall I say? you'll laugh at one. would I was whipped if I do. be sworn I won't. Nor I on my maidenhead. Come on then, since there is no remedy. Hi, now every one kiss his marrow. I ne'er was miserable till now Ieoffrey, Ieoffrey. Why don't you kiss your marrow? I won't, I can't kiss. No can't? we'll try that: Robin, hold his other arm fast: so, so, now Merda, now, well said, again, again; why so then. They live in Paradise that thrash. Tihy. Tihy, Robin, come hither. Those happy Paracelsians are in heaven, That trade by night i'th' minerals of the city. What do you mean to fight Merda? ay— I forgot the rod. Fie, why do you blush so Merda? I done't blush, you are a liar. Fie upon you Merda, a great maiden, and blush. Awe, but you lie though, I did not blush, I won't dance no more with you. O by any means do not forsake us yet, one dance more; who was it that said she blushed? she did not blush, I know she scorns to blush; come take your Ieoffrey by the hand again. I'm weary, I can't dance no more. Weary? faith I'd squiffe it; weary? about with it I say. O lazy varlets! is this a time to dance? you idle persons; What will you leave I say? look here I pray; does this same spectacle agree with turning on the toe, or capering? go to, go to, fie, fie, ah my sweet lambs, I dare be sworn for you, ye think nobody hurt at this instant. Come hither you my nimble skipper, upsolve me this question, what's your' pinion must be done with these? Pish let's away, strike up, Stipes adieu. Farewell Merda. And you my ninny pease-straw-wisp that cannot kiss. Stipes farewell, heigh. Stipes farewell? but Stipes cannot farewell, if his affairs go thus quite arsy-varsy; you whoreson crab-faced lizard, you left-legged rogue, what is there nothing else belongs unto this gear, think you, but only to stare on them with your two saucers of mustard? s'duds, either take them up quickly, and to work about them, or I'll— This is the second time; this once I'll suffer: But by yond palace of the Gods I swear, Let him but once more touch me with the top Of his least finger, and I'll ram his trunk Into the centre: I have said it. Are you muttering? you'll in with them, and dispatch them; go you home too, my daughter Merda. umh, umh, umh, you might have let one dance a little longer, so you might, so you might; I am not yet hot in my gears. Are you mumbling too? what my whole family turned rebels? s'duds— I promise you, I promise you, 'tis not my best course I see to beat my man thus often; a surly knave by'r Lady, a surly knave, a strong knave too, I do not like his looks, he has a vinegar countenance: but peace and catch a mouse, cry I.
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)
Prithee now Ieoffrey. What ſhall I ſay? you'l laugh at one. Wu'd I was whipt if I doe. Beſworne I won't. Nor I on my mayden-head. Come on then, ſince there is no remedy. Hi, now every one kiſſe his marrow. I ne're was miſerable 'till now Ieoffrey, Ieoffrey. Why don't you kiſſe your marrow? I won't, I can't kiſſe. No can't? wee'l trie that: Robin, hold his tother arme faſt: ſo, ſo, now Merda, now, well ſayd, againe, againe; why ſo then. They liue in Paradiſe that thraſh. Tihy. Tihy, Robin, come hither. Thoſe happy Paracelſians are in heauen, That trade by night i'th mineralls of the citie. What doe you meane to fight Merda? Ay-me—I forgot the rod. Fie, why doe you bluſh ſo Merda? I don't bluſh, you are a lyer. Fie upon you Merda, a great mayden, and bluſh. Aw, but you lye though, I did not bluſh, I won't daunce no more with you. O by any meanes doe not forſake us yet, one daunce more; who was it that ſaid ſhee bluſh'd? ſhee did not bluſh, I know ſhe ſcornes to bluſh; come take your Ieoffrey by the hand againe. I'm weary, I can't daunce no more. Weary? faith I'de ſquiffe it; weary? about with it I ſay. O lazy varlets! is this a time to daunce? you idle perſons; What will you leaue I ſay? looke heere I pray; doe's this ſame ſpectacle agree with turning on the toe, or capring? go to, go to, fie, fie, ah my ſweet lambes, I dare bee ſworne for you, yee thinke no body hurt at this inſtant. Come hither you my nimble skipper, upſolue me this queſtion, what's your 'pinion muſt be done with theſe? Piſh lets away, ſtrike vp, Stipes adiew. Farewell Merda. And you my ninny peaſe-ſtraw-wiſpe that cannot kiſſe. Stipes farewell, hey. Stipes farewell? but Stipes cannot farewel, if his affaires goe thus quite arſy varſy; you whorſon crab-fac'd lyzard, you left-leg'd rogue, what is there nothing elſe belongs unto this geare, thinke you, but onely to ſtare on them with your two ſawcers of muſtard? s'duds, either take them up quickly, and to worke about them, or Ile — This is the ſecond time; this once I'le ſuffer: But by yon pallace of the Gods I ſweare, Let him but once more touch me with the top Of his leaſt finger, and I'le ramme his truncke Into the center: I haue ſaid it. Are you muttering? you'l in with them, and diſpatch them; goe you home too, my daughter Merda. Vm, vm, vm, you might haue let one daunce a little longer, ſo you might, ſo you might; I am not yet hote in my geares. Are you mumbling too? what my whole family turn'd rebels? s'duds—I promiſe you, I promiſe you, 'tis not my beſt courſe I ſee to beat my man thus often; a ſurly knaue by'r Lady, a ſurly knaue, a ſtrong knaue too, I doe not like his lookes, he has a vineger countenance: but peace and catch a mouſe, cry I.