Hausted, Peter · published 1632 · first performed or written 1632 [Mar 19] (Annals) comedy · before the Court T47 Knaves, thieves and bawds typicality 0.75 · 480 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T47: knave, rogue, money, knaves, thief, rogues, pray, whore, nichol, book.
Who! now the scent grows hot, 'tis rank, The game's in view. Haup,— rate them there— no more You Sir, that are the ringleader of this rout.— Kings be profane. 'Sdeath! what a pack of rogues Are got together here? what is your name? Zealous Knowlittle: Zealous Knowlittle? good; Of which University? Of both the Universities. A very likely thing: good Mr Knowlittle Separate yourself a little from the people. With all my heart, I'll separate. Your name? My name is Tempest Allmouth sir. How? Tempest Almouth? where are thy brains man? He has not any. Bear him company. What have we here? Item, to send forth tickets To all the Brethren that do inhabit Within this Shire, to give them intimation, That M. Mother-tongue stands the first of Iune. You that are next him? Arthur Armstrong sir. You there Colosse? My name is Stutchell Legg. Troth, and thou art well underlaid indeed, A couple of football players I warrant them. Item:— a pox upon't, here's bawdry, I'll rake no deeper in this puddle.— so. And what must we call you? Ganymede Filpot. Thou shouldst be a good fellow by thy name. Come on; what glorious title I beseech you Has bounteous Nature fixed on you: nay open. My name is Hugo obligation. How? Hugo obligation? 'pray thee Loveall Is not this shorn beard villain the precise Scriveneur, Would fain turn Priest? The very same I take it. Meddle not with me Nay do not hold me. A whoreson Inkebottle, and two skins of parchment, Dares he hope for my sister, and a living? You slave, are Parsonages in this age so cheap? Pray thee Anteros. Do not entreat me Loveall, He dies: this hat is not more mortified. Pray thee be quiet. Hang him, a death's too good For such a rascal.— Sirrah, I'll indenture's Upon your skin. And here's another Villain, Whose very countenance speaks Servingman, Filpot come hither. Nay but Anteros. Death man! our Universities do swarm, They have more Scholars than they know to spend While they are Sweet: and must such Rogues as these, Whose height of knowledge, is to spit and snuffle, And talk some 3. hours' nonsense, shoulder them Out of their places? what is 't that makes so many Of our quick wit's turn Iesuits, and forsake Both their Religion, and their Country think you? Sirrah no more than thus, lie and thou diest. Have not you been a Serving man sometimes? Yes truly sir, I'll not deny't, I was A gentleman's butler once. I told you so. The very chippings hang in's eyebrows still. His face unto this instant minute shines With broken beer that was his fees, stand by, And do not hope so large a benefit From me as to be killed, live, live, unhappy. You M. know little know you whose box is this? Truly 'tis mine, verily.
nodes 3175–3249 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 56 of 63 in this edition
Length
480 words · 699 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T47 — Knaves, thieves and bawdscross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.750 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
seed 43: T46 · seed 44: T41 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Who! now the ſent growes hot, 'tis ranck, The game's in view. Haup,—rate them there—no more You Sir, that are the ring-leader of this rout.— Kings be profane. 'Sdeath! what a pack of rogues Are got together here? what is your name? Zealous Knowlittle: Zealous Knowlittle? good; Of which Vniverſitie? Of both the Vniverſities. A very likely thing: good Mr Knowlittle Separate your ſelfe a little from the people. With all my heart, I'le ſeparate. Your name? My name is Tempest Allmouth ſir. How? Tempeſt Almouth? where are thy braines man? He has not any. Beare him company. What haue we here? Item, to ſend forth tickets To all the Brethren that doe inhabite Within this Shire, to giue them intimation, That M. Mother-tongue ſtands the first of Iune. You that are next him? Arthur Armeſtrong ſir. You there Colloſſe? My name is Stutchell Legg. Troth, and thou art well underlay'd indeed, A couple of foot-ball players I warrant them. Item: — a pox upon't, here's bawdery, Ile rake noe deeper in this puddle. — ſo. And what muſt we call you? Ganimede Filpot▪ Thou ſhould'ſt be a good fellow by thy name. Come on; what glorious title I beſeech you Has bounteous Nature fixt on you: nay open. My name is Hugo obligation. How? Hugo obligation? 'pray thee Loveall Is not this ſhorne bearde villaine the preciſe Scriveneur, Would faine turne Prieſt? The very ſame I take it. Meddle not with me Nay doe not hold me. A whoreſon Inkebottle, and two skins of parchment, Dares he hope for my ſiſter, and a living? You ſlave, are Parſonages in this age ſo cheape? 'Pray thee Anteros. Doe not entreat me Loveall, He dyes: this hat is not more mortified. 'Pray thee be quiet. Hang him, a death's too good For ſuch a raſcall. — Sirrah, 'le cut indentur's Vpon your skin. And here's another Villayne, Whoſe very countenance ſpeakes Servingman, Filpot come hither. Nay but Anteros. Death man! our Vniverſities doe ſwarme, They have more Schollers then they know to ſpend While they are Sweet: and muſt ſuch Rogues as theſe, Whoſe height of knowledge, is to ſpit and ſnuffle, And talke ſome 3. houres non-ſenſe, ſhoulder them Out of their places? what is 't that makes ſo many Of our quick witt's turne Ieſuits, and forſake Both their Religion, and their Country thinke you? Sirrah noe more then thus, lye and thou dyeſt. Have not you beene a Serving man ſometimes? Yes truely ſir, I'le not deny't, I was A gentlemans butler once. I told you ſo. The very chipping's hang in's eye-brow's ſtill. His face unto this inſtant minute ſhines With broken beere that was his fees, ſtand by, And doe not hope ſo large a benefit From me as to be kill'd, live, live, unhappy. You M. know little know you whoſe box is this? Truely 'tis mine, verily.