R., W. · published 1633 · first performed or written 1622 [1621-1623] (Annals) comedy · Red Bull (Revels) Company (first) (?) unassigned nearest T44 Drinking: wine, ale and taverns · 489 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T44: drink, wine, numps, ale, butler, pot, sing, moy, drunk, win.
There 'tis, send thee good luck with't, and go drunk to bed. Do not you be too rash, for she observes you, and is infinitely affected to good breeding. I wonot speak I tell you, till you hold up your finger, or fall a whistling. Come, we'll pay at Bar, and to the Mitre in Breadstreet, we'll make a mad night on't, please ye sweet Ladies but to walk into Breadstreet, this gentleman has a foolish sleight supper, and he most ingenuously professes, it would appear to him, the Meridian Altitude of his desired happiness, but to have the table decked with a pair of perfections, so exquisitely refulgent. He talks all sack, and he will drink no small Beer: Pray lead, and he shall follow. Bless mine eyes, my heart is full of changes. Oh, is it so, I have heard there be more changes in a woman's heart in an hour, then can be rung up on six bells, seven days, well go thy ways, little dost thou think how thou shalt be betrayed, within this four and twenty hours, thou shalt be mine own Wife, flesh and blood, by Father and Mother, o tempting handsome Sir. But sirrah, canst tell what my Mistress means to do with her suitors? Nay, nay, I know not, but there is one of them I am sure worth looking after. Which is he, I prithee? Oh Iohn, Master Randall, Iohn. The Welshman. The witty man, the pretty man, the singing man, he has the daintiest ditty, so full of pith, so full of spirit, as they say. Ditties, they are the ends of old Ballets. Old ends, I am sure they are new beginnings with me. Here comes my Mistress: Who was that knocked at' Gate? Why your Welsh wooer. Alas, the sight on's eyes enough to singe my little Maidenhead, I shall never be able to endure him. When high King Henry, second ruled this land, the couple of her name, Besides her Queen, was teerely loved, a fair and Princely— widows, Hark you widows, Randalls was disturbed in cogitations, about Lands, Ploughs, and Cheese presses in Wales, and begar her have forgot where her, and her meet soon at pright dark Evenings. Why on the Change, in the Dutch walks. Oh haw, have her— but Randalls was talk no Dutch, pray meet her in the Welsh walk, was no Welsh walk there? Fie, no, there are no Welsh Merchants there. Mas, was ferry true, was aule Shentlemen in Wales, her never saw her Shamber-maid, pray where was her Shamber-maid? Taken up i'th' Kitchen Sir. Can her make wedding pedd pravely for Randalls, and widows? Pray tell him Iarvis where she can or no. Sir, not to delay, but to debilitate the strength of your Active apprehension of my Mistress favour. Was ferry good words. Hark in your ear, she will have her nest feathered with no British breed.
seed 43: T40 · seed 44: T40 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
There 'tis, send thee good lucke with't, and goe drunke to bed. Do not you be too rash, for she observes you, and is infinitely affected to good breeding. I wonnot speake I tell you, till you hold up your finger, or fall a vvhistling. Come, weele pay at Barre, and to the Miter in Bredstreete, weele make a mad night on't, please ye sweete Ladies but to walke into Bredstreete, this gentleman has a fooish sleight supper, and he most ingenuously professes, it would appeare to him, the Meridian Altitude of his desired happinesse, but to have the table deckt with a paire of perfections, so exquisitely refulgent. He talks all sacke, and he wil drinke no small Beere: Pray leade, and he shall follow. Blesse mine eyes, my heart is ful of changes. Oh, is it so, I have heard there be more changes in a womans heart in an houre, then can be rung up on sixe bells, seven dayes, well go thy wayes, little do'st thou think how thou shalt be betrayed, within this foure and twenty houres, thou shalt be mine owne Wife, flesh and blood, by Father and Mother, ô tempting hansome Sir. But sirrah, can'st tell what my Mistresse meanes to doe with her suiters? Nay, nay, I know not, but there is one of them I am sure worth looking after. Which is he, I prithee? Oh Iohn, Master Randall, Iohn. The Welchman. The witty man, the pretty man, the singing man, he has the dantiest dittie, so full of pith, so full of spirit, as they say. Ditties, they are the ends of old Ballets. Old ends, I am sure they are new beginnings with me. Here comes my Mistresse: Who was that knokt at' Gate? Why your welch wooer. Alas, the sight on's eyes enough to singe my little May denhead, I shall never be able to endure him. When high King Henry, second rul'd this land, the couple of her name, Besides her Queene, was teerely lou'd, a faire and Princely—Widdowes, Harke you Widdowes, Randals was disturb'd in cogitatiens, about Lands, Ploughs, and Cheese presses in Wales, and becat her have forgot where her, and her meete soone at pright darke Evenings. Why on the Change, in the Dutch walkes. Oh haw, have her—but Randals was talke no Ducth, pray meete her in the Welch walke, was no Welch walke there? Fie, no, there are no Welch Merchants there. Mas, was ferry true, was aule Shentlemen in Wales, her never saw her Shamber-maid, pray where was her Shamber-maid? Taken up i'th Kitchin Sir. Can her make wedding pedd pravely for Randals, and Widdowes? Pray tell him Iarvis where she can or no. Sir, not to delay, but to debellitate the strength of your Active apprehension of my Mistresse favour. Was ferry good woords. Hearke in your eare, shee will have her nest feathered with no Brittish breed.