Ford, John · published 1633 · first performed or written 1632 [1632-1633] (Annals) tragedy · Queen Henrietta Maria's Men · Phoenix/Cockpit unassigned nearest T33 Fathers, daughters and marriage negotiat · 493 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T33: daughter, marriage, father, love, davus, matter, son, chremes, wife, mother.
How like you this, Colona, 'tis too true? Did not this man protest to be your husband? Ay me, to me he did. What else, what else, Petruchio? and Madam, my quondam daughter, I hope h'aue passed some huge words of matrimony to you too. Alas, to me he did. And how many more, the great Incubus of hell knows best: Petruchio, give me your hand, mine own daughter in this arm, and yours, Colona, in this; there, there, sit ye down together; never rise, as you hope to inherit our blessings, till you have plotted some brave revenge: think upon it to purpose, and you shall want no seconds to further it, be secret one to another: Come, Petruchio, let 'em alone, the wenches will demur on't, and for the process, we'll give 'em courage. You counsel wisely, I approve your plot: Think on your shames, and who it was that wrought 'em. ay, ay, ay, leave them alone: to work, wenches, to work.— We are quite ruined. True, Colona, Betrayed to infamy, deceived and mocked By an unconstant Villain; what shall's do? I am with child. Hey-ho, and so am I: But what shall's do now? This; with cunning words First prove his love; he knows I am with child. And so he knows I am: I told him on't Last meeting in the lobby, and in troth The false deceiver laughed. Now by the stars he did the like to me, And said, 'twas well I was so haply sped. Those very words He used to me; it fretted me toth' heart: I'll be revenged. Peace, here's a noise methinks: Let's rise, we'll take a time to talk of this? Will ye? hold: death of my delights, have ye lost all sense of shame? y'are best roar about the Court, that I have been your woman's-barber, and trimmed ye, kind Morona. Defiance to thy kindness, thoust robbed me of my good name, didst promise to love none but me, me, only me; swor'st, like an unconscionable villain, to marry me the twelfth day of the month, two months since; didst make my bed thine own, mine house thine own, mine, all and every thing thine own, I will exclaim to the world on thee, and beg justice of the Duke himself: Villain, I will. Yet again; nay, and if you be in that mood, shut up your fore-shop, I'll be your journeyman no longer: why wise Madam Dryfist, could your mouldy brain be so addle, to imagine I would marry a stale widow at six and forty? Marry gip, are there not varieties enough of thirteen? come, stop your Clap-dish, or I'll purchase a Carting for you: By this light, I have toiled more with this tough Carrion hen, then with ten Quails, scarce grown into their first Feathers. O Treason to all honesty or Religion, speak thou perjured-damnable-ungracious-defiler of women, who shall father my child which thou hast begotten?
seed 43: T6 · seed 44: T7 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
How like you this, Colona, 'tis too true? Did not this man protest to be your husband? Ay me, to me he did. What else, what else, Petruchio? and Madam, my quondam daughter, I hope h'aue past some huge words of matrimony to you too. Alas, to me he did. And how many more, the great Iucubus of hel knows best: Petruchio, giue me your hand, mine owne daughter in this arme, and yours, Colona, in this; there, there, sit ye down together; neuer rise, as you hope to inherit our blessings, till you haue plotted some braue reuenge: thinke vpon it to purpose, and you shall want no seconds to further it, be secret one to another: Come, Petruchio, let 'em alone, the wenches will demurre on't, and for the processe, wee'll giue 'em courage. You counsell wisely, I approue your plot: Thinke on your shames, and who it was that wrought 'em. I, I, I, leaue them alone: to worke, wenches, to worke.— We are quite ruin'd. True, Colona, Betray'd to infamy, deceiu'd and mock'd By an vnconstant Villaine; what shall's doe? I am with childe. Hey-ho, and so am I: But what shall's doe now? This; with cunning words First proue his loue; he knowes I am with child. And so he knowes I am: I told him on't Last meeting in the lobby, and in troth The false deceiuer laugh'd. Now by the starres he did the like to me, And said, 'twas well I was so hap'ly sped. Those very words He vs'd to me; it fretted me to'th heart: I'le be reueng'd. Peace, here's a noyse me thinkes: Let's rise, wee'll take a time to talke of this? Will yee? hold: death of my delights, haue yee lost all sense of shame? y'are best rore about the Court, that I haue beene your womans-barber, and trimm'd yee, kinde Morona. Defiance to thy kindnesse, th'ast robd me of my good name, didst promise to loue none but mee, mee, onely mee; swor'st, like an vnconscionable villaine, to marry mee the twelfth day of the month, two months since; didst make my bed thine owne, mine house thine owne, mine, all and euery thing thine owne, I will exclaime to the world on thee, and begge Iustice of the Duke himselfe: Villaine, I will. Yet againe; nay, and if you be in that mood, shut vp your fore-shop, I'le be your Iourny-man no longer: why wise Madam Dryfist, could your mouldy braine bee so addle, to imagine I would marry a stale widdow at six and forty? Marry gip, are there not varieries enough of thirteene? come, stop your Clap-dish, or I'le purchase a Carting for you: By this light, I haue toyl'd more with this tough Carrion hen, then with ten Quailes, scarce growne into their first Feathers. O Treason to all honesty or Religion, speake thou periur'd-damnable-vngracious-defiler of women, who shall father my child which thou hast begotten?