Heywood, Thomas · published 1633 · first performed or written c.1627 (Annals) tragicomedy · Lady Elizabeth's Men · Phoenix/Cockpit unassigned nearest T4 Love-longing and the lover's complaint · 527 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T4: love, heart, sweet, loves, fair, phillis, eyes, beauty, amyntas, lovers.
All's one to me, become they me, or not, Or be I fair, or foul, in others eyes, So I appear so to my Lionell, He is the glass, in whom I judge my face, By whom in order, I will dress these curls, And place these jewels, only to please him, Why dost smile. To here a Woman, that thinks herself so wise, speak so foolishly, that knows well, and does ill. Teach me wherein I err. I'll tell thee Daughter; In that thou knowest thyself to be beloved of so many, and settlest thy affection, only upon one; Doth the Mill grind only, when the Wind sits in one corner? Or Ships only Sail, when it's in this, or that quarter? Is he a cunning Fencer, that lies but at one Guard? Or he a Skilful Musician, that plays but on one String? Is there but one way to the Wood? And but one Bucket that belongs to the Well? To affect one, and despise all other, becomes the precise Matron, not the Prostitute; the loyal Wife, not the loose Wanton: Such have I been, as you are now, and should learn, to Sail with all Winds, defend all Blows, make Music with all Strings, know all the ways, to the Wood, and like a good traveling Hackney, learn to drink of all Waters. May I miscarry in my Blanda's love; If I that old damnation, do not send To Hell, before her time. I would not have you Mother, teach me aught, That tends to injure him. Well look to't when 'tis late, and then repent at leisure, as I have done; Thou seest, here's nothing but Prodigality and Pride, Wantoning, and Wasting, Rioting, and Revelling, Spoiling, and Spending, Gluttony, and gormandizing, all goes to Havoc, and can this hold out? When he hath nothing left, to help himself, how can he Harbour thee? Look at length, to Drink from a dry Bottle, and feed from an empty Knapsack, look too 't, 'twill come to that. My parsimony shall begin in thee, And instantly, for from this hour, I vow, That thou no more shalt Drink upon my cost, Nor taste the smallest Fragment from my Board; I'll see thee starve i'th' street first. Live to one man? a jest, thou may'st as well, tie thyself to one Gown; and what Fool, but will change with the Fashion, Yes, do, Confine thyself to one Garment, and use no Variety, and see how soon it will Rot, and turn to Rags. Those Rags, be thy Reward; Oh my sweet Blanda, Only for Thee, I wish my Father dead, And ne'er to Rouse us from our Sweet delight; But for this Hag, this Beldame, she whose back, Hath made her Items, in my mercer's Books, Whose raucous Guts, I have Stuffed with Delicates, Nay even to Surfeit; And whose frozen Blood, I have Warmed with Aquavitae; Be this day My last of Bounty, to a Wretch Ingrate, But unto Thee, a new Indenture Scaled, Of an affection fixed, and Permanent, I'll love thee still, be 't but to give the lie, To this old Cankered Worm.
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)
All's one to mee, become they mee, or not, Or bee I faire, or fowle, in others eyes, So I appeare so to my Lionell, Hee is the glasse, in whom I iudge my face, By whom in order, I will dresse these curles, And place these Iewels, onely to please him, Why do'st smile. To heere a Woman, that thinks her selfe so wise, speake so foolishlie, that knowes well, and does ill. Teach me wherein I erre. Ile tell thee Daughter; In that thou knowest thy selfe to bee beloued of so many, and setlest thy affection, only vpon one; Doth the Mill grinde onely, when the Wind sits in one corner? Or Shippsonely Saile, when it's in this, or that quarter? Is hee a cunning Fencer, that lies but at one Guard? Or he a Skilfull Musician, that plaies but on one String? Is there but one way to the Wood? And but one Bucket that belongs to the Well? To affect one, and despise all other, becomes the precise Matron, not the Prostitute; the loyall Wife, not the loose Wanton: Such haue I beene, as you are now, and should learne, to Saile with all Windes, defend all Blowes, make Musicke with all Strings, know all the wayes, to the Wood, and like a good trauelling Hackney, learne to drinke of all Waters. May I miscarry in my Blandaes loue; If I that old damnation, doe not send To Hell, before her time. I would not haue you Mother, teach me ought, That tends to iniure him. Well looke too't when 'tis late, and then repent at leasure, as I haue done; Thou see'st, heeres nothing but Prodigallity and Pride, Wantoning, and Wasting, Rioting, and Reuelling, Spoyling, and Spending, Gluttony, and Gormondising, all goes to Hauocke, and can this hold out? When he hath nothing left, to helpe himselfe, how can he Harbour thee? Looke at length, to Drinke from a dry Bottle, and feed from an emptie Knap-sacke, looke too 't, 'twill come to that. My parsemony shall begin in thee, And instantly, for from this houre, I vow, That thou no more shalt Drinke vpon my cost, Nor taste the smallest Fragment from my Board; Ile see thee starue ith' street first. Liue to one man? a ieast, thou may'st aswell, tie thy selfe to one Gowne; and what Foole, but will change with the Fashion, Yes, doe, Confine thy selfe to one Garment, and vse no Varietie, and see how foone it will Rot, and turne to Raggs. Those Raggs, be thy Reward; Oh my sweet Blanda, Onely for Thee, I wish my Father dead, And neere to Rouse vs from our Sweet delight; But for this Hag, this Beldam, shee whose backe, Hath made her Items, in my Mercers Bookes, Whose raucnous Guts, I haue Stuft with Delicates, Nay euen to Surfit; And whose frozen Blood, I haue Warmed with Aquauitae; Be this day My last of Bounty, to a Wretch Ingrate, But vnto Thee, a new Indenture Scaled, Of an affection fixt, and Permanent, Ile loue thee still, bee 't but to giue the lye, To this old Cancker'd Worme.