Heywood, Thomas · published 1636 · first performed or written 1635 [1634-1636] (Annals) tragicomedy · King's Men · Blackfriars unassigned nearest T33 Fathers, daughters and marriage negotiat · 478 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T33: daughter, marriage, father, love, davus, matter, son, chremes, wife, mother.
Mine? 'las, I have done nothing. Worthy your least good thought: if you (or hell) Can find a service to enjoin your slavs Mo e hard (or damnable) that may become (The Devil to will) a servant to effect, Urge one more trial. And with that I'll claim thee King of thyself and thy affections. And thus it is, for reasons yet concealed And strangely working in my mutinous thoughts, I would, and yet 'tis a request nor fitting Me to enjoin, nor thee to practise. Name it. And if I do't not— I am ashamed to own it, 'tis so uncomely and beyond the strength Of man to act: yet in a word, this night Thou shalt (denie't not) under my name and habit, Sleep in my marriage sheets and with my wife. Sleep with your wife? and is that all? Yes, all That I allow, if after I shall prove, art unchaste, so much as in a kiss, All thy past worth is blemished, never demand The reason on't, that's buried. I will do't; sleep with your wife? I'll do I, No eunuch like me. she's now gone to her Chamber. Ladies and all have left her, under this cloud, Go shroud thyself. 'Tis done, howe'er I rest, I'll rise bright honour's son WHat disturbs Valladaura? What means my son? To run, and roar, and bellow. You are not mad? As the great beast called Bull; Oh the cramp, the cramp! Where? Here, there, everywhere, in my Cry, my Mouth, my tongue, pull, and you love me pull. Where? In the middle there. What do you mean? Show you a true Emblem of myself, I am married. True, to my daughter. Yes, to a strumpet, to a lascivious strumpet, not possible to draw on my wedding shoes without a horn. You are too dark. And your daughter too light. Speak your griefs fully. As patience, not suffer me this piece Of frailty, cut out of the heart of beauty, Where I so loved, as it was doubtful whether She or my life were dearer to me; she Whom by me married, is this night Clasped with a stranger: makes her father's house The wedding chamber, and her nuptial sheets Reek to adulterate pleasure— Little to my honour, and this be true; Would, oh my lost life, I could prove it false, Fates not so merciful; late up at revels; I will not say some of her sect of late plied me with wine, to give her purpose food, But healths flew round, and with full wing, and still I was their aim: They missed their aim though; and yet but a fairer as soon as opportunity served me: Unseen I lest 'em, and by a private key, Went to my Chamber, where I said, I'll dare call her Neither my wife, nor Bride; your lustful daughter.
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)
Mine? 'las, I have done nothing. Worthy your least good thought: if you (or helf) Can finde a service to injoine your slavs Mo e hard (or damnable) that may become (The Devill to will) a servant to effect, Vrge one more triall. And with that Ile claime thee King of thy selfe and thy affections. And thusit is, for reasons yet conceal'd And strangely working in my mutinous thoughts, I would, and yet tis a request nor fitting Me to enjoyne, nor thee to practise. Name it. And if I doe't not— I am asham'd to owne it, Tis so uncomely and beyond the strength Of man to act: yet in a word, this night Thou shalt (denie't not) under my name and habit, Sleepe in my marriage sleets and with my wife. Sleepe with your wife? and is that all? Yes, all That I allow, if after I shall prove, , so much as in a kisse, All thy past worth i blemish'd, never demand The reason on't, that's buried. I will do't; sleepe with your wife? Ile do I, No Eunuke like mee. Shee's now gone to her Chamber. Ladies and all have left her, under this clowd, Goe shrow'd thy selfe. 'Tis done, How ere I , Ile rise bright honors sonne WHat disturbs Valladaura? What meanes my sonne? To runne, and roare, and bellow. You are not mad? As the great beast call'd Bull; Oh the crampe, the crampe! Where? Here, there, every where, in my Cry, my Mouth, my tongue, pull, and you love mee pull. Where? In the middle there. What doe you meane? Shew you a true Embleme of my selfe, I am married. True, to my daughter. Yes, to a strumpet, to a lascivious strumpet, not possible to draw on my wedding shooes without a hrne. You are too darke. And your daughter too light. Speake your griefes fully. As patience, not suffer me this piece Of frailty, cut out of the heart of beauty, Where I so lov'd, as it was doubtfull whether Shee or my life were deerer to mee; shee Whom by mee married, is this night Claspt with a stranger: makes her fathers house The wedding chamber, and her nuptiall sheetes Reeke to adulterate pleasure— Little to my honor▪ and this be true; Would, oh my lost life, I could prove it false, Fates not so mercifull; late up at revells; I will not say some of her sect of late Plide me with wine, to give her purpose food, But healths flew round, and with full wing, and still I was their aime: They mist their aime tho; and yet but a fayrer Assoone as opportunity serv'd me: Vnseene I lest 'em, and by a private key, Went to my Chamber, where I said, Ile dare call her' Neither my wife, nor Bride; your lustfull danghter.