The Vow Breaker, or The Fair Maid of Clifton · chunk 2 of 36
Sampson, William · published 1636 · first performed or written 1625 [1625(?)-1636] (Annals) tragedy T4 Love-longing and the lover's complaint typicality 0.86 · 506 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T4: love, heart, sweet, loves, fair, phillis, eyes, beauty, amyntas, lovers.
Be it writ in brass My love shall be as durable as that! Now by this kiss, nay I will second that, When I this hand bequeath to any one But my sweet Bateman; then may I ever From heaven, and goodness resta castaway, If e'er I give this hand, to any one But my sweet Bateman. Thy constancy I resalute. Death only separates me from thy love. Alive or dead I shall enjoy thee then Spite of thy father's frowns. Why then up-with your bag; and baggage, and to Saint Mary's presently the Priest stays, the clerk whines to say Amen! and for th'official scholars love buttered loaves, an Angel will persuade him to consent, we that live by the sins of the people may dispense with venial toys. Thou art merry still. Faith, and shallbe as long as I keep me out of Cupid's manacles, dost hear Lover? take her now thou hast her i'th' vain trust not we wenches, theirs as much truth in us, as in Knights o'th' post; if she swear love today, she'll unswear it tomorrow with a safe conscience; stand not shall I shall I, take me her to have, and to hold, and if either of you repent your bargain within a twelvemonth— What then! Then you shall fetch no Bacon at Dunmowe; we young wenches in our loves are like lapwings, if once we creep out o'th' shells, we run from out old loves like Scopperils, women's minds are planetary, and amble as fast as Virginals jacks, if you stop 'em not in true time, you mar all your music. See here's your Fathers. Alas what wilt thou do. Not shrink a jot for thee. I charge thee on my blessing leave that boy. Father! sir. Come, come, come. Must your appetite be married to beggary Is this the only Phoenix of the World? Boot, boot, boot, thou art malapert, false, proud, A wretched miscreant, and dissembler, H' shall enjoy her, she's his lawful wife Thy hand enstated hers, though falsely now Thou playst the counterfeit. Well said old cock, would thy spurs were new rowelled that thou mightst pick out his eyes. Still are your eyes gadding that way, know this I'll sooner marry thee unto some slave Whom mine own will can subordinate Rather than to him. Is virtue grown to so absurd a rate It gains no better credit with base worldlings. Tell me Boot. Does not his birth, and breeding equal hers, Are not my revenues correspondent To equal thine; his purity of blood Runs in as sweet a stream, and natural heat As thine, or hers; his exterior parts May parallel hers, or any others In a true harmony of lawful love. Wast not thine own motion, didst not give way, And intercourse to their privacies? Didst thou not make me draw conveyances Did not th'assurance of thy Lands seem probal, Boot, Boot thou shall not carry it thus I'll make thee know theirs justice to be had If thou deniest it.
seed 43: T2 · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Be it writ in brasse My love shall be as durable as that! Now by this kisse, nay I will second that, When I this hand bequeath to any one But my sweete Bateman; then may I ever From heaven, and goodnes resta cast-away, If e're I▪ give this hand, to any one But my sweete Bateman. Thy constancy I resalute. Death onely separates me from thy love. Alive or dead I shall enjoy thee then Spite of thy fathers frownes. Why then up-with your bag; and baggage, and to Saint Maries presently the Priest stayes, the Clarke whynes to say Amen! and for th'officiall schollers love butterd loaves, an Angell will perswade him to consent, we that live by the sinnes of the people may dispense with veniall toyes. Thou art merry still. Faith, and shalbe as long as I keepe me out of Cupids mannacles, doost heare Lover? take her now thou hast her i'th vaine trust not we wenches, theirs asmuch truth in us, as in Knightes o'th post; if she sweare love to day, shee'le unsweare it to morrow with a safe conscience; stand not shall I shall I, take me her to have, and to hold, and if eyther of you repent your bargaine within a twelue-month— VVhat then! Then you shall fetch no Bacon at Dunmowe; we young wenches in our loves are like Lapwinges, if once we creepe out o'th shells, we run from out ould loves like Scopperells, weomens minds are planetary, and amble as fast as Virginalls Iackes, if you stop 'em not in true time, you marre all your musique. See heres your Fathers. Alas what wilt thou doe. Not shrinke a jot for thee. I charge thee on my blessing leave that boy. Father! sir. Come, come, come. Must your appetite be married to beggery Is this the onely Phoenix of the World? Boote, boote, boote, thou art malapert, false, proud, A wretched miscreant, and dissembler, H' shall enjoy her, shees his lawfull wife Thy hand enstated hers, though falsely now Thou plaist the counterfet. Well said ould cocke, would thy spurrs were new rowell'd that thou mightst picke out his eyes. Still are your eyes gadding that way, know this I'le sooner marry thee unto some slave Whom mine owne will can subordinate Rather then to him. Is vertue growne to so absurd a rate It gaines no better credit with base wordlings. Tell me Boote. Does not his birth, and breeding equall hers, Are not my revenues correspondent To equall thine; his purity of bloud Runs in as sweete a streame, and naturall heate As thine, or hers; his exteriour parts May parralell hers, or any others In a true harmony of lawfull love. Wast not thine owne motion, didst not give way, And entercourse to their privacies? Didst thou not make me draw conveighances Did not th'assurance of thy Lands seeme proball, Boote, Boote thou shall not carry it thus I'le make thee know theirs justice to be had If thou denyst it.