Shirley, James · published 1637 · first performed or written 1634 [licensed for stage, Jun 24] (Annals) comedy · Queen Henrietta Maria's Men · Phoenix/Cockpit unassigned nearest T23 Husbands, wives and jealousy · 527 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T23: wife, husband, cuckold, jealousy, woman, jealous, mistress, love, house, honest.
Once more, and nature work, You say you love your husband, and account His absence the misfortune, that doth sit Most heavy on your soul, this is increased By the despair of his return; since all Hop's fled, to satisfy his deep engagements, Which threaten ruin here, I have a mortgage Of his, for sums lent by my thriving father, Your jointure, (but released by you, I take it) I am so much a servant to thy beauty, The first night I embrace thy delicate body, The Lands thy own again, a round encouragement. What do I hear? If Lords should pay so dear for every capering, 'twould try the back of their estate: but mark me, I ha' not done, sum up his other debts, They swell to thousands, be but fair conditioned, For every time thou admitst me after, to thy Pillow, I'll strike of an hundred pound, Till all the debts be unraveled: In the mean time Thy husband shall return, and walk the Town, Free as an Alderman, and be mace-proof, Shall live, and lie with thee, and love thee too, And praise thee for this noble composition, What sayst? I find thy wisdom coming to thee. Should it be known, who'll think the worse of thee? Alas, good soul, 'twas pure love to thy husband, They must imagine, wrought with thee. What woman But would to save a husband's life, and fortune, Venture a trifle? nay they shall commend Thy act, and read the story to their children, And envy the example was not theirs, I shall have all the blame, but I'll endure't For thy sake, all the tyranny will be mine, But to secure thy peace, and do thy husband A courtesy, I'll run a thousand hazards. Do I appear now? Yes, a glorious monster. Good Heaven! Once more, will you consent? Never oh, never: let me tell you, sir, You have so little prevailed upon my Love, That almost I forget my charity Y'are a bad man: I'll sooner meet a basilisk, and be one. Nay then.— He draws his poniard. What do you mean? If soft entreaties With all that man can promise, move you not To the delight, I'll snatch it from your bosom, Nay never shake, I'll change that modest paleness Into a blush, shall speak thy blood as hot As mine, or leave thy veins dry as the face Of earth, when winter hath deflowered her cheek, And sealed up all her beauties in a frost. Ha, Madam, dead, help: I did but try thee, My Lady Plot, a curse upon your Plots. Jacintha, Ladies, I am undone, no help? Peace you'll wake my master. Help here, the Lady Peregrine is dead. If she be dead, she won't make a noise, Would all i'th' house were dead, we should be at quiet. Carry yourself civilly an I'll send somebody. I shall be in for murder, oh my fate! Alas my sister, what ha' you done, my Lord? I know not the extent of my offence, But trust me, i le not fly past the next Chamber. Show your best charity, oh my soul is wounded.
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)
Once more, and nature worke, You say you love your husband, and account His absence the misfortune, that doth sit Most heavie on your soule, this is increas'd By the dispaire of his returne; since all Hop's fed, to satisfie his deepe ingagements, Which threaten ruine here, I have a mortgage Of his, for summs lent by my thriving father, Your joynture, (but releast by you, I take it) I am so much a servant to thy beautie, The first night I embrace thy delicate bodie, The Lands thy owne agen, a round encouragement. What doe I heare? If Lords should pay so deare for every capering, T'wou'd trie the backe of their estate: but marke mee, I ha not done, summe up his other debts, They swell to thousands, be but faire condition'd, For everie time thou admitst mee after, to thy Pillow, I'le strike of an hundred pound, Till all the debts be unravel'd: In the meane time Thy husband shall returne, and walke the Towne, Free as an Alder-man, and be mace-proofe, Shall live, and lie with thee, and love thee too, And praise thee for this noble composition, What saist? I finde thy wisedome comming to thee. Should it be knowne, who'le thinke the worse of thee? Alas, good soule, 'twas pure love to thy husband, They must imagine, wrought with thee. What woman But would to save a husbands life, and fortune, Venture a trifle? nay they shall commend Thy act, and reade the storie to their children▪ And envy the example was not theirs, I shall have all the blame, but i'le endur't For thy sake, all the tyrannie will be mine, But to secure thy peace, and doe thy husband A curtesie, I'le runne a thousand hazards. Doe I appeare now? Yes, a glorious monster. Good Heaven! Once more, will you consent? Neveroh, never: let mee tell you, sir, You have so litle prevail'd upon my Love, That allmost I forget my charitie Y'are a bad man: I'le sooner meet a basiliske, and be one. Nay then.—Hee drawes his Poynard. What doe you meane? If soft intreaties With all that man can promise, move you not To the delight, I'le snatch it from your bosome, Nay never shake, I'le change that modest palenesse Into a blush, shall speake thy blood as hot As myne, or leave thy veines dry as the face Of earth, when winter hath deflowred her cheeke, And seal'd up all her beauties in a frost. Ha, Madam, dead, helpe: I did but trie thee, My Ladie Plott, a curse upon your Plotts. Jacintha, Ladies, I am undone, no helpe? Peace you'le wake my master. Helpe here, the Ladie Peregrine is dead. If shee be dead, shee wonot make a noyse, Would al i'th house were dead, we should be at quiet. Carrie your selfe civillie an i'le send somebody. I shall be in for murther, oh my fate! Alas my sister, what ha you done, my Lord? I know not the extent of my offence, But trust me, i le not flie past the next Chamber. Shew your best charitie, oh my soule is wounded.