Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T51: esau, iacob, father, son, isaac, god, love, birthright, parents, thing.
Alas poor fool, I am sorry for thee, but yet cannot help thee, as I am a Gentleman. Why say Luce, thou losest now forty shillings worth of Credit, stay but a time, and it shall bring thee in a thousand pounds worth of commodity. Son, Son, had I esteemed my profit more Than I have done my credit, I had now Been many thousands richer: but you see, Truth and good dealing bear an humble sail; That little I enjoy, it is with quiet, Got with good conscience, kept with good report: And that I still shall labour to preserve. But do you hear me? Nothing I'll hear, that tends unto the ruin Of mine, or of my daughter's honesty. Shall I be held a Broker to lewd Lust, Now in my wane of years? Will you but hear me? Not in this case. I that have lived thus long, Reported well, esteemed a welcome Guest At every burdened Table, there respected; Now to be held a Pander to my Daughter? That I should live to this! But hark you Father? A Bawd to mine own child! Father? To my sweet Luce! Father? Deal with me like a Son, then call me Father; I that have had the tongues of every man Ready to crown my Reputation: The hands of all my Neighbours to subscribe To my good like; and such as could not write, Ready with Palsy and unlettered fingers, To set their scribbling marks. Why Father in Law? Thou hadst a Mother Luce; 'tis woe with me To say thou hadst, but haste not; a kind Wife, And a good Nurse she was: she, had she lived To hear my name thus canvased, and thus tossed, Seven years before she died, I had been a Widower Seven years before I was: Heaven rest her soul, She is in Heaven I hope. Why so now, these be good words, I knew these storms would have a shower, and then they would cease. Now if your anger be over, hear me. Well, say on Son. Stay but a Month, 'tis but four Weeks; nay, 'tis February, the shortest Month of the year, and in that time I shall be at full age; and the Land being entailed, my Father can disinherit me of nothing. Is your spleen down now Have I satisfied you? Well, I see you choleric hasty men, are the kindest when all is done. Here's such wetting of handkerchers, he weeps to think of his Wife, she weeps to see her Father cry! Peace fool, we shall else have thee claim kindred of the Woman killed with kindness. Well Son, my anger's past; yet I must tell you, It grieves me that you should thus slight it off, Concerning us, no such a dear degree. In private be it spoke, my Daughter tells me, she's both a Wife and Maid.
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)
Alas poore foole, I am sorry for thee, but yet cannot helpe thee, as I am a Gentleman. Why say , thou losest now shillings worth of Credit, stay but a time, and it shall bring thee in a thousand pounds worth of commoditie. Son, Son, ad I esteem'd my profit more Then I have done my credit, I had now Beene many thousands richer: but you see, Truth and good dealing beare an humble saile; That little I injoy, it is with qiet, Got with good conscience, kept with good report: And that I still shall labour to preserve. But doe you heare mee? Nothing Ile heare, that tends unto the ruine Of mine, or of my Daughters honestie. Shall I be held a Broker to lewd Lust, Now in my waine of yeares? Will you but heare ? Not in this case. I that have liv'd thus long, Reported well, esteem'd a welcome Guest At every Table, there respected; Now to be held a to my Daughter? That I should live to this But harke you Father? A Bawd to mine owne child▪ Father? To my sweet Lce! Father? Deale with me like a Son, then call me Father; I that have had the tongues of every man Ready to crowne my Reputation: The hands of all my Neighbours to subscribe To my good like; and such as could not write, Ready with Palsie and fingers, To set their cribling markes. Why Father in Law? Thou hadst a Mother Luce; 'tis with me To say thou hadst, but hast not; a kind Wife, And a good Nurse she was: she, had she liv'd To heare my name thus canvast, and thus toss'd, Seven yeares before she dy'd, I had beene a Widower Seven yeares before I was: Heaven rest her soule, Shee is in Heaven I hope. Why so now, these be good words, I knew these stormes would have a showre, and then they would . Now if your anger be over, heare me. Well, say on Son. Stay but a Moneth, 'tis but foure Weekee; nay, 'tis February, the shortest Moneth of the yeare, and in that time I shall be at full age; and the Land being intail'd, my Father can dis-inherit mee of nothing. Is your I satisfied you? Well, I see you chollericke hasty men, are the kindest when all is done. Here's such of , weepes to thinke of his Wife, shee weepes to see her Father cry ▪ Peace , wee shall else have thee dred of the Woman kill'd with kindnesse. Well Son, my anger's past; yet I must tell you, It grieves mee that you should thus it off, Concerning us, no such a deere degree. In private be it spoke, my Daughter tels me, Shee's both a Wife and Maid.