Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T28: married, marriage, wedding, day, bride, father, wife, luce, love, husband.
Not all this while once see me. His occasions, perhaps enforce his absence. His occasions: Unless he find occasion of new Love. What could enforce such absence from his spouse: A I growne fowle and blacke, since my espousals. It should not seem so; For the shop is daily, Customed with store of Chapmen, such as come To cheapen Love. O no, I am myself? But Chartly he is changed. You know that Gentleman. Escape him if thou canst. He cannot, I arrest you; At whose suit. Not at mine own, that's dashed, I love thee not. Thou art a Spaniard, Gipsy, a mere Blackamoor: Again, I say I love thee not. A blackamoor, a Gipsy? Sure I am changed indeed, and that's the cause My Husband left me so, this Gentleman Once termed me beautiful, how look I Ioseph. As well as ere you did, fat, fresh, and fair. You lie boy, pocket that, and now be gone. And what shall then become of my Mistress. I'll wait upon your Mistress. I know you will not wait on such a Gipsie. Yes Luce on such a Gipsie: Boy, abi abi. Abide fir, you need not fear that I have no purpose to leave her. Now you are going to the wedding-house. You are bid to be a Bride maid, are you not. What wedding sir, or whose? Why Chartley's; Luce hath he been thy friend so long, and would not bid thee to write on his Bride. Why look'st thou red and pale, and both, and neither. To Mr. Chartley's Bridals, why, to whom, Should he be married. To Grace of Gracious street. To Gratiana? Beshrow you sir you do not use me well, To buzz into mine ears these strange untruths: I tell you sir, 'tis as impossible That they two should match: as Earth and Heaven to meet. You'll not believe it, pray then hark within, The Nuptial music echoing to their joys. But you give credit to no certainties: I told you but a tale, a lie, a fable? A monstrous, a notorious idle untruth, That you were black, and that I loved you not. And you could credit that. Who's telltruth now. Know you that man, or know you that fine Virgin: Whom by the arm he leads. I'll not endure't: Heaven give you joy sir: I thank you: Luce? Look to the Maid she faints. Grace, come not near her Grace. Father keep off, on Gentlemen apace. she's troubled with the falling sickness, for Oft hath she fallen before me. Nay if it be no otherwise, on gentlemen. Let those with her strive to recover her. Keep off, the disease is infectious: If it were in a man, it were nothing, but the falling sickness in a woman is dangerous. My other father in Law, now shall I be utterly shamed, If he assure to know me, I'll out face him.
seed 43: T6 · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Not all this while once see mee. His occasions, perhaps inforce his absence. His occasions: Vnlesse hee find occasion of new Love. What could inforce such absence from his spouse: A I growne fowle and blacke, since my espousals. It should not seeme so; For the shop is daily, Custom'd with store of Chap-men, such as come To cheapen Love. O no, I am my self? But Chartly hee is changed. You know that Gentleman. Escape him if thou canst. Hee cannot, I arrest you; At whose suite. Not at mine owne, thats dasht, I loue thee not. Thou art a Spaniard, Gipsee, a meere Blackamore: Againe, I say I loue thee not. A Blackemore, a Gipsy? Sure I am chang'd indeed, and thats th cause My Husband left mee so, this Gentleman Once tearmd mee beautifull, how looke I Ioseph. As well as ere you did, fat, freh, and fayre▪ You lye boy, pocket that, and now be gon. And what shall then become of my Mistresse▪ Ile waite vpon your Mistresse. I know you will not waite on such a Gipsie. Yes Luce on such a Gipfie: Boy, abi abi. Abide fir, you neede not feare that I haue no purpose to leaue her. Now you are going to the wedding-house. You are bid to be a Bride maid, are you not. What wedding sir, or whose? Why Chartleyes; Luce hath hee bin thy friend so long, and would not bid thee to wite on his Bride. Why lookst thou red and pale, and both, and neither. To Mr. Chartleyes Bridals, why, to whom, Should hee be married. To Grace of Gratious street. To Gratiana? Behrow you sir you doe not use mee well, To buze into mine res these strange vntruths: I tell you sir, 'tis as impossible That they two should mach: as Earth and Heauen to meet. You'l not beleeue it, pray then harke within, The Nuptiall musicke ecchoing to their ioyes. But you giue credit to no certaintyes: I told you but a tale, a lye, a fable? A monstrous, a notorious idle untruth, That you were blacke, and that I lou'd you not. And you could credit that. Who's tell-troth now. Know yo that an, or know you that fin Virgin: Whom by the arme hee leades. I'le not indure't: Heauen giue you joy sir: I thanke you: Luce? Looke to the Maid shee faints. Grace, come not neere her Grace. Father keepe off, on Gentlemen apace. Shes troubled with the falling sicknesse, for Oft hath shee fallen before mee. Nay if it bee no otherwise, on gentlemen. Let those with her striue to recouer her. Keepe off, the disease is infectious: If it were in a man, it were nothing, but the falling sicknesse in a woman is dangerous. My tother father in Lawe, now shall I bee vtterly sham'd, If hee assure to know mee, I'le out face him.