Glapthorne, Henry · published 1640 · first performed or written 1638 [1636-1638; revised 1639] (Annals) not in BritDrama · Phoenix/Cockpit unassigned nearest T28 Marriage-making: weddings, brides and ma · 499 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T28: married, marriage, wedding, day, bride, father, wife, luce, love, husband.
Yes, at Christenings, where the good Wives, stead of burnt Wine and comfits, Drink healths to th' memory of all christian souls In Ale, scarce three hours old: eat cakes more tough Than glue or farthing gingerbread: then talk Of the last Blazing Star, or some new monster: Then drink, and cry heaven bless us from the Spaniard, While the learned vicar's wife expounds the Ballad Of 'twas a Lady's daughter in Paris properly, And so breaks up the wise assembly. And you That are the precious paragons of the City, Who scorn these harmless sports: can have your meetings At Islington, and Green Goose fair, and sip A zealous glass of Wine till the parched floor Be moistened with your virgin dew, then prattle How that you dreamed last night that Iohn the Mercer, Or Tom the draper's man at London-stone Was in your bed, and what sweet work he made there. Very right, and kissed you oftener than ere the good man did his Cow, and hugged you As the Devil hugged the Witch, that's right now. When you're married (For that you will be, or else run away With Costermongers, Mountebanks, or Tailors) Your husbands are more subject to you then Their bondmen are, whom by profuse expense You break beyond redemption from the Indies, the straits, or Barbary, see them lodged in Ludgate, And then turn pricking sempsters, till that trade Failing, you take yourselves (as to the last refuge) To the old occupation; till the Marshal Carry you to Bridewell, of which you're free, Even by your father's charters that have been Sometimes the masters of it, there I'll leave you, So farewell wildcats. Very right as I am a gentleman. I like his Clar, Or none shall be my husband. help me to laugh good wenches, I have talked Thy Uncle Clare into so free an humour, That he's resolved straight to take forth the licence, And marry us ith' morning. What odd fellow's this? Know you him Cosen Grace. Prithee good wit no more, we've overcome All foreign enemies, and 'tis unfit To war among ourselves. This is the pedant My father brought to mock us, good thine stuff, Get thee home to thy parish, And instruct Thy people wholesome Doctrine, for us, We have no zeal to learn. Life they'll persuade me out of myself, Clare, Grace, know you not me, not Thorowgood. Thorowgood, pray put your tricks on somebody, More easy to be wrought on, Thorowgood, Ha, ha, ha. What should these wenches mean, the five and shears Cannot resolve this mystery; they know me Better than I can know myself: 'twas she Advised me to this habit to deceive Her uncle's prying eyes, and why then Should they abuse me thus? the rest were made But fools in Quarto, but I find myself An ass in Folio: I'll away, and if I quit them not with an abuse as fine, I'll say there is no quickening spirit in wine.
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)
Yes, at Christnings, where the good Wives, stead of burnt Wine and Comfets, Drinke healths to th' memory of all christian soules In Ale, scarce three houres old: eat cakes more tough Then glew or farthing gingerbread: then talke Of the last Blasing Starre, or some new monster: Then drinke, and cry heaven blesse us from the Spaniard, While the learn'd Vicars wife expounds the Ballad Of'twas a Ladies daughter in Paris properly, And so breakes up the wise assembly. And you That are the precious paragons of the City, Who scorne these harmelesse sports: can have your meetings At Islington, and Green Goose faire, and si A zealous glasse of Wine till the parch'd floore Be moistned with your virgin dew, then prattle How that you dream last night that Iohn the Mercer, Or Tom the Drapers man at London-stone Was in your bed, and what sweet work he made there. Very right, and kis'd you oftner Then ere the good man did his Cow, and hug'd you As the Divell hug'd the Witch, that's right now▪ When you'r married (For that you will be, or else run away With Costermongers, Mountebankes, or Taylors) Your husbands are more subject to you then Their bondmen are, whom by profuse expense You breake beyond redemption from the Indies▪ the Straights, or Barbary, see them lodged in Ludgate, And then turne pricking semsters, till that trade Fayling, you take your selves (as to the last refuge) To the old occupation; till the Marshall Carry you to Bridewell, of which you'r free, Even by your fathers charters that have beene Sometimes the masters of it, there Ile leave you, So farewell wildcats. Very right as I am a gentleman. I like his Clar, Or none shall be my husband. helpe me to laugh good wenches, I haue tal'd Thy Unkle Clare into so free an humour, That hees resolv'd straight to take forth the licence, And marry us ith' morning. What od fellow's this? Know you him Cosen Grace. Prethee good wit noe more, we've overcome All forraigne enemies, and tis unfit To war among our selves. This is the pedant My father brought to mocke us, good thine stuffe, Get thee home to thy parish, And instruct Thy people wholesome Doctrine, for us, We have no zeale to learne. Life they'l perswade me out of my selfe, Clare, Grace, know you not me, not Thorowgood. Thorowgood, pray put your trickes on some body, More easie to be wrought on, Thorowgood, Ha, ha, ha. What should these wenches meane, the ive and sheares Cannot resolve this mystery; they know me Better then I can know my selfe: 'twas she Advis'd me to this habit to deceive Her uncles prying eyes, and why then Should they abuse me thus? the rest were made But fooles in Quarto, but I finde my selfe An asse in Folio: Ile away, and if I quit them not with an abuse as fine, Ile say there is no quickning spirit in wine.