The Constant Maid (Love Will Find Out the Way) · chunk 2 of 32
Shirley, James · published 1640 · first performed or written 1638 [1630(?)-1640] (Annals) not in BritDrama unassigned nearest T45 Widows, wooing and remarriage · 503 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T45: widow, widows, hoord, master, gentlemen, wife, randalls, wit, mistress, married.
His house, Sir, has a superscription, And is directed to his loving friend Will pay the rent, you'll hardly know me now, I have no fellow. You are very merry, Sir. He has some cause, we are discharged. For certain, my master only Belongs to me, if you would speak with him, He's gone to Mistress Bellamy's, Sir; In the mean time, please you to understand, I Close follow my master, and shall feed still, Although my fellows here are become blanks, And do want filling. Lads, I have known you long: Although you be at loss, in confidence Of all your future honesties, I'll employ ye In a device, which if it hit, may Reward your pains. All? Your Master only, Sir, belongs to you, Follow him still, and if there be occasion, I shall inquire for you; you will be faithful. Doubt not, M. Playfair. I have a project, Follow me for instructions; farewell Close, Commend me to your master. Buoy Close, buoy honest Close, we are blanks, blanks. Roll up yourselves in paper-liveries, and Be drawn at the next Lottery; I won't Forsake my certainty for all your projects, If it should fail I shall find some of you Sneaking in Paul's behind a pillar, with A zealous prayer, some Gentleman would read The beadroll of your commendation, And pity a very serviceable fellow, That would fain wait on him, but wants a cloak: Go, prosper with your project. Widow, be ruled by me, I know the world, And I have studied it these fifty years: There's no man to be trusted. Without good. Security, you mean. No young man, widow, That talks, and says he loves you, writes you verses, And swears he shall go hang himself, unless You pity him; take me an old man. So, take you an old man. Seasoned with care and thrift, not led away By vicious conversation, nor corrupted With pride and surfeit, one that knows the use Of money; Do ye mark the use? Yes, Sir: Use upon use, you mean. And dares not spend it prodigally, knowing The principal end it was ordained to, was To relieve our necessity, and lay up What is above. To help the poor. You may, If you be so disposed, but 'tis as commendable To give it in your will, to build an Hospital, And so our charity comes altogether: I would not have your state be eaten up By Caterpillars, but preserved and made Greater, by marrying some discreet old man. And such an one you show yourself. You happily Interpret me. I would not tell you, Sir, Till our next meeting, how much you have won, By your good counsel, on me. She inclines. 'Tis your good nature, I am plain, and have No tricks, I'll tell you all my fault, I am Addicted very much to gather wealth; I have no children to devour my state, Nor kindred, only a Niece left to my trust, One that is never like to marry.
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)
His house, Sir, has a superscription, And is directed to his loving friend Will pay the rent, you'l hardly know me now, I have no fellow. You are verie merrie, Sir. He has some cause, we are discharg'd. For certaine, my master only Belongs to me, if you would speake with him, He's gone to Mistresse Bellamies, Sir; In the meane time, please you to understand, I Close follow my master, and shall feed still, Although my fellowes here are become blanks, And do want filling. Lads, I have knowne you long: Although you be at losse, in confidence Of all your future honesties, I'll employ yee In a device, which if it hit, may Reward your paines. All? Your Master only, Sir, belongs to you, Follow him still, and if there be occasion, I shall enquire for you; you will be faithfull. Doubt not, M. Playfaire. I have a project, Follow me for instructions; farewell Close, Commend me to your master. Buoy Close, buoy honest Close, we are blanks, blanks. Roule up your selves in paper-liveries, and Be drawne at the next Lotterie; I wo'not Forsake my certaintie for all your projects, If it should faile I shall find some of you Sneaking in Pauls behind a pillar, with A zealous prayer, some Gentleman would read The bed-roll of your commendation, And pitie a verie serviceable fellow, That would faine wait on him, but wants a cloake: Go, prosper with your project. Widdow, be rul'd by me, I know the world, And I have studied it these fiftie yeares: There's no man to be trusted. Without good. Securitie, you meane. No young man, widdow, That talks, and sayes he loves you, writes you verses, And sweares he shall goe hang himselfe, unlesse You pitie him; take me an old man. So, take you an old man. Season'd with care and thrift, not led away By vicious conversation, nor corrupted With pride and surfet, one that knowes the use Of money; Do yee mark the use? Yes, Sir: Use upon use, you meane. And dares not spend it prodigally, knowing The principall end it was ordain'd to, was To releeve our necessitie, and lay up What is above. To help the poore. You may, If you be so dispos'd, but 'tis as commendable To give it in your will, to build an Hospitall, And so our charitie comes altogether: I would not have your state be eaten up By Catterpillers, but preserv'd and made Greater, by marrying some discreet old man. And such an one you shew your selfe. You happily Interpret me. I would not tell you, Sir, Till our next meeting, how much you have won, By your good counsell, on me. She inclines. 'Tis your good nature, I am plaine, and have No tricks, I'll tell you all my fault, I am Addicted verie much to gather wealth; I have no children to devoure my state, Nor kinred, only a Neece left to my trust, One that is never like to marrie.