The Constant Maid (Love Will Find Out the Way) · chunk 6 of 32
Shirley, James · published 1640 · first performed or written 1638 [1630(?)-1640] (Annals) not in BritDrama T33 Fathers, daughters and marriage negotiat typicality 0.86 · 474 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T33: daughter, marriage, father, love, davus, matter, son, chremes, wife, mother.
And must again repeat, you cannot call Her Bride. Can you forbid this happiness, And love me? Yes, so dearly, Hartwell, I Present myself to thy affection. You fright my understanding. Does the name Of widow sound displeasing, I have learned Already to obey; my years are not So many, with the thought, to freeze your blood, I wear no print of time deep in my brow: Have my hairs the innocence of age, To speak me twice a child? Gentlemen active, And of great birth, have courted my affection, And if they flatter not, commend my person. Add unto this my wealth, no narrow fortune, And without competition, my daughter, Depending on my love, whose portion must Flow from my bounty, or be nothing; make A sober apprehension of this tender, And think I was not able to suppress My silent flame, increased still by your virtues: This minute give all hopes up for my daughter, I can admit no Rival; 'tis within Your election to be happy, Sir: My love accepted comes with fair attendance, Denied, you hasten your own exile, think on't, I will expect your answer. I am destroyed: Was it her mother that spoke all this while? As pilgrims, by mistake of some small path, Having told many weary steps, at night, When their hopes flatter 'em, they are not far From some kind entertainment, find themselves Lost in a wilderness; so am I miserable: Thus love delights to wound, and see us bleed, He were a gentle god to kill indeed. A word of thy mouth does it, I am weary Of these indentures, like a fool, I was In hope he should have married Mistress Frances. A beggar, she his wife; no, Master Startup, Whom I preferred, must carry her, he's a man Of lands and money; I must tell you by The way, he is little better than a fool. The fitter for her husband, and my master. You're in the right, he's innocent to your hands, You may soon come to manage his estate. Which if I do, thou shalt have all. All what? Why all that I can beg, borrow, or steal From him; what should he do with so much riches? I'll prompt my mistress, after the first year, To put him to his pension; he should pay For's very diet, and after a month or two, For every time he comes all oft. Nay, I would wish her to begin betimes, If she do mean to rule the roost, I can Give her some documents; and be you sure To stick close to your Mistress, there is something To be got that way. My most exquisite Varges, How I do love thy documents; but he's here, I'll not be seen with thee, farewell, we'll talk The rest at night over a Sack-posset.
seed 43: T6 · seed 44: T7 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
And must agen repeat, you cannot call Her Bride. Can you forbid this happinesse, And love me? Yes, so deerly, Hartwell, I Present my selfe to thy affection. You fright my understanding. Does the name Of widdow sound displeasing, I have learn'd Already to obey; my yeares are not So many, with the thought, to freeze your bloud, I weare no print of time deep in my brow: Have my haires the innocence of age, To speake me twice a child? Gentlemen active, And of great birth, have courted my affection And if they flatter not, commend my person. Adde unto this my wealth, no narrow fortune, And without competition, my daughter, Depending on my love, whose portion must Flow from my bountie, or be nothing; make A sober apprehension of this tender, And think I was not able to suppresse My silent flame, increast still by your vertues: This minute give all hopes up for my daughter, I can admit no Rivall; 'tis within Your election to be happie, Sir: My love accepted comes with faire attendance, Deny'd, you hasten your owne exile, think on't, I will expect your answer. I am destroy'd: Was it her mother that spake all this while? As pilgrims, by mistake of some small path, Having told many wearie steps, at night, When their hopes flatter em, they are not far From some kind entertainment, find themselves Lost in a wildernesse; so am I miserable: Thus love delights to wound, and see us bleed, He were a gentle god to kill indeed. A word of thy mouth does it, I am wearie Of these indentures, like a foole, I was In hope he should have married Mistresse Frances. A beggar, she his wife; no, Master Startup, Whom I preferr'd, must carrie her, he's a man Of lands and money; I must tell you by The way, he is little better than a foole. The fitter for her husband, and my master. Y'are in the right, he's innocent to your hands, You may soone come to manage his estate. Which if I do, thou shalt have all. All what? Why all that I can beg, borrow, or steale From him; what should he do with so much riches? I'll prompt my mistresse, after the first yeare, To put him to his pension; he should pay For's verie diet, and after a moneth or two, For everie time he comes al oft. Nay, I would wish her to begin betimes, If she doe meane to rule the rost, I can Give her some documents; and be you sure To stick close to your Mistresse, there is something To be got that way. My most exquisite Varges, How I doe love thy documents; but he's here, I'll not be seene with thee, farewell, we'll talk The rest at night over a Sack-posset.