The Constant Maid (Love Will Find Out the Way) · chunk 22 of 32
Shirley, James · published 1640 · first performed or written 1638 [1630(?)-1640] (Annals) not in BritDrama unassigned nearest T41 Household service: masters, doors and po · 501 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T41: master, house, door, iohn, old, mistress, basket, lord, gentleman, ick.
What's the matter? Mr. Startup is not a-bed, and here is all is left Of Mr. Hartwell. This is very strange. I dare not tell her of his shift, they're gone, The doors I found left open, and no sign Which way they are bestowed. This puzzles me: Pray Heaven there be no mischief in this absence: Is Frank a-bed? Yes. What should move'em To leave my house so late, and Mr. Hartwell Without his clothes? Some knock there: Beshrew me but I trembled. 'Tis a stranger, And says he would speak with you. At this late hour? What accidents are these? from whence? I know not. Has he no name? what should this mean? He says he is a Countryman of Mr. Startups. Admit him, he perhaps does bring some news. By your leave Mistress, pardon my importunity At so unfit an hour. You're welcome, sir. I met with fortunate directions, Though I came late; I understand you have A guest, one Startup of Northamptonshire, That comes a-wooing to your daughter. Such an one there was that supped with us, and went To bed; but since, as I have faith, I know not Which way he has conveyed himself; another Gentleman too is missing, and his Rival. Pray do not mock me, Lady, I ha' rid A great way, and the business much concerns him. You may believe me, he is no such treasure I should conceal him. Then I see you dally: Know, Mistress, you may slack your preparations, Your daughter must look out another husband, He is contracted. How? And something more, Gotten with child one, that without blushing I cannot call my daughter; he shall make Her credit straight again, although my fortunes Have no equality with his, I shall Find Law to force him. You preferred this suitor, This news returns my blood. Sir, you shall find All truth I have delivered, I am not sorry, To hear this news, this is no time to seek him: Please you accept the lodging that was his, My servant shall attend you in the morning, To help your search. You seem a noble Gentlewoman, I take your courtesy. Nurse, a light; pray walk, sir. I was unkind to Hartwell, he not wise; But love still apprehends too much, or nothing. Frances, a word: do not you know what is Become o' these Gentlemen. Not I, their absence Is strange to me. Oh, Frank, I am undone. Good Heaven, forbid. This Gentleman, Mr. Hartwell, Whom we shall never see again, I fear. How, mother? are you acquainted With any cause to fear thus. 'Tis in vain To tell thee how I loved him. Bless my senses! you love him? 'Bove all the world, affectionately placed him Too near my heart. I heard you made pretence Of Love, to try him for my sake; and pardon me, If yet I dare not believe more. Oh Frank— My heart doth thrill, I feel a coldness run Through all my veins already.
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)
What's the matter? Mr. Startup is not a bed, and here is all is left Of Mr. Hartwell. This is verie strange. I dare not tell her of his shift, they're gone, The doores I found left open, and no signe Which way they are bestowed. This puzzles me: Pray Heaven there be no mischiefe in this absence: Is Franck abed? Yes. What should move'em To leave my house so late, and Mr. Hartwell Without his clothes? Some knock there: Beshrew me but I trembled. 'Tis a stranger, And sayes he would speake with you. At this late houre? What accidents are these? from whence? I know not. Has he no name? what should this meane? He sayes he is a Countrey-man of Mr. Startups. Admit him, he perhaps does bring some newes. By your leave Mistresse, pardon my importunitie At so unfit an houre. Y'are welcome, sir. I met with fortunate directions, Though I came late; I understand you have A guest, one Startup of Northampton-shire, That comes a wooing to your daughter. Such an one there was that supt with us, and went To bed; but since, as I have faith, I know not Which way he has convey'd himselfe; another Gentleman too is missing, and his Rivall. Pray do not mock me, Lady, I ha rid A great way, and the businesse much concernes him. You may beleeve me, he is no such treasure I should conceale him. Then I see you dally: Know, Mistresse, you may slack your preparations, Your daughter must look out another husband, He is contracted. How? And something more, Gotten with child one, that without blushing I cannot call my daughter; he shall make Her credit straight agen, although my fortunes Have no equalitie with his, I shall Find Law to force him. You preferr'd this sutor, This newes returnes my bloud. Sir, you shall find All truth I have deliver'd, I am not sorrie, To heare this newes, this is no time to seek him: Please you accept the lodging that was his, My servant shall attend you in the morning, To help your search. You seeme a noble Gentlewoman, I take your courtesie. Nurse, a light; pray walk, sir. I was unkind to Hartwell, he not wise; But love still apprehends too much, or nothing. Frances, a word: do not you know what is Become o' these Gentlemen. Not I, their absence Is strange to me. Oh, Franck, I am undone. Good Heaven, forbid. This Gentleman, Mr. Hartwell, Whom we shall never see agen, I feare. How, mother? are you acquainted With any cause to feare thus. 'Tis in vaine To tell thee how I loved him. Blesse my senses! you love him? 'Bove all the world, affectionately plac'd him Too neere my heart. I heard you made pretence Of Love, to trie him for my sake; and pardon me, If yet I dare not beleeve more. Oh Franck— My heart doth thrill, I feele a coldnesse run Through all my veines already.