The Constant Maid (Love Will Find Out the Way) · chunk 29 of 32
Shirley, James · published 1640 · first performed or written 1638 [1630(?)-1640] (Annals) not in BritDrama unassigned nearest T27 Uncles, nephews and cousins: kinship and · 532 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T27: uncle, niece, nephew, gentlemen, faith, cousin, wife, house, gentleman, money.
For you shall give it freely and get by't; For you must understand if I do this, I shall betray a friend of mine, that has Put me in trust, one that intends to marry her, (For truth to tell, they are not yet contracted) To marry her, d''ee mark? and yet ere morning Three thousand pounds upon her, Is't not so much? One that has lent me sums too without parchment. Or foolish circumstance, to be repaid; Which you were never yet so much a Christian, As to be guilt of, in your usurer's gallon Of conscience melting Sack; This deserves something, But cause some expedition is required; You have a Bond of mine. For fifty pound. I had but forty, and your scrivener paid, With whom, perhaps, your worship too divided; If you remember, there were precious dinners, Ere I could count my Chickens altogether, Which was your thrift and my expense; You shall First cancel that Bond, nay this won't dot, And give, d''ee mark, give me a hundred pieces, Perhaps I'll drink your health: This shall retrieve Your Niece, and give her into your hands, Though for my treachery, I be sung in ballads, And have the town curse if ever I marry. 'Tis too much for no more labour, sir. If I consider, Three hundred will not bring me to't again; Thus fair I'll deal with you; I'll not touch your money Till I ha' done't, but then I will be sure: Fetch, fetch the business. The Bond is ready. I will have ready money too: You have Bags of all sizes and denominations. ay, these things promise well; now I'll attend you. Do this fear for me, and 'tis all thine own. Now we may wish you say, the Priest has tied That knot no subtlety nor malice can Dissolve; And repent not I have been An actor in your Comedy, though I should not Be tempted easily to such another Engagement; For your sake I have dispensed with My person and my place. You always were My loving Uncle. Sir, you have, in this, Deserved our lives and fortunes. It was good mirth To hear him confident all our device Was but a dream. He is awake by this time; Should your Cousen fail, we'll have another way To invite him; And if honesty prevail not, Force him till he consent. Some offenders are brought to be examined. Nephew, withdraw, and you, fair Bride; These troubles Are incident to my place, I'll soon dispatch 'em. How now my Masters? Mr. Hartwell? ha! Look on me; Sir, as a delinquent; These Are able to accuse me. What offence? Nothing, but for killing of a man. What proof? He has confessed it, Sir. Mistress Bellamy, You are come in a sad time: Here's Mr. Hartwell Accused for killing. 'Tis not possible. Good sir believe it not. He does confess. I am not worth your prey, gentle lady In vain I should extenuate my fact, To have the troubles of examinations; Here I confess again, my hand is guilty Of killing him whose feeble arm durst not Lift up a weapon to defend himself. That was not manly.
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: T10 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
For you shall give it freely and get by't; For you must understand if I do this, I shall betray a friend of mine, that has Put me in trust, one that intends to marry her, (For truth to tell, they are not yet contracted) To marry her, d'ee marke? and yet e're morning Three thousand pounds upon her, Is't not so much? One that has lent me sums too without parchmon. Or foolish circumstance, to be repaid; Which you were never yet so much a Christian, As to be guilt of, in your Usurers gallon Of conscience melting Sacke; This deserves something, But cause some expedition is required; You have a Bond of mine. For fifty pound. I had but forty, and your Scrivenor paid, With whom, perhaps, your worship too divided; If you remember, there were precious dinners, Ere I could count my Chickens altogether, Which was your thrift and my expence; You shall First cancell that Bond, nay this wo'not dot, And give, d'ee marke, give me a hundred pieces, Perhaps I'll drinke your health: This shall retrive Your Neece, and give her into your hands, Though for my treachery, I be sung in ballads, And have the towne curse if ever I marry. 'Tis too much for no more labour, sir. If I consider, Three hundred will not bring me to' agen; Thus faire I'll deale with you; I'le not touch your money Till I ha' don't, but then I will be sure: Fetch, fetch the businesse. The Bond is ready. I will have ready money too: You have Bgs of all sizes and denominations. I, these things promise well; now I'll attend you. Do this fear for me, and 'tis all thine owne. Now we may wish you say, the Prst has tyed That no subtity nor malice can Dissolve; And repent not I have been An actor in your Comedy, though I should not Be tempted easily to such another Engagement; For your sake I have dispenc'd with My person and my place. You alwayes were My loving Uncle. Sir, you have, in this, Deserv'd our lives and fortunes. It was good mirth To heare him confident all our device Was but a dreame. He is awake by this time; Should your Cousen faile, we'll have another way To invite him; And if honesty prevaile not, Force him till he consent. Some offenders are brought to be examin'd. Nephew, withdraw, and you, faire Bride; These troubles Are incident to my place, I'll soon dispatch 'em. How now my Masters? Mr. Hartwell? ha! Looke on me; Sir, as a delinquent; These Are able to accuse me. What offence? Nothing, but for killing of a man. What proofe? He has confest it, Sir. Mistris Bellamy, You are come in a sad time: Here's Mr. Hartwell Accus'd for killing. 'Tis not possible. Good sir believe it not. He does confesse. I am not worth your prey, gentle lady In vaine I should enuate my fact, To have the troubles of examinations; Here I confesse agen, my hand is guilty Of killing him whose feeble arme durst not Lift up a weapon to defend himselfe. That was not manly.