Porter, Henry · published 1599 · first performed or written 1598(?) (Annals) comedy · Admiral's (Nottingham's) Men unassigned nearest T23 Husbands, wives and jealousy · 453 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T23: wife, husband, cuckold, jealousy, woman, jealous, mistress, love, house, honest.
Is she so cunning grown, come, come, let's see. Yea mistress Barnes, will ye not house your jests, But let them roam abroad so carelessly? Faith, if your jealous tongue utter another, I'll cross ye with a jest, and ye were my mother, Come shall we play? ay, what shall we play a game? A pound a game. How wife? Faith husband not a farthing less. It is too much, a shilling were good game. No, we'll be ill housewives once, You have oft been ill husbands, let's alone. Wife, will you play so much? I would be loath to be so frank a gamester As mistress Goursey is, and yet for once, I'll play a pound a game as well as she. Go to, you'll have your will. Come, there's my stake. And there's mine. Throw for the Dice: Ill luck they are yours. Master Goursey, who says that game's bad, When such good Angels walk twixt every cast? This is not noble sport, but royal play. It must be so where royals walk so fast. Play right I pray. Why so I do. Where stands your man? In his right place. Good faith, I think ye play me foul an Ace, No wife, she plays ye true. Peace husband, peace, i'll not be judged by you. Husband master Barnes, pray both go walk. We cannot play, if standers by do talk. Well to your game, we will not trouble ye. Where stands your man now? Doth he not stand right? It stands between the points. And that's my spite. But yet methinks the dice runs much uneven, That I throw but dews ase and you eleven. And yet you see that I cast down the hill, ay, I beshrew ye, 'tis not with my will. Do ye beshrew me? No, I beshrew the dice. That turn you up more at once, then me at twice. Well, you shall see them turn for you anon. But I care not for them when your game is done, My game, what game? Your game, your game at tables. Well mistress, well, I have read Aesop's sables, And know your morals meaning well enough. Lo you'll be angry, now here's good stuff, How now woman, who hath won the game? nobody yet. Your wife's the fairest far't. I in your eye. How do you mean? He holds you fairer for't than I. For what forsooth? Good gamester, for your game. Well, try it out, 'tis all but in the hearing. Nay if it come to bearing, she'll be best. Why, you're as good a bearer as the rest. Nay that's not so, you bear one man too many. Better do so then bear not any.
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)
Is she so cunning growne, come, come, lets see. Yea mistris Barnes, will ye not house your iests, But let them rome abroad so carelesly? Faith, if your iealious tongue vtter another, Ile crosse ye with a iest, and ye were my mother, Come shall we play? I, what shall we play a game? A pound a game. How wife? Faith husband not a farthing lesse. It is too much, a shilling were good game. No, weell be ill huswiues once, You haue oft been ill husbands, lets alone. Wife, will you play so much? I would be loath to be so franke a gaister As mistresse Goursey is, and yet for once, Ile play a pound a game aswell as she. Go to, youle haue your will. Come, ther's my stake. And ther's mine. Throw for the Dice: Ill luck they are yours. Master Goursey, who sayes that gamings bad, When such good Angels walke twixt euery cast? This is not noble sport, but royall play. It must be so where royals walke so fast. Play right I pray. Why so I doe. Where stands your man? In his right plce. Good faith, I thinke ye play me foule an Ace, No wife, she playes ye true. Peace husband, peace, ile not be iudged by you. Husband master Barnes, pray both goe walke. We cannot play, if standers by doe talke. Well to your game, we will not trouble ye. Where stands your man now? Doth he not stand right? It stands btweene the pointes. And thats my spight. But yet me thinkes the dice runnes much vneuen, That I throw but dewes ase and you eleuen. And et you see that I cast downe the hill, I, I beshrew ye, tis not with my will. Do ye beshrew me? No, I beshrew the dice. That turne you vp more at once, then me at twise. Well, you shall see them turne for you anon. But I care not for them when your game is done, My game, what game? Your game, your game attables. Well mistresse, well, I haue red Aesops sables, And know your morrals meaning well enough. Loe you'l be angry, now heeres good stuffe, How now woman, who hath wonne the game? No body yet. Your wife's the fairest far't. I in your eye. How do you meane? He holds you fairer for't then I. For what forsooth? Good gamster, for your game. Well, try it out, t'is all but in the hearing. Nay if it come to bearing, shee'l be best. Why, you'r as good a bearer as the rest. Nay thats not so, you beare one man too many. Better doe so then beare not any.