1 The Two Angry Women of Abingdon · chunk 21 of 51
Porter, Henry · published 1599 · first performed or written 1598(?) (Annals) comedy · Admiral's (Nottingham's) Men unassigned nearest T23 Husbands, wives and jealousy · 497 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T23: wife, husband, cuckold, jealousy, woman, jealous, mistress, love, house, honest.
Return the messenger of joy my son. Seldom in this world, such a work is done. Nay, nay, make haste, it will be quickly night. Why is it not good to woo by candle light. But if we make not haste they'll be a-bed. The better candles out, and curtains spread I know, though that my sons years be not many. Yet he hath wit to woo as well as any, Here comes my wife, I am glad my boy is gone. Ere she came hither, how now wife, how be't? What are ye yet in charity and love with mistress Barns? What mistress Barns, why mistress Barnes I pray Because she is your neighbour and And what? And a jealous slandering spiteful quean she is, One that would blur my reputation, With her approbrious malice if she could, She wrongs her husband, to abuse my fame, 'tis known that I have lived in honest name, All my life time, and been your right true wife, I entertain no other thought my wife, And my opinion's sound of your behaviour. And my behaviour is as sound as it, But her ill speeches seeks to rot my credit, And eat it with the worm of hate and malice. Why then preserve it you by patience. By patience, would ye have me shame myself, And cozen myself to bear her injuries: Not while her eyes be open will I yield, A word, a letter, a syllables value, But equal and make even her wrongs to me, To her again. Then in good faith wife ye are more to blame. Am I too blame sir pray what letters this. There is a dearth of manners in ye wife, Rudely to snatch it from me, give it me? You shall not have it, till I have read it. Give me it then, and I will read it to you? No, no, it shall not need, I am a scholar Good enough to read a letter sir, God's passion, if she knew but the contents, she'll seek to cross this match, she shall not read it. Wife, give it me, come, come, give it me. Husband, in very deed you shall not have it. What will you move me to impatience then? Tut, tell not me of your impatience, But since you talk sir of impatience, You shall not have the letter by this light, Till I have read it, soul i'll burn it first. Go to, ye move me wife, give me the letter, Introth I shall grow angry, if you do not. Grow to the house top with your anger sir. near tell me, I care not thus much for it. Well, I can bear enough, but not too much, Come give it me, 'twere best you be persuaded, By God ye make me swear, now God forgive me, Give me I say, and stand not long upon it, Go to, I am angry at the heart, my very heart,
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: T28 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Returne the messenger of ioy my sonne. Sildome in this world, such a worke is done. Nay, nay, make hast, it will be quicklie night. Why is it not good to wooe by candle light. But if we make not haste theile be a bed. The better candles out, and curtans spred I know, though that my sons years be not many. Yet he hath wit to wooe as well as any, Heere comes my wife, I am glad my boy is gone. Ereshe came hether, how now wife, how ist? What are ye yet in charity and loue with mistresse Barnes? What mistris Barnes, why mistris Barnes I pray Because she is your neighbour and And what? And a iealous slandering spitefull queane she is, One that would blur my reputation, With her approbrious mallice if she could, She wrongs her husband, to abuse my fame, Tis knowne that I haue liude in honest name, All my life time, and bin your right true wife, I entertaine no other thought my wife, And my opinion's sound of your behauiour. And my behauiour is as sound as it, But her ill speeches seekes to rot my credit, And eate it with the worme of hate and mallice. Why then preserue it you by patience. By patience, would ye haue me shame my selfe, And cussen my selfe to beare her iniuries: Not while her eyes be open will I yeelde, A word, a letter, a sillables valew, But equall and make euen her wrongs to me, To her againe. Then in good faith wife ye are more to blame. Am I too blame sir pray what letters this. There is a dearth of manners in ye wife, Rudelie to snatch it from me, giue it me? You shall not haue it, till I haue read it. Giue me it then, and I will read it to you? No, no, it shall not need, I am a scholler Good enough to read a letter sir, Gods passion, if she knew but the contents, Sheele seeke to crosse this match, she shall not read it. Wife, giue it me, come, come, giue it me. Husband, in very deed you shall not haue it. What will you mooue me to impatience then? Tut, tell not me of your impatience, But since you talke sir of impatience, You shall not haue the letter by this light, Till I haue read it, soule ile burne it first. Go to, ye moue me wife, giue me the letter, Introth I shall growe angry, if you doe not. Grow to the house top with your anger sir. Nere tell me, I care not thus much for it. Well, I can beare enough, but not too much, Come giue it me, twere best you be perswaded, By God ye make me sweare, now God forgiue me, Giue me I say, and stand not long vpon it, Go to, I am angry at the heart, my very heart,