Chapman, George · published 1605 · first performed or written 1601 (Annals) comedy · Children of the Queen's Revels · before the Court unassigned nearest T23 Husbands, wives and jealousy · 517 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T23: wife, husband, cuckold, jealousy, woman, jealous, mistress, love, house, honest.
Well sir to turn our heads to salve your licence, Since you have used the matter so unwisely, That now your father has discerned your humour, In your too careless usage in his house, Your wife must come from his house to Antonio's, And he, to entertain her must be told She is not wife to his son, but to you: Which news will make his simple wit triumph Over your father; and your father thinking He still is gulled, will still account him simple: Come sir, prepare your villainous wit to feign A kind submission to your father's fury, And we shall see what hearty policy, He will discover, in his feigned Anger, To blind Antonio's eyes, and make him think, He thinks her heartily to be your wife. O I will gull him rarely with my wench, Low kneeling at my heels before his fury, And injury shallbe salved with injury. You see how too much wisdom evermore, Outshoots the truth: you were so forwards still, To tax my ignorance, my green experience In these grey hairs, for giving such advantage, To my sons spirit, that he durst undertake A secret match, so far short of his worth: Your son so seasoned with obedience, Even from his youth, that all his actions relish Nothing but duty, and your anger's fear, What shall I say to you, if it fall out That this most precious son of yours, has played A part as bad as this, and as rebellious: Nay more has grossly gulled your wit withal. What if my son has undergone the blame That appertained to yours? and that this wench With which my son is charged, may call you father: Shall I then say you want experience? You're green, you're credulous; easy to be blinded. Ha, ha, ha, good Marc-Antonio, When't comes to that; laugh at me, call me fool, proclaim so, Let all the world take knowledge I am an Ass. O the good God of Gods, How blind is Pride? what Eagles we are still, In matters that belong to other men? What Beetles in our own? I tell you Knight, It is confessed to be as I have told you; And Gratiana, is by young Rinaldo, And your white son, brought to me as his wife: How think you now Sir? even just as before, And have more cause to think honest Credulity, Is a true Loadstone to draw on Decrepity: You have a heart to open to embrace, All that your ear receives: alas good man, All this is but a plot for entertainment Within your house, for your poor sons young wife My house without huge danger cannot hold: Is't possible, what danger Sir I pray? I 'll tell you Sir, 'twas time to take her thence: My son that last day you saw could not frame, His looks to entertain her, now by’r lady Is groan a Courtier: for myself unseen, Saw when he courted her, embraced and kissed her, And I can tell you left not much undone, That was the proper office of your son.
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)
Well sir to turne our heads to salue your licence, Since you haue vsd the matter so vnwisely, That now your father has discern'd your humor, In your too carelesse vsage in his house, Your wife must come from his house to Antonio, And he, to entertaine her must be tould She is not wife to his sonne, but to you: Which newes will make his simple wit triumphe Ouer your father; and your father thinking He still is guld, will still account him simple: Come sir, prepare your villanous witt to faine A kinde submission to your fathers fury, And we shall see what harty policie, He will discouer, in his fained Anger, To blinde Antonios eyes, and make him thinke, He thinkes her hartely to be your wife. O I will gull him rarely with my wench, Lowe kneeling at my heeles before his furie, And iniury shalbe salu'd with iniurie. You see how too much wisdome , Out-shootes the truth: you were so forwards still, To taxe my ignorance, my greene experience In these gray haires, for giuing such adntage, To my sonnes spirit, that he durst vndertake A secret match, so farre short of his woorth: Your sonne so seasoned with obedience, Euen from his youth, that all his actions relish Nothing but dutie, and your angers feare, What shall I say to you, if it fall out That this most precious sonne of yours, has plaide A part as bad as this, and as rebellious: Nay more has grosely guld your witt withall. What if my sonne has vndergone the blame That appertain'd to yours? and that this wench With which my sonne is charg'd, may call you father: Shall I then say you want experience? Y'ar greene, y'ar credulous; easie to be blinded. Ha, ha, ha, good Marc-Antonio, When't comes to that; laugh at me, call me foole, proclai me so, Let all the world take knowledge I am an Asse. O the good God of Gods, How blinde is Pride? what Eagles we are still, In matters that belong to other men? What Beetles in our owne? I tell you Knight, It is consest to be as I haue tould you; And Gratiana, is by young Rinaldo, And your white sonne, brought to me as his wife: How thinke you now Sir? Euen iust as before, And haue more cause to thinke honest Credulity, Is a true Loadstone to draw on Decrepity: You haue a hart to open to imbrace, All that your eare receiues: alas good man, All this is but a plot for entertainment Within your house, for your poore sonnes yong wife My house without huge danger cannot holde: Ist possible, what danger Sir I pray? tell you Sir, twas time to take her thence: My sonne that last day you saw could not frame, His lookes to entertaine her, now bir-lady Is grone a Courtier: for my selfe vnseene, Saw when he courted her, imbrac't and kist her, And I can tell you left not much vndone, That was the proper office of your sonne.