Day, John · published 1633 · first performed or written 1606 (Annals) comedy · Children of the Queen's Revels · Blackfriars unassigned nearest T23 Husbands, wives and jealousy · 496 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T23: wife, husband, cuckold, jealousy, woman, jealous, mistress, love, house, honest.
That's past my cunning, the old Fox has more holes than one to hide's head in: But not to go long about the bush with you. No good Dorus, I do not love a man should go long about my Bush: what is she for a woman? I know not what she is for a woman, marry I fear she's little better than a whore for your husband; hark in your ear, she's Manasses wife. Manasses wife? marry fire master gunner, a Puritan turned Punk: Gods my precious. I'll slit her nose, as I am a Lady will I; is she the party you wot on? Yes faith Madam, she is the Mare the man rid on. I'll spoil their sport, saddle my Mule there, have an eye to the Princess; shaltha my daughter, an't be but to spite him withal, faith Fox I'll ha' you out of your hole, or I'll fire you out. Nay that will do no good, but for your own good Madam, take heed you do not scold. Why, may not a Lady scold Dorus? Scold? O in no case, 'twill mar a Lady's beauty clean, and make her look as hard-favoured as any ordinary woman. Godamercy for that Dorus, I'll not lose my beauty for twenty on 'em: saddle my Mule, bring me my chopping-knife, I'll geld the lecherous Goat, and mince his Trull as small as herbs to the pot. This is not scolding Dorus, is't? No this is tolerable. Nay then I care not, saddle my Mule I say, let her pray God her feeling be good, for as I am a Lady, I'll not leave her an eye to see withal, and yet I will not scold neither. Oh take heed of that at any hand. So, so, so; now it begins to quicken, me thinks I see already how she runs a-tilt at the wench's eyes, calls the Maid Bawd, the woman whore, and her husband Lecher; and when all comes to all, like an Irish wolf, she barks at her own shadow; but committing her and her Ass to their wild-goose chase, now to my sweetheart Mopsa, for she's all the blocke's last in my eye to stumble on; and God bless my wits, for the fool haunts me. Dorus, where's my Father Dorus? Your father? O my dear Mopsa. Nay now you flout me. Flout you? Oh the fair heavens! but this 'tis for a man to cast away himself in violence of passion, and extremity of sighs, on a piece of beauty that cares not for him, but it is the tricks of you all. Tricks? no as God mend me; and I should not have a husband till I got him with tricks, I should lead Apes in hell: but faith tell me, dost thou love me Dorus? Do I love you quoth ye? It cuts my very heartstrings, do I love you? why 'tis the only mark my endeavours shoot at.
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)
That's paſt my cunning, the old Foxe has more holes then one to hide's head in: But not to goe long about the buſh with you. No good Dorus, I doe not love a man ſhould goe long about my Buſh: what is ſhe for a woman? I know not what ſhe is for a womn, marry I feare ſhee's little better then a whore for your husband; hearke in your eare, ſhee's Manaſſes wife. Manaſſes wife? marry fire maſter gunner, a Puritan turnd Punke: Gods my precious. Ile ſlit her noſe, as I am a Lady will I; is ſhe the party you wot on? Yes faith Madam, ſhee is the Mare the man rid on. Ile ſpoyle their ſport, ſaddle my Mule there, have an eye to the Princeſſe; ſhaltha my daughter, an't be but to ſpite him withal, faith Fox Ile ha you out of your hole, or Ile fire you out. Nay that will doe no good, but for your owne good Madam, take heed you doe not ſcold. Why, may not a Lady ſcold Dorus? Scold? O in no caſe, twill marre a Ladies beauty cleane, and make her looke as hard-favoured as any ordinarie woman. Godamercy for that Dorus, Ile not loſe my beauty for twenty on em: ſaddle my Mule, bring mee my chopping-knife, Ile geld the lecherous Goat, and mince his Trull as ſmall as herbs to the pot. This is not ſcolding Dorus, is't? No this is tollerable. Nay then I care not, ſaddle my Mule I ſay, let her pray God her feeling be good, for as I am a Lady, Ile not leave her an eye to ſee withall, and yet I will not ſcold neither. Oh take heed of that at any hand. So, ſo, ſo; now it beginnes to quicken, me thinkes I ſee already how ſhe runnes atilt at the wenches eyes, calls the Mayd Bawd, the woman whore, and her husband Lecher; and when all comes to all, like an Iriſh wolfe, ſhe barkes at her owne ſhaddow; but committing her and her Aſſe to their wild-gooſe chace, now to my ſweet-heart Mopſa, for ſhee's all the blocke's laſt in my eye to ſtumble on; and God bleſſe my wits, for the foole haunts me. Dorus, where's my Father Dorus? Your father? O my deere Mopſa. Nay now you flowt me. Flout you? Oh the faire heavens! but this 'tis for a man to caſt away himſelfe in violence of paſſion, and extremity of ſighs, on a piece of beauty that cares not for him, but it is the trickes of you all. Trickes? no as God mend mee; and I ſhould not have a husband till I got him with trickes, I ſhould leade Apes in hell: but faith tell me, doſt thou love me Dorus? Doe I love you quoth ye? It cuts my very heart-ſtrings, doe I love you? why tis the onely marke my endeavours ſhoot at.