Middleton, Thomas · published 1607 · first performed or written 1606 [1604-1606] (Annals) comedy · Children of Paul's (second) unassigned nearest T33 Fathers, daughters and marriage negotiat · 509 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T33: daughter, marriage, father, love, davus, matter, son, chremes, wife, mother.
Where shall I seek her now?— oh if she knew The Dangers that attend on women's lives, She would rather lodge under a poor thatched Roof Then under carved seelings: she was my joy, And all content that I received from life, My dear and only Daughter: What says the Note she left, let me again With staider grief peruse it— Father? wonder not at my so sudden departure, without your leave or knowledge, thus under pardon I excuse it, had you had knowledge of it, I know you would have sought to restrain it, and hinder me from what I have long desired, being now happily preferred to a Gentleman's service in London; about Holborn, if you please to send, you may hear well of me— As false as she is disobedient, Iy'e made larger inquirie, left no place (Where Gentry keeps) unsought, yet cannot hear, Which drives me most into a shameful fear: Woe worth th' infected cause that makes me visit This man-devouring City— where I spent My unshapen youth, to be my ages curse, And surfeited away my name and state, In swinish Riots, that now being sober, I do awake, a Beggar,— I may hate her. Whose youth voids wine, his age is cursed with water, Oh heavens! I know the price of ill, too well, What, the confusions are in whom they dwell, And how soon Maids are to their Ruins won One minute, and eternally undone: So in mine may it: may it not be thus?— Though she be poor, her honours precious, May be my present form, and her fond fear, May chase her from me, if her eye should get me, And therefore as my love and wants advise. I'll serve until I find her in disguise. Such is my care to fright her from base evils I leave calm state to live amongst you, devils. Were these fit words think you to be sent to any Citizens wife, to enjoy the Daughter, and love the mother too for a need? I would foully scorn that man, that should love me only for a need I tell you: and here the Knave writes again, that by the marriage of my Daughter, a has the better means and opportunity to myself, he lies in his Throat like a villain, he has no opportunity of me, for all that, 'tis for his betters to have opportunity of me, and that he shall well know— a base proud knave— a has forgot how he came up, & brought two of his country men to give their words to my husband for a suit of green Karsey, a has forgot all this, and how does he appear to me, when his white Satin suttes on, but like a maggot crept out of a Nutshell, a fair body and a foul neck, those parts that are covered of him, looks indifferent well, because we cannot see 'em else for all his cleansing, pruning and paring, he's not worthy a broker's Daughter, and so tell him.
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)
Where ſhall I ſeeke her now?—oh if ſhe knew The Dangers that attend on womens liues, She would rather lodge vnder a poore thatcht Roofe Then vnder carued ſeelings: ſhe was my ioy, And all content that I receiu'd from life, My deere and onely Daughter: What ſaies the Note ſhe left, let mee agen With ſtayeder greefe peruſe it—Father? wonder not at my ſo ſuddaine departure, without your leaue or knowledge, thus vnder pardon I excuſe it, had you had knowledge of it, I know you would haue ſought to reſtraine it, and hinder me from what I haue long deſirde, being now happilye preferr'd to a Gentlemans ſeruice in London; about Holborne, if you pleaſe to ſend, you may heare well of me— As falſe as ſhe is diſobedient, Iy'e made larger inquirie, left no place (Where Gentrie keepes) vnſought, yet cannot heare, Which driues me moſte into a ſhamefull feare: Woe worth th' infected cauſe that makes me viſit This man-deuouring Cittie—where I ſpent My vnſhapen youth, to be my ages curſſe, And ſurfetted away my name and ſtate, In ſwiniſh Riots, that now being ſober, I doe awake, a Begger,—I may hate her. Whoſe youth voides wine, his age is curſt with water, Oh heauens! I know the price of ill, too well, What, the confuſions are in whome they dwell, And how ſoone Maides are to their Ruins won One minute, and aeternally vndone: So in mine may it: may it not be thus?— Though ſhe be poore, her honours preceous, May be my preſent forme, and her foud feare, May chace her from me, if her eye ſhould getme, And therefore as my loue and wants aduiſe. Ile ſerue vntill I finde her in diſguiſe. Such is my care to fright her from baſe euils I leaue calme ſtate to liue amongſt you, deuils. Were theſe fit wordes thinke you to be ſent to anye Cittizens wiſe, to enioy the Daughter, and loue the mother too for a neede? I would foulye ſcorne that man, that ſhould loue me onely for a neede I tell you: and heere the Knaue writes agen, that by the mariage of my Daughter, a has the better meanes and opportunitie to my ſelfe, hee lies in his Throate like a villaine, he has no opportunitie of mee, for all that, tis for his betters to haue opportunitie of me, and that he ſhall well knowe—a baſe proud knaue—a has forgot how he came vp, & brought two of his countrie men to giue their words to my huſband for a ſute of greene Karſey, a has forgot all this, and how does hee appeare to me, when his white Sattin ſuttes on, but like a Magot crept out of a Nutſhell, a faire bodie and a foule necke, thoſe partes that are couered of him, lookes indifferent well, becauſe we cannot ſee e'm elſe for all his clenſing, pruning and paring, hee's not worthy a Brokers Daughter, and ſo tell him.