Middleton, Thomas · published 1607 · first performed or written 1606 [1604-1606] (Annals) comedy · Children of Paul's (second) T45 Widows, wooing and remarriage typicality 0.89 · 530 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T45: widow, widows, hoord, master, gentlemen, wife, randalls, wit, mistress, married.
And i'll effect your will a my fidelity. I do account myself the happiest Widow that ever counterfeited weeping, in that I have the leisure now, both to do that Gentleman good, and do myself a pleasure, but I must seem like a hanging Moon a little waterish a while. I entertain both thee and thy Device, 'twill put 'em both to shame. That is my hope sir, Especially that strumpet. Save you sweet widow, I suffer for your heaviness. O Master Rerage, I have lost the dearest husband that ever woman did enjoy. You must have patience yet. Oh talk not to me of patience and you love me, good Master Rerage. Yet if all tongues go right, he did not use you so well as a man mought. Nay, that's true indeed Master Rerage, he near used me so well as a woman might have been used, that's certain in troth t'hasa's been our greatest falling out sir, and though it be the part of a widow, to show herself a woman for her husband's death, yet when I remember all his unkindness, I cannot weep a stroke i'faith Master Rerage, and therefore wisely did a great widow in this land, comfort up another, go too Lady (quoth she) leave blubbering, thou thinkest upon thy husbands good parts when thou shedst tears, do but remember how often he has lain from thee, and how many naughty slippery turns he has done thee, & thou wilt near weep for him I warrant thee— you would not think how that counsel has wrought with me Master Rerage, I could not dispend another tear now, and you would give me near so much. Why I count you the wiser Widow, it shows you have wisdom, when you can check your passion, for mine own part, I have no sense to sorrow for his death, whose life was the only Rub to my affection. Troth and so it was to mine, but take courage now, you're a Landed Gentleman, & my Daughter is seven hundred pound strong to join with you. But Lethe lies i'th' way. Let him lie still, You shall tread over him or i'll fail in will. Sweet widow. What a beloved man did I live? my Servants gall their fingers with ringing, my wives cheeks smart with weeping, stand in every corner, you may take water in my house— but am not I a wise fool now? what if my wife should take my death so to heart, that she should sicken upon't, nay swoon, nay die? when did I hear of a woman do so, let me see,— Now I remember me, I think 'twas before my Time; yes, I have heard of those wives that have wept, and sobbed, and swoon— marry I never heard but they recovered again, that's a comfort la, that's a comfort, & I hope so will mine— peace, 'tis near upon the time, I see, here comes the worshipful livery, I have the Hospital Boys, I perceive little Tomazin will bestow cost of me,— I'll listen to the common censure now, how the world tongues me when my ear lies low.
seed 43: T40 · seed 44: T40 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
And ile effect your will a my Fedelitie. I doe account my ſelfe the happyeſt Widdowe that euer counterfetted weeping, in that I haue the leaſure now, both to doe that Gentleman good, and doe my ſelfe a pleaſure, but I muſt ſeeme like a hanging Moonea little wateriſh a while. I entertaine both thee and thy Deuice, Twill put e'm both to ſhame. That is my hope ſir, Eſpecially that ſtrumpet. Saue you ſweete widdowe, I ſuffer for your heauineſſe. O Maiſter Rerage, I haue loſt the deareſt huſband that euer woman did inioy. You muſt haue patience yet. Oh talke not to mee of patience and you loue me, good Maiſter Rerage. Yet if all tongues goe right, hee did not vſe you ſo wel as a man mought. Nay, that's true indeed Maiſter Rerage, he nere vſd me ſo well as a woman might haue beene vſde, that's certain in troth ta's beene our greateſt falling out ſir, and though it be the part of a widdowe, to ſhow her ſelfe a woman for her Husbands death, yet when I remember al his vnkindneſſe, I cannot weepe a ſtroake yfaith Maiſter Rerage, and therefore wiſely did a great widdow in this land, comfort vp another, goe too Lady (quoth ſhe) leaue blubbering, thou thinkeſt vpon thy husbands good parts when thou ſheddeſt teares, doe but remember how often hee ha's laine from thee, and how many naughtie ſlipperie turnes he has done thee, & thou wilt nere weepe for him I warrant thee—you would not thinke how that counſell ha's wrought with me Maiſter Rerage, I could not diſpend another teare now, and you would giue me nere ſo much. Why I count you the wiſer Widdowe, it ſhowes you haue wiſdome, when you can checke your paſſion, for mine owne part, I haue no ſence to ſorrowe for his death, whoſe life was the onely Rub to my affection. Troth and ſo it was to mine, but take courage now, your'e a Landed Gentleman, & my Daughter is ſeauen hundred pound ſtrong to ioyne with you. But Lethe lyes'ith way. Let him lye ſtill, You ſhall treade ore him or ile faile in will. Sweete widdowe. What a beloude man did I liue? my Seruants gall their fingers with ringing, my wiues cheeks ſmart with weeping, ſtand in euerie corner, you may take water in my houſe— but am not I a wiſe foole now? what if my wife ſhould take my death ſo to heart, that ſhee ſhould ſicken vppon't, nay ſwone, nay dye? when did I heare of a woman doe ſo, let mee ſee,—Now I remember me, I thinke twas before my Time; yes, I haue heard of thoſe wiues that haue wept, and ſbd, and ſwound—marry I neuer heard but they recouered agen, that's a cōfort la, that's a comfort, & I hope ſo will mine —peace, tis nere vppon the time, I ſee, here comes the worſhipful liuerie, I haue the Hoſpital Boyes, I perceiue little Tomazin will beſtow coſt of me,—Ile liſten to the common cenſure now, how the world tongues me when my are lyes lowe.