Middleton, Thomas · published 1607 · first performed or written 1606 [1604-1606] (Annals) comedy · Children of Paul's (second) unassigned nearest T51 Parents and children: blessing, birthrig · 501 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T51: esau, iacob, father, son, isaac, god, love, birthright, parents, thing.
Who Quomodo? merely enriched by shifts, And cozenages, believe it. I see the world is very loath to praise me, 'tis Rawly friends with me, I cannot blame it, For what I have done, has been to vex and shame it. Here comes my Son, the hope, the landed heir, On't whose rare thrift, will say men's tongues you lie, I'll keep by law what was got craftily. methinks I hear him say so: He does salute the livery with good grace, And solemn Gesture— oh my young Worshipful M. you have parted from a dear Father, a wise and provident father. Art thou grown an Ass now? Such an honest Father— Prithee Beadle leave thy lying, I am scarce able to endure thee i'faith, what honesty didst thou ere know by my Father speak, rule your tongue Beadle lest I make you prove it, and then I know what will become of you, 'tis the scurvy scurviest thing i'th' earth to belie the dead so, and he's a beastly Son and heir that will stand by, and hear his father belied to his face, he will near prosper I warrant him, Troth if I be not ashamed to go to Church with him, I would I might be hanged, I fear such filthy Tales go on him, oh if I had known he had been such a lewd fellow in his life he should near have kept me company. Oh— o— o! But I am glad he's gone, though 'twere long first, Shortyard and I will revel it i'faith, I have made him my Rent-gatherer already. He shall be speedily disinherited, he gets not a foot, not the Crown of a Molehill, i'll sooner make a courtier my heir for teaching my wife tricks than thee, my most neglectful Son? Oh now the corpse, I shall observe yet farther. O my most modest, virtuous and remembering wife, she shall have all when I die, she shall have all. Master Esay? 'tis, oh what shift shall I make now? oh— Sweet wife she swoons, i'll let her alone, i'll have no mercy at this time, i'll not see her, i'll follow the corpse. The Devil grind thy Bones, thou cozening Rascal. Give her a little more air, tilt up her head, comfort thyself good widow, do not fall like a Beast for a husband, there's more than we can well tell where to put 'em, good soul. Oh, I shall be well anon. Fie, you have no patience i'faith, I have buried four Husbands, and never offered 'em such abuse. Cousin, how do you? Sorry to see you ill coz. The worst is past I hope. I hope so to. Lend me your hand sweet coz I have troubled you No trouble indeed forsooth— Good Cousin have a care of her, comfort her up as much as you can, and all little enough I warrant ye. My most sweet love. My life is not so dear. I have always pitied you.
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)
Who Quomodo? meerely enricht by ſhifts, And couſnages, beleeue it. I ſee the world is verye loath to praiſe me, Tis Rawlye friendes with me, I cannot blame it, For what I haue done, has beene to vexe and ſhame it. Heere comes my Sonne, the hope, the landed heyre, Ont whoſe rare thrift, will ſay mens tongues you lye, Ile keepe by lawe what was got craftily. Me thinkes I heare him ſay ſo: He does ſalute the liuerie with good grace, And ſolemne Geſture— oh my yong Worſhipful M. you haue parted from a deere Father, a wiſe and proui-dent father. Art thou growne an Aſſe now? Such an honeſt Father— Prethee Beadle leaue thy lying, I am ſcarce able to endure thee yfaith, what honeſty didſt thou ere know by my Father ſpeake, rule your tongue Beadle leaſt I make you proue it, and then I knowe what will become of you, tis the ſcuruy eſt thing i'th earth to belye the dead ſo, and hee's a beaſtly Sonne and heyre that wil ſtand by, and heare his father belyed to his face, hee will nere proſper I warrant him, Troth if I be not aſham'd to goe to Church with him, I would I might be hang'd, I feare ſuch filthye Tales goe on him, oh if I had knowne hee had beene ſuch a lewde fellow in his life hee ſhould nere haue kept me company. Oh—o—o! But I am glad hee's gone, tho twere long firſt, Shortyard and I will reuell it yfaith, I haue made him my Rentgatherer alreadie. Hee ſhall bee ſpeedilye diſinherited, hee gettes not a foote, not the Crowne of a Mole-hill, ile ſooner make a courtyer my heyre for teaching my wife trickes then thee, my moſte neglectfull Sonne? Oh now the coarſe, I ſhall obſerue yet farder. O my moſte modeſt, vertuous and remembring wife, ſhe ſhall haue all when I dye, ſhe ſhall haue all. Maiſter Eaſie? tis, oh what ſhift ſhall I make now? oh— Sweete wife ſhe ſownes, ile let her alone, ile haue no mercie at this time, ile not ſee her, ile follow the coarſe. The Deuill grinde thy Bones, thou coſning Raſcal. Giue her a little more ayre, tilt vp her head, comfort thy ſelfe good widdowe, doe not fall like a Beaſt for a huſband, there's more then wee can well tell where to put e'm, good ſoule. Oh, I ſhall be well anon. Fye, you haue no patience yfaith, I haue buried foure Husbands, and neuer offered e'm ſuch abuſe. Couzen, how doe you? Sorry to ſee you ill Couze. The worſt is paſt I hope. I hope ſo to. Lend me your hand ſweet Couze I haue troubled you No trouble indeed forſooth—Good Couzen haue a care of her, comfort her vp as much as you can, and all little ynough I warrant yee. My moſte ſweete loue. My life is not ſo deere. I haue alwaies pittyed you.