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 · 511 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T33: daughter, marriage, father, love, davus, matter, son, chremes, wife, mother.
And thereupon, I out of policy possessed my son, Which since I have found lewd, and now intend To disinherit him for ever, Not only this was in my death set down, But thereby a firm trial of my wife, Her constant sorrows, her remembering virtues, All which are Dews, the shine of a next morning dries 'em up all I see't. Did you profess wise cozenage, and would dare To put a woman to her two days choice, When of a minute does it? Less, a moment The twinkling of an eye, a glimpse, scarce something does it, Your Lordship yet will grant she is my wife. O heaven! After some penance, and the dues of law I must acknowledge that. I scarce like Those dues of law. My Lord, although the law too gently lot his wife, The wealth he left behind he cannot challenge. How? Behold his hand against it. He does devise all means to make me mad, that I may no more lie with my wife in perfect memory, I know't but yet the lands will maintain me in my wits: the land will do so much for me. In witness whereof I have set to mine own hand, Ephestian Quomodo. 'tis firm enough your own sir. A jest my Lord, I did I knew not what. It should seem so, deceit is her own foe Craftily gets, and childishly let's go. But yet the lands are his. ay, warrant ye. No my good Lord, the lands know the right heir, I am their master once more. Have you the lands? Yes truly I praise heaven. Is this good dealing? are there such consciences abroad, how? which way could he come by 'em? My Lord i'll quickly resolve you that it comes to me This cozener whom too long I called my patron, To my thought dying, and the fool his son Possessed of all, which my brain partly sweat for, I held it my best virtue, by a plot To get from him what for him was ill got. O beastly Shortyard! When no sooner mine, But I was glad more quickly to resign. Craft once discovered shows her abject line. He hits me everywhere, for craft once known, does teach fools wit, leaves the deceiver none. My deeds have cleft me, cleft me. Room there. A little yet to raise my spirit. Here master Lethe comes to wed my Daughter. That's all the joy is left me: ha? who's this? What crimes have those brought forth? The shame of lust, Most viciously on this his wedding morning, This man was seized in shame with that bold Strumpet. Why, 'tis she he means to marry. No in truth. In truth you do. Who for his wife his Harlot doth prefer, Good reason 'tis, that he should marry her. I crave it on my knees, such was his vow at first, I'll say so too And work out mine own safety, Such was his vow at first, indeed my Lord, howe'er his mood has changed him?
seed 43: T6 · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
And thereupon, I out of policie poſſeſt my ſonne, Which ſince I haue found lewd, and now intend To diſinherit him for euer, Not onely this was in my death ſet downe, But thereby a firme triall of my wife, Her conſtant ſorrowes, her remembring vertues, All which are Dewes, the ſhine of a next morning 'dries 'em vp all I ſee't. Did you profeſſe wiſe couſenage, and would dare To put a woman to her two dayes choice, When of a minute do's it? Leſſe, a moment The twinckling of an eye, a glimpſe, ſcarce ſomthing do's it, Your Lordſhip yet will graunt ſhe is my wife. O heauen! After ſome penance, and the Deues of law I muſt acknowledge that. I ſcarce like Thoſe Deues of lawe. My Lord, altho the law too gently lot his wife, The wealth he left behind he cannot chalenge. How? Behold his hand againſt it. He do's deuize all meanes to make mee mad, that I may no more lie with my wife in perfect memorie, I know't btet the landes will maintaine me in my wits: the lande will doe ſo much for mee. In witneſſe whereof I haue ſet to mine owne hand, Ephſtian Quomodo. Tis firme enough your owne ſir. A ieſt my Lord, I did I knew not what. It ſhould ſeeme ſo, deceit is her owne foe Craftily gets, and childiſhly lets goe. But yet the lands are his. I, warrant yee. No my good Lord, the lands know the right heire, I am their maſter once more. Haue you the lands? Yes truly I praiſe heauen. Is this good dealing? are there ſuch conſciences abroad, how? which way could he come by 'em? My Lord ile quickly reſolue you that it comes to me This couſner whom too long I call'd my patrone, To my thought dying, and the foole his ſonne Poſſeſt of all, which my braine partly ſweat for, I held it my beſt vertue, by a plot To get from him what for him was ill got. O beaſtly Shortyard! When no ſooner mine, But I was glad more quickly to reſigne. Craft once diſcouer'd ſhewes her abiect line. He hits me euery where, for craft once knowne, Do's teach fooles wit, leaues the deceiuer none. My deedes haue cleft me, cleft me. Roome there. A little yet to raiſe my ſpirit. Here maiſter Lethe comes to wed my Daughter. That's all the ioy is left me: ha? who's this? What crimes haue thoſe brought foorth? The ſhame of luſt, Moſt viciouſly on this his wedding morning, This man was ceazde in ſhame with that bolde Strumpet. Why, tis ſhe he meanes to matrye. No in truth. In truth you doe. Who for his wife his Harlot doth preferre, Good reaſon tis, that he ſhould martie her. I craue it on my knees, ſuch was his vowe at firſt, Ile ſay ſo too And worke out mine owne ſafetie, Such was his vowe at firſt, indeede my Lord, How ere his moode has chang'd him?