Sharpham, Edward · published 1607 · first performed or written 1607 (Annals) comedy · Children of the King's Revels T23 Husbands, wives and jealousy typicality 0.91 · 462 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T23: wife, husband, cuckold, jealousy, woman, jealous, mistress, love, house, honest.
Why sir? ye are no Cuckold: No? no Cuckold? he lies with your Lady, and your Lady lies with him, yet I am no cuckold. Why no, give me but attention, and with a word i'll wipe away your horns. No, no, words are to weak to wipe them off, when deed have put them on. But hear me sir. with open ears to swallow comfort. I met my Lady and he fast by the Garden wall, & asking for your jealous worship, they both replied you were not jealous, this spoke they both together: in this, you know they both did lie together, and yet made you no cuckold. Ha! mean'st so? even so indeed sir. Nay, than I cry ye mercy wife, i'faith she yet may chance be honest. O sir, very honest as a pretty Sempstress, or a poor waiting Gentlewoman. Well Wages, if I be a Cuckold— Why sir, what will ye do if ye be? What will I do? i'll make it known, for I will be a Citizen, and so be a Subject for Poets, and a slave to my own wife, therefore follow me Wages, I will do't. O grief! how thou tormentest me, it dwells in mine eyes, feasts on my blood: swims in my tears, and lodges in my heart. O heaven! have I deserved this plague? O Husband! why shouldst thou use me thus? was not my behaviour unto thee as soft as Down, as smooth as polished crystal, I and my love as clear? was I not like a handmaid, even obedient to thy very thoughts? did not my nuptial duty like a shadow follow the very turning of thine eye? Oh! thou once didst love me, but thy love was too hot, and like to self consuming fire, it burned out, and how soon, 'tis turned to cold ashes, & therefore henceforth i'll seem jealous of him: for since all endeavours fail, i'll now try if jealousy can drive out jealousy: and here is fit occasion for to work upon: Why how now Husband, wooing of another wife before my death, whence comes this? in my conscience 'tis a plague that Cupid hath lain upon me for sleeping croslegd in your absence. What, are ye grown as weary of your wife as of a foul shirt? must ye be changing? Good madam be patient. Patient! no, you are his patient, and he is your Physician, a minister's to ye (with a Morbus Gallicus take ye both) I pray forsooth let me be your Butler, and scrape your Trenchers, since I am already feign to live of your leavings. Woman, art jealous? I. Why? Because you give me cause: but man are you jealous? I. why? Because thou givest me cause.
nodes 95–118 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 5 of 46 in this edition
Length
462 words · 615 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T23 — Husbands, wives and jealousycross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.908 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
seed 43: T26 · seed 44: T28 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Why sir? ye are no Cuckold: No? no Cuckold? he lies with your Ladie, and your Ladie lyes with him, yet I am no cuckold. Why no, giue me but attention, and with a worde ile wipe away your hornes. No, no, wordes are to weake to wipe them off, when deede haue put them on. But heare me sir. with open eares to swallow comfort. I met my Ladie and he fast by the Garden wall, & asking for your iealious worship, they both replide you were not iealious, this spoke they both together: in this, you know they both did lie together, and yet made you no cuckold. Ha! mean'st so? Euen so indeede sir. Nay, then I crie ye mercy wife, yfaith shee yet may chance be honest. O sir, verie honest as a prettie Semsteris, or a poore waiting Gentlewoman. Well Wages, if I be a Cuckold— Why sir, what will ye doe if ye be? What will I doe? ile make it knowne, for I will bee a Cittizen, and so be a Subiect for Poets, and a slaue to my owne wife, therefore followe mee Wages, I will doo't. O griefe! how thou torment'st me, it dwels in mine eyes, feastes on my blood: swimmes in my teares, and lodges in my heart. O heauen! haue I deseru'd this plague? O Husband! why should'st thou vse mee thus? was not my behauiour vnto thee as soft as Downe, as smoothe as pollish'd christall, I and my loue as cleere? was I not like a hand-maide, euen obedient to thy verye thoughts? did not my nuptiall duetie like a shadowe followe the verie turning of thine eye? Oh! thou once didst loue mee, but thy loue was too hot, and like to selfe consuming fire, it burnt out, and how soone, tis turn'd to colde ashes, & therfore hencefoorth ile seeme iealious of him: for since all indeuours faile, ile now trye if Iealousie can driue out iealousie: and here is fit occation for to work vpon: Why how now Husband, wooing of another wife before my death, whence comes this? in my conscience tis a plague that Cupid hath laine vppon mee for sleeping croslegd in your absence. What, are ye growne as wearie of your wife as of a foule shirt? must ye be changing? Good madam be patient. Patient! no, you are his patient, and he is your Phisitian, a ministers to ye (with a Morbus Gallicus take ye both) I pray forsooth let mee bee your Butler, and scrape your Trenchers, since I am alreadye faine to liue of your leauinges. Woman, art Iellious? I. Why? Because you giue me cause: but man are you iealious? I. why? Because thou giuest me cause.