Dekker, Thomas / Webster, John · published 1607 · first performed or written 1605 (Annals) comedy · Children of Paul's (second) unassigned nearest T45 Widows, wooing and remarriage · 496 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T45: widow, widows, hoord, master, gentlemen, wife, randalls, wit, mistress, married.
The knave has more wives than the Turk, he has a wife almost in every shire in England, this parcel Gentlewoman is that Innkeepers Daughter of Doncaster. Hath she the entertainment of her forefathers? will she keep all comers company? She help's to pass away stale Capons, sour wine, and musty provender: but to the purpose, this train was laid by the baggage herself and Fetherstone, who it seems makes her husband a unicorn: and to give fire to't, Greenshield like an Arrant wittal entreats his friend, to ride before his wife, and fetch the money, because taking bitter pills, he should prove but a loose fellow if he went, and so durst not go. And so the poor Stag is to be hunted in Enfield-Chase No sir, Master poet there you miss the plot. Fetherstone and my Lady Greenshield are rid to batter away their light commodities in Ware, Enfield-Chase is to cold for 'em. In Ware! In dirty Ware: I forget myself wise, on with your riding suit and cry Northward hoe, as the boy at Paul's says, let my Prentice get up before thee, and man thee to Ware, lodge in the inn I told thee, spur cut and away. Well sir. Stay, stay, what's the bottom of this riddle? why send you her away? For a thing my little hoary Poet: look thee, I smelled out my noble stinker Greenshield in his Chamber, and as though my heart strings had been cracked, I wept, and sighed, & thumped, and thumped, and raved and ranted, and railed, and told him how my wife was now grown as common as bribery, and that she had hired her tailor to ride with her to Ware, to meet a Gentleman of the Court. Good; and how took he this drench down. Like Eggs and Muscadine, at a gulp: he cries out presently, did not I tell you old man, that she'd win my game when she came to bearing? he rails upon her, will me to take her in the Act; to put her to her white sheet, to be divorced, and for all his guts are not fully scoured by his pothecary, he's pulling on his boots, & will ride along with us; let's muster as many as we can. It willbe excellent sport, to see him and his own wife meet in Ware, wilt not? ay, ay, we'll have a whole Regiment of horse with us. I stand upon thorns, tell I shake him bith' horns: come, boots boy, we must gallop all the way, for the Sin you know is done with turning up the white of an eye, will you join your forces. Like a Hollander against a Dunkirk. March then, this curse is on all lechers thrown, They give horns and at last, horns are their own. Set the best of your little diminutive legs before, and ride post I pray. Is it possible that mistress Doll should be so bad?
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)
The knaue has more wiues than the Turke, he has a wife almost in euery shire in England, this parcel Gentlewoman is that Inkeepers Daughter of Doncaster. Hath she the entertainement of her fore-fathers? wil she keepe all commers company? She help's to passe away stale Capons, sower wine, and musty prouander: but to the purpose, this traine was layd by the baggage her selfe and Fetherstone, who it seemes makes her husband a vnicorne: and to giue fire tot, Greensheild like an Arrant wittall intreates his friend, to ride before his wife, and etch the money, because taking bitter pills, he should proue but a loose fellow if he went, and so durst not go. And so the poore Stag is to bee hunted in Enfeildchace No sir, Maister poet there you misse the plot. Fetherstone and my Lady Greensheild are rid to batter away their light commodities in Ware, Enfeild-chace is to cold for 'em. In Ware! In dur Ware: I forget my selfe wise, on with your ryding suite and cry North-ward hoe, as the boy at Powles saies, let my Prentice get vp before thee, and mn tee to Ware, lodge in the ne I told thee, spur cut and away. Well sir. Stay, stay, whats the bottom of this riddle? why send you her away? For a thing my little hoary Poet: looke thee, I smelt out my noble stincker Greensheild in his Chamber, and as tho my heart stringes had bin crackt, I wept, and sighd, & thumpd, and thumpd, and rau'd and randed, and raild, and told him how my wife was now growne as common as baibery, and that shee had hierd her Taylor to ride with her to Ware, to meete a Gentleman of the Court. Good; and how tooke he this drench downe. Like Egs and Muscadine, at a gulp: hee cries out presently, did not I tell you old man, that sheed win my game when she came to bearing? hee railes vpon her, wills me to take her in the Act; to put her to her white sheete, to bee diuorc'd, and for all his guts are not fully scourd by his Pottecary, hee's pulling on his bootes, & will ride along with vs; lets muster as many as wee can. It wilbe excellent spot, to see him and his owne wife meete in Ware, wilt not? I, I, weele haue a whole Regiment of horse with vs. I stand vpon thornes, tel I shake him bith hores: come, bootes boy, we must gallop all the way, for the Sin you know is done with turning vp the white of an eye, will you ioyne your forces. Like a Hollander against a Dunkrke. March then, this curse is on all letchers throwne, They giue hornes and at last, hornes are their owne. Set the best of your little diminitiue legges before, and ride post I pray. Is it possible that mistris Dll should bee so bad?