Dekker, Thomas / Webster, John · published 1607 · first performed or written 1604 (Annals) comedy · Children of Paul's (second) unassigned nearest T37 Riches, poverty and covetousness · 530 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T37: wealth, riches, money, god, rich, poverty, men, learning, poor, ic.
Poverty, thou bane of Chastity, Poison of beauty, Broker of Maidenheads, I see when Force, nor Wit can scale the hold, Wealth must. she'll near be won, that defies gold. But lives there such a creature: Oh 'tis rare. To find a woman chaste, that's poor and fair. Now lamb! has not his Honour dealt like an honest Nobleman with you. I can tell you. you shall not find him a templar, nor one of these cogging Cathern pear-coloured-beards, that by their good wills would have no pretty woman scape them. Thou art a very bawd: thou art a Devil Cast in a reverend shape; thou stale damnation! Why hast thou me enticed from mine own Paradise, To steal fruit in a barren wilderness. Bawd and devil, and stale damnation! will women's tongues (like Bakers legs) never go straight. Had thy Circaean Magic me transformed Into that sensual shape for which thou conjur'st, And that I were turned common Venturer, I could not love this old man. This old man, umh: this old man? do his hoary hairs stick in your stomach? yet methinks his silver hairs should move you, they may serve to make you Bodkins: Does his age grieve you? fool? Is not old wine wholesomest, old pippins toothsommest, old wood burn brightest, old Linen wash whitest, old soldiers Sweetheart are surest, and old Lovers are soundest. I hatried both. So will not I. You'd have some young perfumed beardless Gallants board you, that spits all his brains out at's tongues end, would you not? N, none at al, not anie. None at all? what do you make there then? why are you a burden to the world's conscience, and an eyesore to well given men, I dare pawn my gown and all the beds in my house, and all the gettings in Michaelmas term next to a Tavern token, that thou shalt never be an innocent. Who are so? fool's? why then are you so precise: your husbands down the wind and will you like a haggler's Arrow, be down the weather, Strike whilst the iron is hot. A woman when there be roses in her cheeks, Cherries on her lips, Civet in her breath, ivory in her teeth, lilies in her hand, and liquorish in her heart, why she's like a play. If new very good company, very good company, but if stale, like old Ieronimo: go by, go by. Therefore as I said before, strike. Besides: you must think that the commodity of beauty was not made to lie dead upon any young woman's hands: if your husband have given up his Cloak, let another take measure of you in his jerkin: for as the Cobbler, in the night time walks with his lantern, the Merchant, and the Lawyer with his Link, and the Courtier with his Torch: So every lip has his lettuce to himself: the Lob. his Lass, the Collier his Dowdy, the Western- man his Pug, the serving-man his Punk, the student his Nun in white Friars, the Puritan his Sister, and the Lord his Lady: which worshipful vocation may fall upon you, if you'll but strike whilst the Iron is hot.
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)
Poerty, thou bane of Chastity, Poison of beauty, Broker of Mayden-heades, I see when Force, nor Wit can scale the hold, Wealth must. Sheel nere be won, that defies gode. But liues there such a creature: Oh tis rare. To finde a woman chast, thats poore and faire. Now lamb! has not his Honor dealt like an honest Nobleman with you. I can tel you. you shal not find him a Templer, nor one of these cogging Cattern pear-coloured-beards, that by their good woud haue no pretty woman scape them. Thou art a very bawd: thou art a Diuel Cast in a reuerend shape; thou stale damnation! Why hast thou me intist from mine owne Paradice, To steale fruit in a barren wildernes. Bawde and diuel, and stale damnation! Wil womens tounges (like Bakers legs) neuer go straight. Had thy Circaean Magick me transformd Into that sensuall shape for which thou Coniurst, And that I were turn'd common Veuturer, I could not loue this old man. This old man, vmh: this old man? doe his hoarye haires sticke in your stomacke? yet methinkes his siluer haires shoulde mooue you, they may serue to make you Bodkins: Does his age grieue you? foole? Is not old wine wholesommest, olde Pippines toothsommest, old wood burne brightest, old Linnen wash whitest, old souldiors Sweet-hart are surest, and olde Louers are soundest. I hatried both. So wil not I. Youd haue some yong perfum'd beardles Gallants board you, that spits al his braines out ats tongues end, wud you not? N, none at al, not anie. None at al? what doe you make there then? why are you a burden to the worlds conscience, aud an eie-sore to wel giuen mē, I dare pawne m gowne and al the beddes in my house, and al the gettings in Michaelmas terme next to a Tauerne token, that thou shalt neuer be an innocent. Who are so? Fools? why then are you so precize: your husbands down the wind and wil you like a haglers Arrow, be down the weather, Strike whilst the iron is hot. A woman when there be roses in her cheekes, Cherries on her lippes, Ciuet in her breath, Iuory in her teeth, Lyllyes in her hand, and Lickorish in her heart, why shees like a play. If new very good company, very good company, but if stale, like old Ieronimo: goe by, go by. Therefore as I said before, strike. Besides: you must thinke that the commodity of beauty was not made to lye dead vpon any young womans hands: if your husband haue giuen vp his Cloake, let another take measure of you in his Ierkin: for as the Cobler, in the night time walks with his Lanthorne, the Merchant, and the Lawyer with his Link, and the Courtier with his Torch: So euery lip has his Lettice to himselfe: the Lob has his Lasse, the Collier his Dowdy, the Westerne- man his Pug, the Seruing-man his Punke, the student his Nun in white Fryers, the Puritan his Sister, and the Lord his Lady: which worshipfull vocation may fall vppon you, if youle but strike whilest the Iron is hot.