Heywood, Thomas · published 1607 · first performed or written 1603 [Feb 12-Mar 6, payment] (Annals) tragedy · Worcester's Men unassigned nearest T41 Household service: masters, doors and po · 488 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T41: master, house, door, iohn, old, mistress, basket, lord, gentleman, ick.
Nicklas what make you here? Why are not you At supper in the hall there with your fellows. Master I stayed your rising from the board, To speak with you. Be brief then gentle Nicklas, My wife and guests attend me in the parlour: Why dost thou pause? Now Nicklas you want money, And unthrift like would eat into your wages Ere you have earned it: here▪ sir half a crown, Play the good husband and away to supper. By this hand an honourable Gentleman, I will not see him wronged: sir I have served you long, you entertained me seven years before your beard, you knew we sir, before you knew my mistress. What of this good Nicklas. I never was a makebate or a knave I have no fault but one, I am given to quarrel, But not with women, I will tell you master That which will make your heart leap from your breast, Your hair to startle from your head, your ears to tingle. What preparations this to dismal news? 'sblood sir I love you better than your wife, I'll make it good. Thou art a knave, and I have much ado With wonted patience to contain my rage And not to break thy pate: thou art a knave, I'll turn you with your base comparisons Out of my doors. Do, do, There's not room for Wendoll and me to, Both in one house: oh master, master, That Wendol is a villain. ay, saucy. Strike, strike, do strike, yet hear me, I am no fool, I know a villain when I see him act Deeds of a villain, master, master, that base slave Enjoys my mistress, and dishonours you. Thou hast killed me with a weapon whose sharpened point Hath pricked quite through and through my shivering heart, Drops of cold sweat fit dangling on my hairs, Like morning's dew upon the golden flowers, And I am plunged into a strange agony, What didst thou say? If any word that touched His Credit or her reputation, It is as hard to enter my belief, As dives into Heaven. I can gain nothing, they are two That never wronged me, I knew before 'twas but a thankless office, and perhaps As much as my service or my life is worth, A this I know, but this and more, More by a thousand dangers could not hire me To smother such a heinous wrong from you, I saw, and I have said. 'tis probable, though blunt, yet he is honest, Though I durst pawn my life, and on their faith Hazard the dear salvation of my soul, Yet in my trust I may be too secure: May this be true: Oh may it: can it be: Is it by any wonder possible, Man, woman, what thing mortal may we trust, When friends and bosom wives prove so unjust What instance hast thou of this strange report?
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)
Nicklas what make you here? Why are not you At supper in the hal there with your fellowes. Master I staid your rising from the boord, To speake with you. Be briefe then gentle Nicklas, My wife and guests attend me in the parlor: Why dost thou pause? Now Nicklas you want mony, And vnthrift like would eat into your wages Ere you haue earnd it: here sir halfe a crowne, Play the good husband and away to supper. By this hand an honourable Gentleman, I will not see him wrongd: sir I haue serud you long, you enertaind me seuen yeares before your beard, you knew we sir, before you knew my mistris. What of this good Nicklas. I neuer was a make-bate or a knaue I haue no fault but one, I am giuen to quarrel, But not with women, I wil tel you maister That which wil make your hart leape from your brest, Your haire to startle from your head, your ears to tingle. What preparations this to dismal newes? Sblood sir I loue you better then your wife, Ile make it good. Thou art a knaue, and I haue much ado With wonted patience to containe my rage And not to breake thy pate: thou art a knaue, Ile turne you with your base comparisons Out of my dores. Do, do, Theres not roome for Wendoll and mee to, Both in one house: oh maister, maister, That Wendol is a villen. I, saucy. Strike, strike, do strike, yet heare me, I am no foole, I know a villen when I see him act Deeds of a villen, maister, maister, that base slaue Inioyes my mistris, and dishonors you. Thou hast kild me with a weapon whose sharpned point Hath prickt quite through and through my shiuering hart, Drops o cold sweat fit dangling on my haires, Like mornings dew vpon the golden flowers, And I am plungd into a strange agony, What didst thou say? If any word that toucht His Credit or her reputation, It is as hard to enter my beleefe, As Diues into Heauen. I can gaine nothing, they are two That neuer wrongd me, I knew before Twas but a thankles office, and perhaps As much as my seruice or my life is woorth, A this I know, but this and more, More by a thousand dangers could not hire me To smother such a heinous wrong from you, I saw, and I haue said. Tis probable, though blunt, yet he is honest, Though I durst pawne my life, and on their faith Hazard the dere saluation of my soule, Yet in my trust I may be too secure: May this be true: Oh may it: can it be: Is it by any wonder possible, Man, woman, what thing mortal may we trust, When friends and bosome wiues proue so vniust What instance hast thou of this strange repot?