Armin, Robert · published 1609 · first performed or written 1606 [c.1606-1608] (Annals) comedy · Children of the King's Revels unassigned nearest T28 Marriage-making: weddings, brides and ma · 491 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T28: married, marriage, wedding, day, bride, father, wife, luce, love, husband.
New wedded Lady, & our morning's bride, What is't that troubles ye? A loss but being small. No matter for the loss. You find a purchase, equals any cross. Let it go then. she knows me and this constant accident Subscribes to't, how can she excuse, This double deed, this false neglect of love? O women how you dally in your trust, How quickly you forget late living life, And bury the remembrance in your smiles All ye this morning for the dead to sigh, And shed your tears in bosom of new choice How have I sifted your loose difference, For ever being precedent against all. Glad am I at this opportunity, Who landed me even in the jaws of fear Swallowing my destine happiness To utter ruin of herself and me If the unconstant air whistle abroad, That Humil lives, than Humils widow dies In desperate scandal, racked and tormented, In the remembrance of old wretchedness, Which to prevent, plots cunningly contrived Must buckler my repute so weakly wived. Lost her glove? So she makes known. I'll find it to my everliving glory, And the next triumph, wear it in my helm Daring all gallants in defence to approve, S. William Vergirs Lady owes this glove. If my good fortune challenge such account, To find it by my friend or industry, I'll prick it on a pole, and with my lance, curvet with nimble speed, in course of arms, And as I snatch it by a curious pass, Cry in loud echo, here is for her love, Who on her wedding day did lose this glove. The Bride, our new made mother lost her glove. I sister, so she says. I'll seek no further, for it is in vain. Especially when quicker eyes than ours, Arch in the brows of loves two votaries, Lord how they'll brag to find it questionless, 'twill prove a ransom of a thousand kisses, Amorous glances, modest courtesy, O how these flatterers can insinuate, And stretch an inch of length to an ell of wide here's much in office for a little pay. A glove God wot. I sister, so they say, go to ye wanton you He that shall marry thee, is matched i'faith, To English rash, or to a Dutch snaphance, You will strike fire with words— Who I? now as I live sweet Moll. If Filbon marry me, as by this light. And wink. 'tis hard to juggle with the devil, we maids So simper in each others quantity As we know fashion ere it be devised Forswear you one, and I'll forswear— The other, just even so, Shall I be plain with thee— You'll answer, no I. Tab. No I. Mary. I no. I know you will not, therefore let him go; I love my Filbon as men love good clothes, Put them on every day. And I love Towers as I love my sleep, Embracing thus, folding most dearly.
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)
New wedded Lady, & our mornings bride, What is't that troubles ye? A losse but being small. No matter for the losse. You find a purchase, equals any crosse. Let it go then. she knowes me and this constant accident Subscribes to't, how can she excuse, This double deede, this false neglect of loue? O women how you dally in your trust, How quickly you forget late liuing life, And bury the remembrance in your smiles All ye this morning for the dead to sigh, And shed your teares in bosome of new choice How haue I sifted your loose difference, For euer being president against all. Glad am I at this oportunity, Who landed me euen in the iawes of feare Swallowing my destiue happinesse To vtter ruine of herselfe and me If the vnconstant aire whistle abroad, That Humil liues, then Humils widow dies In desperat scandall, rackt and tormented, In the remembrance of old wretchednesse, Which to preuent, plots cunningly contriu'd Must buckler my repute so weakly wiu'd. Lost her gloue? So she makes knowne. Ile find it to my euerliuing glory, And the next triumph, weare it in my elme Daring all gallants in defence to approue, S. William Vergirs Lady owes this gloue. If my good fortune challenge such account, To find it by my friend or industry, Ile prick it on a pole, and with my launce, Curuet with nimble speed, in course of armes, And as I snatch it by a curious passe, Cry in lowd eccho, here is for her loue, Who on her wedding day did loose this gloue. The Bride, our new made mother lost her gloue. I sister, so she saies. Ile seeke no further, for it is in vaine. Especially when quicker eyes then ours, Arch in the browes of loues two votaries, Lord how they'le bragge to find it questionles, Twill proue a ransome of a thousand kisses, Amorous glaunces, modest curtesie, O how these flaterers can insinuate, And stretch an inch of length to an el of wide Heeres much in office for a little pay. A gloue God wot. I sister, so they say, go to ye wanton you He that shall marry thee, is matcht y'faith, To English rash, or to a Dutch snap-haunce, You will strike fire with words— Who I? now as I liue sweet Moll. If Filbon marry me, as by this light. And wincke. Tis hard to iuggle with the diuell, we maides So simper in each others quantity As we know fashion ere it be deuiz'd Forsweare you one, and Ile forsweare— The other, iust euen so, Shall I be plaine with thee— Youle answere, no I. Tab. No I. Mary. I no. I know you will not, therefore let him go; I loue my Filbon as men loue good clothes, Put them on euery day. And I loue Toures as I loue my sleepe, Embracing thus, folding most deerely.