Barry, Lording · published 1611 · first performed or written 1608 [1608-1610(?)] (Annals) comedy · Children of the King's Revels unassigned nearest T45 Widows, wooing and remarriage · 487 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T45: widow, widows, hoord, master, gentlemen, wife, randalls, wit, mistress, married.
What's here to do? is all the world in arms? More tumults, brawls, and insurrections, Is blood the Theme whereon our time must treat. here's Beard your Butler: a rescue Beard; draw, Draw? not so: my blade's as ominously drawn Unto the death of nine or ten such grooms, As is a knife unsheathed with the hungry maw, Threatening the ruin of a chine of Beef: But for the restless toil it took of late, My blade shall sleep awhile. Help. Stop thee Throat And hear me speak, whose bloody Characters, Will show I have been scuffling: briefly thus, Thy wife, your daughter, and your lovely Niece, Is hurried now to Fleetstreet, the damned crew With glaives and clubs have rapt her from these arms, Throat thou art bobbed, although thou boughtest the heir, Yet hath the slave made a re-entry. Sirrah what are you? My Lady's Butler sir. Not I by heaven. By this good light he swore it, And for your daughter's love he ran away. By love I gulled thee Throat. More knavery yet, Lay hands on him, pinion them both, And guard them hence towards Fleetstreet, come away, Must we be led like thieves, and pinioned walk, Spent I my blood for this? is this my hire? Why then burn rage, set Beard and nose on fire. On, on I say. justice, the law shall firk you. On this one hour depends my hopes and fortunes, Foot I must have this widow: what should my Dad Make with a wife, that scarce can wipe his nose, Untruss his points, or hold a Chamber-pot, Steady till a pisses: The doors are fast, 'Tis now the midst of night; yet shall this chain, Procure access and conference with the widow: What though I cheat my father, all men have sins, Though in their several kinds, all ends in this, So they get gold, they care not whose it is. Begging the Court, use bears the City out, Lawyers their quirks, thus goes the world about, So that our villainies have but different shapes, Th'effects all one, and poor men are but Apes, To imitate their betters, this is the difference, All great men's sins must still be humoured, And poor men's vices largely punished, The privilege that great men have in evil, Is this, they go unpunished to the Devil Therefore I'll in, this chain I know will move, Gold and rich stones, wins coyest lady's love. What would you sir, that you do knock so boldly. I must come in to the widow. How come in, The widow has no entrance for such mates. Dost here sweet Chambermaid, by heaven I come, With letters from my father, I have brought her stones, jewels and chains, which she must use tomorrow. You're a needy knave, and will lie: Your father has cashiered you, nor will a trust you, begone, lest I do wash you hence.
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: T40 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
What's heere to do? is all the world in armes? More tumults, brawles, and insurrections, Is bloud the Theame whereon our time must treate. Heer's Beard your Butler: a rescue Beard; draw, Draw? not so: my Blad's as ominously drawne Vnto the death of nine or ten such groomes, As is a knife vnsheath'd with the hungry maw, Threatning the ruine of a chine of Beefe: But for the restlesse toile it tooke of late, My blade shall sleep awhile. Helpe. Stop thee Throate And heare me speake, whose bloody Characters, Will shew I haue beene scuffling: briefly thus, Thy wife, your daughter, and your louely Neece, Is hurri'd now to Fleet-streete, the damn'd crew With glaues and clubs haue rapt her from these armes, Throate thou art bobd, although thou boughtst the heyre, Yet hath the slaue made a re-entry. Sirra what are you? My Ladies Butler sir. Not I by heauen. By this good light he swore it, And for your daughters loue he ran away. By loue I guld thee Throte. More knauery yet, Lay hands on him, pinion them both, And guarde them hence towards Fleet-streete, come away, Must we be led like theeues, and pinniond walke, Spent I my bloud for this? is this my hyre? Why then burne rage, set Beard and nose on fire. On, on I say. Iustice, the law shall sirke you. On this one houre depends my hopes and fortunes, Foote I must haue this widdow: what should my Dad Make with a wife, that scarce can wipe his nose, Vntrusse his points, or hold a Chamber-pot, Steddy till a pisses: The doores are fast, 'Tis now the midst of night; yet shall this chaine, Procure accesse and conference with the widdow: What though I cheate my father, all men haue sinnes, Though in their seuerall kinds, all ends in this, So they get gold, they care not whose it is. Begging the Court, vse beares the Cittie out, Lawyers their quirkes, thus goes the world about, So that our villanies haue but different shapes, Th'effects all one, and poore men are but Apes, To imitate their betters, this is the difference, All great mens sinnes must still be humored, And poore mens vices largely punished, The priuiledge that great men haue in euill, Is this, they go vnpunisht to the Diuell Therefore Ile in, this chaine I know will mooue, Gold and rich stones, wins coyest ladies loue. What would you sir, that you do knock so boldly. I must come in to the widdow. How come in, The widdow has no entrance for such mates. Doost heere sweet Chamber-maid, by heauen I come, With letters from my father, I haue brought her stones, Iewels and chaines, which she must vse to morrow. Y'are a needy knaue, and will lye: Your father has casheerd you, nor will a trust you, Begon, least I doe wash you hence.