The Atheist's Tragedy, or The Honest Man's Revenge · chunk 9 of 41
Tourneur, Cyril · published 1611 · first performed or written 1611 [1607-1611] (Annals) tragedy · Unknown unassigned nearest T23 Husbands, wives and jealousy · 498 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T23: wife, husband, cuckold, jealousy, woman, jealous, mistress, love, house, honest.
A rape, a rape, a rape! How now? What's that? Why what is't but a Rape to force a wench to marry, since it forces her to lie with him she would not? Verily, his Tongue is an unsanctified member. Verily, your gravity becomes your perished soul, as hoary mouldiness does rotten fruit. Cousin, you're both uncivil and profane. Thou disobedient villain; get thee out of my sight. Now by my Soul I'll plague thee for this rudeness. Come; set forward to the Church. And verify the Proverb. The nearer the Church; the further from God.— Poor wench. For thy sake, may his ability die in his appetite; that thou be'st not troubled with him thou lovest not. May his appetite move thy desire to another man: so he shall help to make himself Cuckold. And let that man be one that he pays wages too: so thou shalt profit by him thou hatest. Let the Chambers be matted, the hinges oiled, the curtain rings silenced, and the chambermaid hold her peace at his own request, that he may sleep the quietlier. And in that sleep let him be soundly cuckolded. And when he knows it, and seeks to sue a divorce; let him have no other satisfaction than this: He lay by and slept: the Law will take no hold of her, because he winked at it. mistress Cataplasma! I expected you an hour since. Certain Ladies at my house (madam) detained me; otherwise I had attended your Ladyship sooner. we are beholding to you for you company. My Lord; I pray you bid these Gentlewomen welcome: theyare my invited friends. Gentlewomen, you're welcome, pray sit down. Frisco! by my Lord D'amville's leave I prithee go into the Buttery. Thou shalt find some o'my men there; if they bid thee not welcome, they are very Loggerheads. If your Loggerheads will not, your Hogsheads shall madam, if I get into the Buttery. That fellows disposition to mirth should be our present example. Let's be grave and meditate, when our affairs require our seriousness. 'tis out of season to be heavily disposed. We should be all wound up into the key of Mirth. The Music there. Where's my Lord Montferrers? Tell him here's a room attends him. Heaven give your marriage that I am deprived of, joy. My Lord Belforest! Castabella's health. Set open' the cellar doors, and let this health go freely round the house.— Another to your Son, my Lord; To noble Charlemont. He is a Soldier. Let the Instruments of wary congratulate his memory.— My Lord, here's one i'th' habit of a Soldier says he is newly returned from Ostend, and has some business of import to speak. Ostend! let him come in. My soul foretells he brings the news will make our Music full. My brother's joy would do't: and here comes he will raise it. O my spirit, it does dissuade my tongue to question him, as if it knew his answer would displease.
seed 43: T26 · seed 44: T28 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
A rape, a rape, a rape! How now? What's that? Why what is't but a Rape to force a wench to marry, since it forces her to lie with him she would not? Verily, his Tongue is an vnsanctified member. Verily, your grauitie becomes your perish'd soule, as hoary mouldinesse does rotten fruit. Couzen, y'are both vnciuill and prophane. Thou disobedient villaine; get thee out of my sight. Now by my Soule Ile plague thee for this rudenesse. Come; set forward to the Church. And verifie the Prouerbe. The nearer the Church; the further from God.—Poore wench. For thy sake, may his habilitie die in his appetite; that thou beest not troubled with him thou louest not. May his appetite moue thy desire to another man: so hee shall helpe to make himselfe Cuckold. And let that man be one that he payes wages too: so thou shalt profit by him thou hatest. Let the Chambers be matted, the hinges oyl'd, the curtaine rings silenced, and the chamber-maid hold her peace at his owne request, that he may sleepe the quietlier. And in that sleepe let him be soundly cuckolded. And when hee knowes it, and seekes to sue a diuorce; let him haue no other satisfaction then this: Hee lay by and slept: the Law will take no hold of her, because he wink'd at it. MIstresse Cataplasma! I expected you an houre since. Certaine Ladies at my house (Madame) detain'd mee; otherwise I had attended your Ladiship sooner. Wee are beholding to you for you companie. My Lord; I pray you bid these Gentlewomen welcome: th'are my inuited friends. Gentlewomen, y'are welcome, pray sit downe. Frisco! by my Lord D'amville's leaue I prith goe into the Buttry. Thou sha't finde some o'my men there; if they bid thee not welcome, they are very Loggerheads. If your Logger heads will not, your Hoggesheads shall Madame, if I get into the Buttry. That fellowes disposition to mirth should be our present example. Let's be graue and meditate, when our affaires require our seriousnes. T'is out of season to be heauily disposed. We should be all wound vp into the key of Mirth. The Musicke there. Where's my Lord Montferrers? Tell him here's a roome attends him. Heauen giue your marriage that I am depriu'd of, ioy. My Lord Belforest! Castabella's health. Set ope' the Sellar dores, and let this health goe freely round the house.—Another to your Sonne, my Lord; To noble Charl. mont. Hee is a Souldier. Let the Instruments of warie congratulate his memorie.— My Lord, here's one i'th'habite of a Souldier saies hee is newly return'd from Ostend, and has some businesse of import to speake. Ostend! let him come in. My soule fore-tels hee brings the newes will make our Musicke full. My brothers ioy would doe't: and here comes hee will raise it. O my spirit, it does disswade my tongue to question him, as if it knew his answere would displease.