The Roaring Girl, or Moll Cutpurse · chunk 19 of 47
Dekker, Thomas / Middleton, Thomas · published 1611 · first performed or written 1611 (Annals) comedy · Prince Henry's Men · Fortune unassigned nearest T23 Husbands, wives and jealousy · 512 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T23: wife, husband, cuckold, jealousy, woman, jealous, mistress, love, house, honest.
To teach thy base thoughts manners: thouart one of those That thinks each woman thy fond flexible whore, If she but cast a liberal eye upon thee, Turn back her head, she's thine, or amongst company, By chance drink first to thee: then she's quite gone, There's no means to help her: nay for a need, Wilt swear unto thy credulous fellow lechers. That thouart more in favour with a Lady at first sight Then her monkey all her life time, How many of our sex, by such as thou Have their good thoughts paid with a blasted name That never deserved loosely or did trip In path of whoredom, beyond cup and lip. But for the stain of conscience and of soul, Better had women fall into the hands Of an act silent, than a bragging nothing, There's no mercy in't— what durst move you sir, To think me whorish? a name which I'd tear out From the high Germans throat, if it lay ledger there To dispatch privy slanders against me. In thee I defy all men, there worst hates, And their best flatteries, all their golden witchcrafts, With which they entangle the poor spirits of fools, Distressed needlewomen and trade-fallen wives. Fish that must needs bite, or themselves be bitten, Such hungry things as these may soon be took With a worm fastened on a golden hook. Those are the lechers food, his prey, he watches For quarreling wedlocks, and poor shifting sisters, 'tis the best fish he takes: but why good fisherman, Am I thought meat for you, that never yet Had angling rod cast towards me? 'cause you'll say I'm given to sport, I'm often merry, jest, Had mirth no kindred in the world but lust? O shame take all her friends then: but howe'er Thou and the baser world censure my life, I'll send 'em word by thee, and write so much Upon thy breast, cause thou shalt bear't in mind, Tell them 'twere base to yield, where I have conquered. I scorn to prostitute myself to a man, I that can prostitute a man to me, And so I greet thee. Hear me. Would the spirits of all my slanders, were clasped in thine. That I might vex an army at one time, I do repent me, hold, You'll die the better Christian then. I do confess I have wronged thee Moll. Confession is but poor amends for wrong, Unless a rope would follow. I ask thee pardon. I'm your hired whore fir. I yield both purse and body. Both are mine, and now at my disposing. Spare my life. I scorn to strike thee basely. Spoke like a noble girl i'faith. Heart I think I fight with a familiar, or the Ghost of a fencer, Sh'has wounded me gallantly, call you this a lecherous voyage? Here's blood would have served me this seven year in broken heads and cut fingers, & it now runs all out together, pox athe three pigeons, I would the coach were here now to carry me to the Chirurgeons.
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)
To teach thy base thoughts manners: th'art one of those That thinkes each woman thy fond flexable whore, If she but cast a liberall eye vpon thee, Turne backe her head, shees thine, or amongst company, By chance drinke first to thee: then shee's quite gon, There's no meanes to help her: nay for a need, Wilt sweare vnto thy credulous fellow letchers. That th'art more in fauour with a Lady at first sight Then her monky all her life time, How many of our sex, by such as thou Haue their good thoughts paid with a blasted name That neuer deserued loosly or did trip In path of whooredome, beyond cup and lip. But for the staine of conscience and of soule, Better had women fall into the hands Of an act silent, then a bragging nothing, There's no mercy in't—what durst moue you sir, To think me whoorish? a name which Ide teare out From the hye Germaines throat, if it lay ledger there To dispatch priuy slanders against mee. In thee I defye all men, there worst hates, And their best flatteries, all their golden witchcrafts, With which they intangle the poore spirits of fooles, Distressed needlewomen and trade-fallne wiues. Fish that must needs bite, or themselues be bitten, Such hungry things as these may soone be tooke With a worme fastned on a golden hooke. Those are the letchers food, his prey, he watches For quarrelling wedlockes, and poore shifting sisters, Tis the best fish he takes: but why good fisherman, Am I thought meate for you, that neuer yet Had angling rod cast towards me? cause youl'e say I'me giuen to sport, I'me often mery, iest, Had mirth no kindred in the world but lust? O shame take all her friends then: but how ere Thou and the baser world censure my life, Ile send 'em word by thee, and write so much Vpon thy breast, cause thou shalt bear't in mind, Tell them 'twere base to yeeld, where I haue conquer'd. I scorne to prostitute my selfe to a man, I that can prostitue a man to mee, And so I greete thee. Heare me. Would the spirits of al my slanders, were claspt in thine. That I might vexe an army at one time, I do repent me, hold, You'l die the better Christian then. I do confesse I haue wrong'd thee Mol. Confession is but poore amends for wrong, Vnlesse a rope would follow. I aske thee pardon. I'me your hir'd whoore fir. I yeeld both purse and body. Both are mine, and now at my disposing. Spare my life. I scorne to strike thee basely. Spoke like a noble girle i'faith. Heart I thinke I fight with a familiar, or the Ghost of a fencer, Sh'has wounded me gallantly, call you this a letcherous viage? Here's bloud would haue seru'd me this seuen yeare in broken heads and cut fingers, & it now runs all out together, pox athe three pigions, I would the coach were here now to carry mee to the Chirurgions.