The Roaring Girl, or Moll Cutpurse · chunk 22 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 · 490 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T23: wife, husband, cuckold, jealousy, woman, jealous, mistress, love, house, honest.
Nay, nay, wife, the women are all up, ha, how, reading a letters? I smell a goose, a couple of capons, and a gammon of bacon from her mother out of the country, I hold my life,— steal,— O beshrew your heart. What letter's that? I'll see't. Oh would thou hadst no eyes to see the downfall of me and thyself: I'm for ever, for ever I'm undone. What ails my Pru? what paper's that thou tearest? Would I could tear My very heart in pieces: for my soul Lies on the rack of shame, that tortures me Beyond a woman's suffering. What means this? Had you no other vengeance to throw down, But even in height of all my joys? Dear woman. When the full sea of pleasure and content seemed to flow over me. As thou desirest to keep me out of bedlam, tell what troubles thee, is not thy child at nurse fallen sick, or dead? Oh no. heavens bless me, are my barns and houses Yonder at Hockly hole consumed with fire, I can build more, sweet Pru. 'tis worse, 'tis worse. My factor broke, or is the Ionas sunk. Would all we had were swallowed in the waves, Rather than both should be the scorn of slaves. I'm at my wit's end. Oh my dear husband, Where once I thought myself a fixed star, Placed only in the heaven of thine arms, I fear now I shall prove a wanderer, Oh Laxton, Laxton, is it then my fate To be by thee o'erthrown? Defend me wisdom, From falling into frenzy, on my knees. (thy bosom. Sweet Pru, speak, what's that Laxton who so heavy lies on I shall sure run mad. I shall run mad for company then: speak to me, I'm Gallipot thy husband,— Pru,— Art sick in conscience for some villainous deed Thou wert about to act, didst mean to rob me, Tush I forgive thee, hast thou on my bed Thrust my soft pillow under another's head? I'll wink at all faults Pru, 'las that's no more, Then what some neighbours near thee, have done before, Sweet honey Pru, what's that Laxton? Oh. Out with him. Oh he's borne to be my undoer, This hand which thou call'st thine, to him was given, To him was I made sure i'th' sight of heaven. I never heard this thunder. Yes, yes, before I was to thee contracted, to him I swore, Since last I saw him twelve months three times told, The Moon hath drawn through her light silver bow, For o'er the seas he went, and it was said, (But Rumor lies) that he in France was dead. But he's alive, oh he's alive, he sent, That letter to me, which in rage I rent, Swearing with oaths most damnably to have me, Or tear me from this bosom, oh heavens save me, My heart will break,— shamed and undone for ever.
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)
Nay, nay, wife, the women are all vp, ha, how, reading a letters? I smel a goose, a couple of capons, and a gammon of bacon from her mother out of the country, I hold my life,—steale,—steale. O beshrow your heart. What letter's that? I'le see't. Oh would thou had'st no eyes to see the downefall of me and thy selfe: I'me for euer, for euer I'me vndone. What ailes my Pru? what paper's that thou tear'st? Would I could teare My very heart in peeces: for my soule Lies on the racke of shame, that tortures me Beyond a womans suffering. What meanes this? Had you no other vengeance to throw downe, But euen in heigth of all my ioyes? Deere woman. When the full sea of pleasure and content seem'd to flow ouer me. As thou desirest to keepe mee out of bedlam, tell what troubles thee, is not thy child at nurse falne sicke, or dead? Oh no. Heauens blesse me, are my barnes and houses Yonder at Hockly hole consum'd with fire, I can build more, sweete Pru. Tis worse, tis worse. My factor broke, or is the Ionas suncke. Would all we had were swallowed in the waues, Rather then both should be the scorne of slaues. I'me at my wits end. Oh my deere husband, Where once I thought my selfe a fixed starre, Plac't onely in the heauen of thine armes, I feare now I shall proue a wanderer, Oh Laxton, Laxton, is it then my fate To be by thee orethrowne? Defend me wisedome, From falling into frenzie, on my knees. (thy bosome. Sweete Pru, speake, whats that Laxton who so heauy lyes on I shall sure run mad. I shall run mad for company then: speak to me, I'me Gallipot thy husband,—Pru,—why Pru. Art sicke in conscience for some villanous deed Thou wert about to act, didst meane to rob me, Tush I forgiue thee, hast thou on my bed Thrust my soft pillow vnder anothers head? Ile winke at all faults Pru, las thats no more, Then what some neighbours neere thee, haue done before, Sweete hony Pru, whats that Laxton? Oh. Out with him. Oh hee's borne to be my vndoer, This hand which thou calst thine, to him was giuen, To him was I made sure ith sight of heauen. I neuer heard this thunder. Yes, yes, before I was to thee contracted, to him I swore, Since last I saw him twelue moneths three times told, The Moone hath drawne through her light siluer bow, For ore the seas hee went, and it was said, (But Rumor lyes) that he in France was dead. But hee's aliue, oh hee's aliue, he sent, That letter to me, which in rage I rent, Swearing with oathes most damnably to haue me, Or teare me from this bosome, oh heauens saue me, My heart will breake,—sham'd and vndone for euer.