The Roaring Girl, or Moll Cutpurse · chunk 34 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 · 518 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T23: wife, husband, cuckold, jealousy, woman, jealous, mistress, love, house, honest.
Ha? yes wife strike sail, for storms are in thine theyare here sir in my brows if any rise. Ha brows? (what says she friend) pray tell me Your two flags were advanced; the Comedy, (why Come what's the Comedy? Westward hoe. How? 'Tis Westward hoe she says. Are you both mad? Is't Market day at Brainford, and your ware not sent up yet? What market day? what ware? Apy with three pigeons in't, 'tis drawn and stays your cutting up. As you regard my credit. Art mad? Yes lecherous goat; Baboon. Baboon? then toss me in a blanket, Do I it well? Rarely. Belike sir she's not well; best leave her. No, I'll stand the storm now how fierce soe'er it blow. Did I for this lose all my friends? refuse Rich hopes, and golden fortunes, to be made A stale to a common whore? This does amaze me. Oh God, oh God, feed at reversion now? A Strumpets leaving? Rosamond, I sweat, would I lay in cold harbour. Thou hast struck ten thousand daggers through my heart. Not I by heaven sweet wife. (thee Go devil go; that which thou swearest by, damns S'heart will you undo me? Why stay you here? the star, by which you sail, shines yonder above Chelsy; you lose your shore if this moon light you: seek out your light whore. Ha? Push; your Westerne png. Zounds now hell roars. With whom you tilted in a pair of oars, this very morning. Oars? At Brainford sir. Rack not my patience: Master Goshawk, some slave has buzzed this into her, has he not? I run a-tilt in Brainford with a woman? 'tis a lie: What old bawd tells thee this? 'Sdeath 'tis a lie. 'Tis one to thy face shall justify all that I speak. ud'soul do but name that rascal. No sir I will not. Keep thee there girl:— then! Sister know you this varlet? Yes. Swear true, Is there a rogue so low damned? a second Iudas? a common hangman? cutting a man's throat? does it to his face? bite me behind my back? a cur dog? swear if you know this hellhound. In truth I do, His name? Not for the world; To have you to stab him. Oh brave girls: worth Gold. A word honest master Goshawk. What do you mean sir? Keep off, and if the devil can give a name to this new fury, holla it through my ear, or wrap it up in some hid character: I'll ride to Oxford, and watch out mine eyes, but I'll hear the brazen head speak: or else show me but one hair of his head or beard, that I may sample it; if the fiend I meet (in mine own house) I'll kill him:— the street. Or at the Church door:— there— (cause he seeks to untie The knot God fastens) he deserves most to die. My husband titles him. Master Goshawk, pray sir Swear to me, that you know him or know him not, (wives, Who makes me at Brainford to take up a petticoat beside my
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)
Ha? yes wife strike saile, for stormes are in thine Th'are here sir in my browes if any rise. Ha browes? (what sayes she friend) pray tel me Your two flagges were aduaunst; the Comedy, (why Come what's the Comedy? Westward hoe. How? 'Tis Westward hoe shee saies. Are you both madde? Is't Market day at Braineford, and your ware not sent vp yet? What market day? what ware? Apy with three pidgions in't, 'tis drawne and staies your cutting vp. As you regard my credit. Art madde? Yes letcherous goate; Baboone. Baboone? then tosse mee in a blancket, Do I it well? Rarely. Belike sir shee's not well; best leaue her. No, I'le stand the storme now how fierce so ere it blow. Did I for this loose all my friends? refuse Rich hopes, and golden fortunes, to be made A stale to a common whore? This does amaze mee. Oh God, oh God, feede at reuersion now? A Strumpets leauing? Rosamond, I sweate, wo'ld I lay in cold harbour. Thou hast struck ten thousand daggers through my heart. Not I by heauen sweete wife. (thee Go diuel go; that which thou swear'st by, damnes S'heart will you vndo mee? Why stay you heere? the starre, by which you saile, shines yonder aboue Chelsy; you loose your shore if this moone light you: seeke out your light whore. Ha? Push; your Westerne png. Zounds now hell roares. With whom you tilted in a paire of oares, this very morning. Oares? At Brainford sir. Racke not my patieuce: Maister Goshawke, some slaue has buzzed this into her, has he not? I run a tilt in Brainford with a woman? 'tis a lie: What old baud tels thee this? S'death 'tis a lie. 'Tis one to thy face shall iustify all that I speake. Vd'soule do but name that rascall. No sir I will not. Keepe thee there girle:—then! Sister know you this varlet? Yes. Sweare true, Is there a rogueso low damn'd? a second Iudas? a common hangman? cutting a mans throate? does it to his face? bite mee behind my backe? a cur dog? sweare if you know this hell-hound. In truth I do, His name? Not for the world; To haue you to stab him. Oh braue girles: worth Gold. A word honest maister Goshawke. What do you meane sir? Keepe off, and if the diuell can giue a name to this new fury, holla it throngh my eare, or wrap it vp in some hid character: I'le ride to Oxford, and watch out mine eies, but I'leheare the brazen head speak: or else shew me but one haire of his head or beard, that I may sample it; if the siend I mect (in myne owne house) I'le kill him:—the streete. Or at the Church dore:—there—(cause he seekes to vnty The knot God fastens) he deserues most to dy. My husband titles him. Maister Goshawke, pray sir Sweare to me, that you know him or know hiw not, (wiues, Who makes me at Brainford to take vp a peticote beside my