Field, Nathan · published 1612 · first performed or written 1609 [1609-1610] (Annals) comedy · Children of the Queens Revels (Children of the Whitefriars) (?) · before the Court T28 Marriage-making: weddings, brides and ma typicality 0.78 · 539 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T28: married, marriage, wedding, day, bride, father, wife, luce, love, husband.
Father, my vow is past: whilst the Earl lives I near will Marry, nor will pine for him: It is not him I love now, but my humour. But since my Sister he hath made his choice, This wreath of Willow that begirts my brows, Shall never leave to be my Ornament Till he be dead, or I be married to him. Life my Lord, you had best marry 'em all three, They'll never be content else. I think so to. These are impossibilities; Come, Sit Abram. A little time will wear out this rash vow. Shall I but hope? Oh, by no means. I cannot endure these round Breeches, I am ready to sound at 'em. The Hose are comely. And then his left Leg: I never see it, but I think on a Plum-tree. Indeed there's reason there should be some difference in my Legs, for one cost me twenty pound more than the other. Introth both are not worth half the money. I hold my life one of them was broke, and cost so much the healing. Right hath your Lordship said, 'twas broke indeed, At football in the University. I know he is in love, by his Verse vain. He cannot hold out on't: you shall hear. Well since I am disdained; off Garters blue; Which signifies Sir Abraham's love was true. Off Cypress black, for thou befits not me; Thou art not Cypress, of the Cypress Tree, Befitting Lovers: Out green Shoestrings out, Wither in pocket, since my Luce doth pout: Gush eyes, thump hand, swell heart, Buttons fly open, Thanks gentle Doublet; else my heart had broken. Now to thy Father's Country house at Babram, Ride post; There pine and die, poor, poor Sir Abram. Oh doleful dump. Nay you shall stay the wedding, Hark the Music, Your Bride is ready. Put Spirit in your Fingers; louder still, And the vast Air with your enchantments fill. THus for my friend's sake have I taken orders, And with my reasons and some hire beside: Won the known Priest, that was to Celebrate This Marriage, to let me assume his place: And here's the Character of his face and beard. By this means, when my friend confronts the Maid, At the Church door (where I appointed him To meet him, like myself: for this strange shape He altogether is unwitting of) If she (as one Vice in that sex alone Were a great Virtue) to inconstancy past, join impudence, and sleight him to his face, Showing a resolution to this match. By this attempt it will be frustrate; And so we have more time though but till night, To work to speak with her, or use violence, (For both my blood and means are at his service.) The reason too, I do this past his knowledge, Is that his joy may be the more complete; When being resolved she's married and gone, I can resolve him otherwise: Thus I know, Good deeds show double, that are timely done, And joy that comes past expectation. Yonder he comes, dead in his melancholy: I'll question him, and see if I can raise His Spirit from that, it restless rests upon: He cannot know me. Ho, Good-morrow Sir.
seed 43: T6 · seed 44: T7 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Father, my vow is past: whilst the Earle liues I neare will Marrie, nor will pine for him: It is not him I loue now, but my humor. But since my Sister he hath made his choise, This wreath of Willow that begirts my browes, Shall neuer leaue to be my Ornament Till he be dead, or I be married to him. Life my Lord, you had best marrie em all three, Theyle neuer be content else. I thinke so to. These are impossibilities; Come, Sit Abram. A little time will weare out this rash vow. Shall I but hope? Oh, by no meanes. I cannot endure these round Breeches, I am readie to sound at em▪ The Hose are comely. And then his left Leg: I neuer see it, but I thinke on a Plum-tree. Indeed there's reason there should be some difference in my Legges, for one cost me twentie pound more then the other. Introth both are not worth halfe the mony. I hold my life one of them was broake, and cost so much the healing. Right hath your Lordship said, twas broke indeed, At footeball in the Vniuersitie. I know he is in loue, by his Verse vaine. He cannot hold out on't: you shall heare. Well since I am disdain'd; off Garters blew; VVhich signifies Sir Abrams loue was true. Off Cypresse blacke, for thou befits not me; Thou art not Cypresse, of the Cypresse Tree, Befitting Louers: Out greene Shoo-strings out, Wither in pocket, since my Luce doth pout: Gush eyes, thumpe hand, swell heart, Buttons flie open, Thankes gentle Dublet; else my heart had broken. Now to thy Fathers Countrey house at Babram, Ride post; There pine and die, poore, poore Sir Abram. Oh dolefull dumpe. Nay you shall stay the wedding, Hark the Musick, Your Btide is readie. Put Spirit in your Fingers; Lowder still, And the vast Ayre with your enchantments fill. THus for my friends sake haue I taken orders, And with my reasons and some hyre besides: VVon the knowne Priest, that was to Celebrate This Marriage, to let me assume his place: And heere's the Charracter of his face and beard. By this meanes, when my friend confronts the Maide, At the Church doore (where I appointed him To meete him, like my selfe: for this strange shape He altogether is vnwitting of) If she (as one Vice in that sex alone Were a great Vertue) to inconstancy past, Ioyne impudency, and sleight him to his face, Shewing a resolution to this match. By this attempt it will be frustrate; And so we haue more time though but till night, To worke to speake with her, or vse violence, (For both my bloud and meanes are at his seruice.) The reason too, I do this past his knowledge, Is that his ioy may be the more compleat; When being resolu'd shee's married and gone, I can resolue him otherwise: Thus I know, Good deeds shew double, that are timely done, And ioy that comes past expectation. Yonder he comes, dead in his melancholy: Ile question him, and see if I can raise His Spirit from that, it restlesse rests vpon: He cannot know me. Ho, Good-morrow Sir.