Englishmen for My Money, or A Woman Will Have Her Will · chunk 31 of 43
Haughton, William · published 1616 · first performed or written 1598 [Feb 18-May 9, payment] (Annals) comedy · Admiral's (Nottingham's) Men unassigned nearest T49 Wooing a mistress: suitors, go-betweens · 519 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T49: mistress, gentleman, love, lady, woman, pray, gentlewoman, hear, honest, way.
That voice assures me, that it is my Love: Say truly, Art thou my Ned? art thou my Love? 'swounds who should I be but Ned? You make me swear. Who speak you to? Mathea who's below? Marina. Young master Haruy? for that voice saith so. Speak sister Matt. is not my true Love there? Ned is. Not master Heigham? Laurentia, here. i'fath thou'rt welcome. Better cannot Fall. Sweet, so art thou. As much to mine. Nay Gentles, welcome all. Here's cunning harlotries, they feed these off With welcome, and kind words, whilst other Lads. Revel in that delight they should possess: Good Girls, I promise you I like you well. Say master Haruy, saw you, as you came, That lecher, which my Sire appoints my man; I mean that wanton base Italian, That Spanish-leather spruce companion: That antic Ape tricked up in fashion? Had the Ass come, I'd learn him, difference been Betwixt an English Gentleman and him. How would you use him. (sweet). If he should come? Nay nothing (sweet) but only wash his crown: Why the Ass woos in such an amorous key, That he presumes no Wench should say him nay: He slavers not his Fingers, wipes his Bill, And swears in faith you shall, in faith I will; That I am almost mad to bide his wooing. Look what he said in word, I'll act in doing. Leave thought of him, for day steals on apace, And to our Loves: Will you perform your words; All things are ready, and the Parson stands, 'To join as hearts in hearts, our hands in hands, Night favours us, the thing is quickly done, Then truss up bag and Baggages, and be gone: And ere the morning, to augment your joys, we'll make you mothers of six goodly Boys. Promise them three good Ned, and say no more. But I'll get three, and if I get not four. There's a sound Card at Maw, a lusty lad, Your father thought him well, when one he had, What say you sweets, will you perform your words? Love to true love, no lesser meed affords? we say we love you, and that loves fair breath Shall lead us with you round about the Earth: And that our loves, vows, words, may all prove true, Prepare your Arms, for thus we fly to you. This works like wax, now ere tomorrow day, If you two ply it but as well as I, we'll work our lands out of Pisaro's Daughters: And can sell all our bonds in their great Bellies, When the slave knows it, how the Rogue will curse. Sweet heart. Matt. Where art thou. Here. Oh Iesus here's our father. The Devil he is. Master Pisaro, twenty times God morrow. Good morrow? now I tell you Gentlemen, You wrong and move my patience overmuch, What will you Rob me, Kill me, Cut my Throat: And set mine own blood here against me too, You housewives? Baggages? or what is worse, Wilful, stubborn, disobedient: Use it not Gentlemen, abuse me not, Newgate hath room, there's law enough in England,
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)
That voyce aſſures mee, that it is my Loue: Say truly, Art thou my Ned? art thou my Loue? Swounds who ſhould I be but Ned? You make me ſweare. Who ſpeake you to? Mathea who's below? Marina. Young maiſter Haruy? for that voyce ſaith ſo. Speake ſiſter Matt, is not my true Loue there? Ned is. Not maiſter Heigham? Laurentia, heere. Yfayth thou'rt welcome. Better cannot Fall. Sweete, ſo art thou. As much to mine. Nay Gentles, welcome all. Here's cunning harlotries, they feed theſe off With welcome, and kind words, whilſt other Lads. Reuell in that delight they ſhould poſſeſſe: Good Girls, I promiſe you I like you well. Say maiſter Haruy, ſaw you, as you came, That Leacher, which my Sire appoynts my man; I meane that wanton baſe Italian, That Spanniſh-leather ſpruce companion: That anticke Ape trickt vp in faſhion? Had the Aſſe come, I'de learne him, difference been Betwixt an Engliſh Gentleman and him. How would you vſe him. (ſweete). If he ſhould come? Nay nothing (ſweet) but only waſh his crowne: Why the Aſſe wooes in ſuch an amorous key, That he preſumes no Wench ſhould ſay him nay: Hee ſlauers not his Fingers, wipes his Bill, And ſweares in fayth you ſhall, in fayth I will; That I am almoſt madd to bide his wocing. Looke what he ſaid in word, Ile act in doing. Leaue thought of him, for day ſteales on apace, And to our Loues: Will you performe your words; All things are ready, and the Parſon ſtands, 'To ioyne as hearts in hearts, our hands in hands, Night fauours vs, the thing is quickly done, Then truſſe vp bagg and Bagages, and be gone: And ere the morninge, to augment your ioyes, Weele make you mothers of ſixe goodly Boyes. Promiſe them three good Ned, and ſay no more. But Ile get three, and if I gette not foure. Theres a ſound Carde at Maw, a luſtie lad, Your father thought him well, when one he had, What ſay you ſweetes, will you performe your wordes? Loue to true loue, no leſſer meede affordes? Wee ſay we loue you, and that loues fayre breath Shall lead vs with you round about the Earth: And that our loues, vowes, wordes, may all proue true, Prepare your Armes, for thus we flie to you. This workes like waxe, now ere to morrow day, If you two ply it but as well as I, Weele worke our landes out of Piſaros Daughters: And canſell all our bondes in their great Bellies, When the ſlaue knowes it, how the Roge will curſe. Sweete hart. Matt. Where art thou. Here. Oh Ieſus heres our father. The Diuell he is. Maiſter Piſaro, twenty times God morrow▪ Good morrow? now I tell you Gentlemn, You wrong and moue my patience ouermuch, What will you Rob me, Kill me, Cutte my Throte: And ſet mine owne bloud here againſt me too, You huſwifes? Baggages? or what is worſe, Wilfull, ſtoubborne, diſobedient: Vſe it not Gentlemen, abuſe me not, Newgate hath rome, theres law enough in England,