Englishmen for My Money, or A Woman Will Have Her Will · chunk 42 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 T28 Marriage-making: weddings, brides and ma · 495 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T28: married, marriage, wedding, day, bride, father, wife, luce, love, husband.
He tells you true, Laurentia is my Wife; Who knowing that her Sisters must be wed; Presuming also, that you'll bid her welcome, Are come to bear them company to Church. You come too late, the Marriage rites are done: Yet welcome twentyfold unto the Feast. How say you sirs, did not I tell you true, These Wenches would have us, and none of you. I cannot say for these; but on my life, This loves a Cushion better than a Wife. And reason too, that Cushion fell out right, Else hard had been his lodging all last night. Master Pisaro, why stand you speechless thus? Anger, and extreme grief enforceth me. Pray sir, who bade you meet me at the Tower? Who sir; your man sir, Mowche; here he is. Who I sir, mean you me? you are a jesting man. Thou art a Villain, a dissembling Wretch, Worse than Anthony whom I kept last: Fetch me an Officer, I'll hamper you, And make you sing at Bridewell for this trick: For well he hath deserved it, that would swear He went not forth a doors at my appointment. So swear I still, I went not forth today. Why arrant liar, wert thou not with me? How say you master brown, went he not forth? He, or his likeness did, I know not whether. What likeness can there be besides himself? myself (forsooth) that took his shape upon me, I was that Mowche that you sent from home: And that same Mowche that deceived you, Effected to possess this Gentleman: Which to attain, I thus be guiled you all. This is excellent, this is as fine as a Fiddle: you M. Heigham got the Wench in Mowches apparel; now let Mowche put on her apparel, and be married to the Dutchman: How think you, is it not a good vice? Master Pisaro, shake off melancholy, When things are helpless, patience must be used. Talk of Patience? I'll not bear these wrongs: Go call down Matt. and mistress Susan Moore, 'tis well that of all three, we have one sure. Mistress Susan Moore, who do you mean sir? Whom should I mean sir, but your Daughter? You're very pleasant sir: but tell me this, When did you see her, that you speak of her? ay, late yesternight, when she came here to bed. You are deceived, my Daughter lay not here, But watched with her sick mother all last night. I am glad you are so pleasant M Moore, You're loath that Susan should be held a sluggard: What man, 'twas late before she went to bed, And therefore time enough to rise again. Master Pisaro, do you flout your friends; I well perceive if I had troubled you, I should have had it in my dish ere now: Susan lie here? 'am sure when I came forth, I left her fast asleep in bed at home; 'tis more than neighbourhood to use me thus.
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)
He tels you true, Laurentia is my Wife; Who knowing that her Siſters muſt be wed; Preſuming alſo, that you'le bid her welcome, Are come to beare them company to Church. You come too late, the Mariage rites are done: Yet welcome twenty-fold vnto the Feaſt. How ſay you ſirs, did not I tell you true, Theſe Wenches would haue vs, and none of you. I cannot ſay for theſe; but on my life, This loues a Cusſhion better then a Wife. And reaſon too, that Cusſhion fell out right, Elſe hard had been his lodging all laſt night. Maiſter Piſaro, why ſtand you ſpeachleſſe thus? Anger, and extreame griefe enforceth mee. Pray ſir, who bade you meete mee at the Tower? Who ſir; your man ſir, Mowche; here he is. Who I ſir, meane you mee? you are a ieſting man. Thou art a Villaine, a diſſembling Wretch, Worſer then Anthony whom I kept laſt: Fetch me an Officer, Ile hamper you, And make you ſing at Bride-well for this tricke: For well he hath deſerude it, that would ſweare He went not foorth a dores at my appoyntment. So ſweare I ſtill, I went not foorth to day. Why arrant lyer, wert thou not with mee? How ſay you maiſter Browne, went he not foorth? Hee, or his likeneſſe did, I know not whether. What likeneſſe can there be beſides himſelfe? My ſelfe (forſooth) that tooke his ſhape vpon me, I was that Mowche that you ſent from home: And that ſame Mowche that deceiued you, Effected to poſſeſſe this Gentleman: Which to attaine, I thus be guil'd you all. This is excellent, this is as fine as a Fiddle: you M. Heigham got the Wench in Mowches apparell; now let Mowche put on her apparell, and be married to the Dutchman: How thinke you, is it not a good vize? Maiſter Piſaro, ſhake off melancholy, When thinges are helpeleſſe, patience muſt be vſ'd. Talke of Patience? Ile not beare theſe wronges: Goe call downe Matt, and miſtris Suſan Moore, Tis well that of all three, wee haue one ſure. Miſtris Suſan Moore, who doe you meane ſir? Whom ſhould I meane ſir, but your Daughter? You'r very pleaſant ſir: but tell me this, When did you ſee her, that you ſpeake of her? I, late yeſter-night, when ſhe came heere to bed. You are deceiu'd, my Daughter lay not heere, But watch'd with her ſicke mother all laſt night. I am glad you are ſo pleaſant M Moore, You'r loth that Suſan ſhould be held a ſluggard: What man, t'was late before ſhe went to bed, And therefore time enough to riſe againe. Maiſter Piſaro, doe you floute your friends; I well perceiue if I had troubled you, I ſhould haue had it in my diſh ere now: Suſan lie heere? 'am ſure when I came foorth, I left her faſt aſleepe in bed at home; Tis more then neighbour-hood to vſe me thus.