Englishmen for My Money, or A Woman Will Have Her Will · chunk 43 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 T23 Husbands, wives and jealousy · 474 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T23: wife, husband, cuckold, jealousy, woman, jealous, mistress, love, house, honest.
A bed at your house? tell me I am mad, Did not I let her in adores myself, Spoke to her, talked with her, and canvased with her; And yet she lay not here? What say you sirrah? She did, she did; I brought her to her Chamber. I say he lies (that sayth so) in his throat. Mass now I remember me, I lie indeed. Oh how this frets me: Frisco, what say you? What say I? Marry I say, if she lay not here, there was a familiar in her likeness; for I am sure my Master and she were so familiar together, that he had almost shot the Gout out of his Toes ends, to make the Wench believe he had one trick of youth in him. Yet now I remember me she did not lie here; and the reason is, because she doth lie here, and is now a-bed with mistress Mathea; witness whereof, I have set to my Hand & Seal, and mean presently to fetch her. Do so Frisco. Gentlemen and Friends, Now shall you see how I am wronged by him. Lay she not here? I think the world's grown wise, Plain folks (as I) shall not know how to live. she comes, she comes: a Hall, a Hall. Nay blush not wench, fear not, look cheerfully. Good morrow Father; Good morrow Gentlemen: Nay stare not, look you here, no monster I, But even plain Ned: and here stands Matt. Wife. Know you her Frenchman? But she knows me better. Father, pray Father, let me have your blessing, For I have blessed you with a goodly Son; 'tis breeding here i'fath, a jolly Boy. I am undone, a reprobate, a slave; A scorn, a laughter, and a jesting stock: Give me my Child, give me my Daughter from you. Master Pisaro, 'tis in vain to fret, And fume, and storm, it little now avails: These Gentlemen have with your daughter's help, Outstripped you in your subtle enterprises: And therefore, seeing they are well descended, Turn hate to love, and let them have their Loves, Is it even so; why then I see that still, Do what we can, Women will have their Will. Gentlemen, you have outreached me now, Which near before you, any yet could do: You, that I thought should be my Sons indeed, Must be content, since there's no hope to speed: Others have got, what you did think to gain; And yet believe me, they have took some pain. Well, take them, there; and with them, God give joy. And Gentlemen, I do entreat tomorrow, That you will Feast with me, for all this sorrow: Though you are wedded, yet the Feast's not made: Come let us in, for all the storms are past, And heaps of joy will follow on as fast.
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)
A bed at your houſe? tell me I am madd, Did not I let her in adores my ſelfe, Spoke to her, talk'd with her, and canuaſt with her; And yet ſhe lay not heere? What ſay you ſirra? She did, ſhe did; I brought her to her Chamber. I ſay he lyes (that ſayth ſo) in his throat. Maſſe now I remember me, I lye indeed. Oh how this frets mee: Friſco, what ſay you? What ſay I? Marry I ſay, if ſhee lay not heere, there was a familiar in her likeneſſe; for I am ſure my Maiſter and ſhe were ſo familiar togeather, that he had almoſt ſhot the Gout out of his Toes endes, to make the Wench beleeue he had one tricke of youth in him. Yet now I remember mee ſhee did not lye heere; and the reaſon is, becauſe ſhee doth lye heere, and is now abed with miſtris Mathea; witneſſe whereof, I haue ſet to my Hand & Seale, and meane preſently to fetch her. Doe ſo Friſco. Gentlemen and Friends, Now ſhall you ſee how I am wrong'd by him. Lay ſhee not heere? I thinke the world's growne wiſe, Plaine folkes (as I) ſhall not know how to liue. Shee comes, ſhee comes: a Hall, a Hall. Nay bluſh not wench, feare not, looke chearfully. Good morrow Father; Good morrow Gentlemen: Nay ſtare not, looke you heere, no monſter I, But euen plaine Ned: and heere ſtands Matt my Wife. Know you her Frenchman? But ſhe knowes me better. Father, pray Father, let mee haue your bleſsing, For I haue bleſt you with a goodly Sonne; Tis breeding heere yfayth, a iolly Boy. I am vndone, a reprobate, a ſlaue; A ſcorne, a laughter, and a ieſting ſtocke: Giue mee my Child, giue mee my Daughter from you. Maiſter Piſaro, tis in vaine to fret, And fume, and ſtorme, it little now auayles: Theſe Gentlemen haue with your Daughters helpe, Outſtript you in your ſubtile enterpriſes: And therefore, ſeeing they are well deſcended, Turne hate to loue, and let them haue their Loues, Is it euen ſo; why then I ſee that ſtill, Doe what we can, Women will haue their Will. Gentlemen, you haue outreacht mee now, Which nere before you, any yet could doe: You, that I thought ſhould be my Sonnes indeed, Muſt be content, ſince there's no hope to ſpeed: Others haue got, what you did thinke to gaine; And yet beleeue mee, they haue tooke ſome paine. Well, take them, there; and with them, God giue ioy. And Gentlemen, I doe intreat to morrow, That you will Feaſte with mee, for all this ſorrow: Though you are wedded, yet the Feaſt's not made: Come let vs in, for all the ſtormes are paſt, And heapes of ioy will follow on as faſt.