S., S. · published 1616 · first performed or written 1615 [c.1614-1615] (Annals) comedy · Queen Anne's Men unassigned nearest T6 Money, debt and credit · 485 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T6: money, master, pound, law, lawyer, chain, gentleman, gold, pay, pray.
Vast. Lost, lost; as sure as Virginity; no sooner laid than lost. Come then to pay, to pay. (Sure this is Gripe, my Bedford-Gouty-Ua. Plague o' o' your stilts; what Carpenter set 'em upright? not my wimble, I hope. Oh I am spoiled, spoiled; this 'tis to dream of finding money— I knew, what 'twould come to. Save your labour, good master Thief: for my breeches are i'th' fashion, a great deal of pocket, but no lining. This is the rock that split me. Oh good fate! That thou hadst now about thee half my state. Is't sin to rob the Thief? by usurious course, He once robbed me, now I rob him by force. No difference but this, twixt him and me. I ha' not such protection, as had he. Oh I am a poor man, a very poor man. Thou art indeed; wealth without use doth free No soul from the bleak storms of poverty. Who cannot nature's requests satisfy Out of his wealth, his coffer's rich, not he. Be they all bound to the good forbearance? Thus far quits my revenge. The Usurer lies, As fast in mine, as I am in his ties. Now let me kill him. No, blood shall not die My other sins in purple. Lie there. Lo! That the wise law would serve all usurers so. How few in thy bonds didst thou ere untie? Now bound thyself, so without mercy lie. Come, let's retire to our refuge. Uncle, uncle. I would this all were but a dream too. Oh coz, I am damned, damned, my money's gone. Elstow mortgage is lost. Wallow to me, Nice. Oh uncle, it's dangerous tumbling, snakes i' the grass. Wallow to me, Thirsty. Master, I'm so dry, I cannot stir my feet. Help.— More robberies yet? 'tis strange, how villains swarm! mischiefs hold close to keep each other warm. Three rank corruptions make their near abode. An Abbey, bawdy-house, and a Thievish road. Where be these men distressed?— how? my Usurer? Shall I unbind him, that hath bound my husband In merciless fetters? Yes, I'm bidden, still; With good deeds to requite my enemies ill. Come, devil, I'll unlose thee. Oh how I'm crossed! My money, and my mortgage, all, all lost. Mass, a pretty wench— If she lay thus bound before me, I would not lose her, but upon some conditions. Will you go in Sir, and refresh yourself? I'll follow thee, sweet girl. Would I could cope This mortgage, though my other be past hope. Do they brew wine here? See how this woman still me quits, and crosses. I rob and bind, and she relieves their losses. Why doth she thus? It's but a trick of hers: By charity to draw in customers. I am now patient, but more Cuckold still. I help her to supply, 'gainst my own will. Shall we retire to my chamber, and share?
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)
Vaſt. Loſt, loſt; as ſure as Virginitie; no ſooner laid then loſt. Come then to pay, to pay. (Sure this is Gripe, my Bedford-Gowtie-Vſurer. Plague o▪ your ſtilts; what Carpenter ſet 'hem vpright? not my wimble, I hope. Oh I am ſpoyld, ſpoyld; this tis to dreame of ſinding money—I knew, what twould come to. Saue your labour, good maſter Theefe: for my breeches are ith' faſhion, a great deale of pocket, but no lining. This is the rocke that ſplit me. Oh good fate! That thou hadſt now about thee halfe my ſtate. Is't ſinne to rob the Theefe? by vſurious courſe, He once robd me, now I rob him by force. No difference but this, twixt him and me. I ha' not ſuch protection, as had he. Oh I am a poore man, a verie poore man. Thou art indeed; wealth without vſe doth free No ſoule from the bleake ſtormes of pouertie. Who cannot natures requeſts ſatisfie Out of his wealth, his coffer's rich, not he. Be they all bound to the good forberance? Thus farre quits my reuenge. The Vſurer lies, As faſt in mine, as I am in his tyes. Now let me kill him. No, bloud ſhall not die My other ſinnes in purple. Lye there. Loe! That the wiſe lawe would ſerue all vſurers ſo. How few in thy bonds didſt thou ere vntie? Now bound thy ſelfe, ſo without mercy lie. Come, let's retire to our refuge. Vncle, vncle. I would this all were but a dreame too. Oh coz, I am damnd, damnd, my mony's gone. Elſtow morgage is loſt. Wallow to me, Nice. Oh vncle, its dangerous tumbling, ſnakes i' the graſſe. Wallow to me, Thirſty. Maſter, I'm ſo drie, I cannot ſtirre my feet. Helpe.— More robberies yet? tis ſtrange, how villains ſwarme! Miſchiefes hold cloſe to keepe each other warme. Three ranke corruptions make their neere abode. An Abby, Bawd'houſe, and a Theeuiſh rode. Where be theſe men diſtreſſed?—how? my Vſurer? Shall I vnbind him, that hath bound my husband In mercileſſe fetters? Yes, I'm bidden, ſtill; With good deeds to requite my enemies ill. Come, diuell, Ile vnloſe thee. Oh how I'm croſt! My mony, and my morgage, all, all loſt. Maſſe, a prety wench—If ſhe lay thus bound before mee, I would not looſe her, but vpon ſome conditions. VVill you go in Sir, and refreſh your ſelfe? Ile follow thee, ſweete girle. Would I could cope This morgage, though my other be paſt hope. Doe they brew wine here? See how this woman ſtill me quits, and croſſes. I rob and binde, and ſhe releeues their loſſes. Why doth ſhe thus? Its but a tricke of hers: By charitie to draw in cuſtomers. I am now patient, but more Cuckold ſtill. I helpe her to ſupply, gainſt my owne will. Shall we retire to my chamber, and ſhare?