S., S. · published 1616 · first performed or written 1615 [c.1614-1615] (Annals) comedy · Queen Anne's Men unassigned nearest T11 Siblings, kin and confidants · 483 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T11: sister, brother, love, friend, heart, father, mother, woman, lord, hear.
So, you pernicious Dam of lusts foul litter, You that buy beauty and do sell 't again; And live by th'occupation. Hear you? Free This woman from your brothel slavery. Or I shall bring you to the cart and lash. Oh I am cast away; she cost me fifty pounds, I ne'er got four groats by her yet. Thou shalt lose more by keeping her. Go cleanse the house from this disorder, or I here discharge thee. Good Land-lord, bestow her where you will. I am content to be rid of her, so I may hold your fouour— Fox pull your honesty. Is this the dancing maid? One more such purchase will undo my trade. Hostess, Ostice, where's your kinswoman? Yonder Sir, talking with my Landlord, your worship's son. Son Benjamin? yea faith, are you so close with a wench? Come hither— she's a whore, Take heed on her. If she want men's, bring her home: she shall keep my house. Faith, I grow old, and cannot now long live: Oh such a Wench would be restorative Persuade her Ben I'll do my best, Sir. See, The pleased fates consent to succour thee. My father's house shall shelter thee unknown. Please the old man with words, but hold your own. If my plot takes, as I can hope no less, This lust of his shall thy good fortunes bless. COme, sister to my sorrows, and myself. They say, society in woes doth lighten Our pressures; but I find the contrary. My woes are heavier by thy company My grief for thy distress, doubles mine own. I should be far less wretched, if alone. Sweet brother. since we must both suffer, think it some comfort, that we share an equal fortune. Grief has less power to work on our sad hearts; Where mutual loves contend to bear their parts. Little once thought thy mother, that thy fate Should stoop to service to relieve thy state: We are not tried, but in our misery. He is a cunning Coachman that can turn Well in a narrow room. To manage plenty In a right form, commends the state, not person. he's blessed, that to be rich can give consent With honesty, or rest poor with content. I wonder, Benjamin doth not visit us. His last relief is done, if that spring dry, We faint for succour, and must fainting die. See, here comes Bromley, once our father's Steward: Sure, he'll support us. Sister, cry his kindness: thy speech is more pathetical. thieves, Lawyers, Rogues, Harlots, and Innkeepers, are men's purgations. Griffin has cheated me: took twenty angels from me; thieves took 'em from him. He promised to draw Sager to compound; now the day's gone against me. Oh I could wish my nails turned Vultures talons, That I might tear their flesh in mammocks, raise My losses from their carcases turned Mummy. Good Sir, a word—
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)
So, you pernicious Damme of luſts foule littour, You that buy beauty and do ſell 't againe; And liue by th'occupation. Heare you? Free This woman from your brothell ſlauerie. Or I ſhall bring you to the cart and laſh. Oh I am caſt away; ſhe coſt me fifty pounds, I ne're got foure grotes by her yet. Thou ſhalt loſe more by keeping her. Goe cleanſe the houſe from this diſorder, or I here diſcharge thee. Good Land-lord, beſtow her where you will. I am content to be rid of her, ſo I may hold your fouour— Foxe pull your honeſty. Is this the dancing mayde? One more ſuch purchaſe will vndoe my trade. Hoſtice, Oſtice, wher's your kinſwoman? Yonder Sir, talking with my Land-lord, your Worſhips ſonne. Son Benlamin? yea faith, are you ſo cloſe with a wench? Come hither—ſhe's a whore, Take heed on her. If ſhe want mennes, bring her home: ſhe ſhall keep my houſe. Faith, I grow old, and cannot now long liue: Oh ſuch a Wench would be reſtoratiue Perſwade her Ben. Ile do my beſt, Sir▪ See, The pleaſed fates conſent to ſuccour thee. My fathers houſe ſhall ſhelter thee vnknowne. Pleaſe the old man with words, but hold your owne. If my plot takes, as I can hope no leſſe, This luſt of his ſhall thy good fortunes bleſſe. COme, ſiſter to my ſorrowes, and my ſelfe. They ſay, ſociety in woes doth lighten Our preſſures; but I finde the contrary. My woes are heauier by thy companie My griefe for thy diſtreſſe, doubles mine owne. I ſhould be farre leſſe wretched, if alone. Sweet brother. ſince we muſt both ſuffer, thinke it ſome comfort, that we ſhare an equall fortune. Griefe has leſſe power to worke on our ſad hearts; Where mutuall loues contend to beare their parts. Little once thought thy mother, that thy fate Should ſtoope to ſeruice to relieue thy ſtate: We are not try'd, but in our miſerie. He is a cunning Coach-man that can turne Well in a narrow roome. To manage plenty In a right forme, commends the ſtate, not perſon. Hee's bleſt, that to be rich can giue conſent With honeſtie, or reſt poore with content. I wonder, Benjamin doth not viſit vs. His laſt reliefe is done, if that ſpring drye, We faint for ſuccour, and muſt fainting dye. See, here comes Bromloy, once our fathers Steward: Sure, hee'l ſupport vs. Siſter, cry his kindneſſe: thy ſpeech is more pathetical. Theeues, Lawyers, Rogues, Harlots, and Inne-keepers, are mens purgations. Griffin has cheated mee: tooke twenty angels from me; theeues tooke 'hem from him. He promis'd to draw Sager to compound; now the day's gone againſt me. Oh I could wiſh my nailes turn'd Vulturos tallons, That I might teare their fleſh in mammocks, raiſe My loſſes from their carcaſes turn'd Mummy. Good Sir, a word—