S., S. · published 1616 · first performed or written 1615 [c.1614-1615] (Annals) comedy · Queen Anne's Men unassigned nearest T45 Widows, wooing and remarriage · 496 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T45: widow, widows, hoord, master, gentlemen, wife, randalls, wit, mistress, married.
I am cobbed. It's true, my lord: this is one of the Fairies. justice, justice. Well, if there be no remedy, I hope, I shall not dance alone upon the rope. My lord, here's the other Fairy. O Sir, have I found you? Pull off that borrowed habit from his back. O that such foul deeds should be hid in black. My Lord, this Widow's accessary too: She plotted, she received. justice, justice. But late thy song was mercy, now all justice? Here's all the goodness of an Usurer. She saved his life, he would now hang her. She has robbed me, undone me. It is most true, my lord, she plotted all. (Your villainy, Ostice, we shall now retort. You cheated us, and we will hang you for't. How do these mischiefs grow, like Hidra's heads, faster by cutting off! Prodigious villains! will they thus cast away an innocent woman? Yet I most vile of all, that thus stand by, And for my fault behold my poor wife die. My lord, upon my soul this woman's clear: And only malice thus accuseth her. Speak, woman, art thou guilty? My lord, I beg a word with my Confessor, Than I shall answer. Sir, a word in private. Now Vaster, open thy unbelieving eyes: Lo, thy devoted wife for thy sin dies. Yield but this kindness to my latest breath, Thou hat'st me living, love me yet in death. Farewell— My lord, I will not say, I'm guilty; Do as your evidence and wisdom leads you. This knot is hard to undo. My lord, I'll help you. Lo, I am that third Fairy, that pronounce This woman clear, and those two perjured knaves. We three are guilty: let your sentence come. I have deserved, will not despair my doom. My lord, he says not true: he's innocent: I guilty. Speak on your souls, which of these tongues speak truth. Curf. My lord, the woman's clear. Pernicious Villains, hopeless to be good: That thus have strove to spill the guiltless blood. Widow, you're quitted. Sir, wait you your doom. With patience. Benjamin Gripe, I here accuse you for murdering Richard Vaster. How? My lord, I found that Vaster dying, buried him, Saw him receiving death by this man's sword. Theft's a great sin, but murder most abhorred. Speak; is this possible? We met in single combat in the field: It seems his life unto my sword did yield. Ay me, my father slain? And by his friend? Fate, whither will thy projects tend! My husband's hand my father's life undoes: For this fact he must die: thus both I lose. Forgive me all, by me you all have lost, The wife a Husband, children a dear Parent: Thus I return you all some recompense. Nan thou shalt lose a husband. heavens defend. Mother, you lose a son, brother a friend. Can nature so degenerate, that a man should live, stand by, and see another suffer for murdering him?
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)
I am cob'd. It's true, my lord: this is one of the Fairies. Iuſtice, Iuſtice. Well, if there be no remedie, I hope, I ſhall not dance alone vpon the rope. My lord, here's the other Fairie. O Sir, haue I found you? Pull off that borrowd habite from his backe. O that ſuch foule deeds ſhould be hid in blacke. My Lord, this Widow's acceſſary too: She plotted, ſhe receiu'd. Iuſtice, iuſtice. But late thy ſong was mercy, now all iuſtice? Here's all the goodnes of an Vſurer. She ſau'd his life, he would now hang her. She has robb'd me, vndone me. It is moſt true, my lord, ſhe plotted all. (Your villanie, Oſtice, we ſhall now retort. You cheated vs, and we will hang you for't. How doe theſe miſchiefes grow, like Hidra's heads, faſter by cutting off! Prodigious villaines! will they thus caſt away an innocent woman? Yet I moſt vile of all, that thus ſtand by, And for my fault behold my poore wife dye. My lord, vpon my ſoule this woman's cleare: And only malice thus accuſeth her. Speake, woman, art thou guilty? My lord, I begge a word with my Confeſſor, Then I ſhall anſwere. Sir, a word in priuate. Now Vaſter, ope thy vnbeleeuing eyes: Lo, thy deuoted wife for thy ſinne dyes. Yeeld but this kindneſſe to my lateſt breath, Thou hate'ſt me liuing, loue me yet in death. Farewell—My lord, I will not ſay, I'm guilty; Do as your euidence and wiſedome leades you. This knot is hard to vndo. My lord, Ile help you. Loe, I am that third Fairy, that pronounce This woman cleare, and thoſe two periur'd knaues. We three are guilty: let your ſentence come. I haue deſeru'd, will not deſpaire my doome. My lord, he ſayes not true: hee's innocent: I guilty. Speake on your ſoules, which of theſe tongues ſpeak truth. Curf. My lord, the woman's cleare. Pernicious Villaines, hopeleſſe to be good: That thus haue ſtroue to ſpill the guiltleſſe bloud. Widow, y' are quitted. Sir, waite you your doome. With patience. Beniamin Gripe, I here accuſe you for murdering Richard Vaſter. How? My lord, I found that Vaſter dying, bury'd him, Saw him receiuing death by this mans ſword. Theft's a great ſin, but murder moſt abhorr'd. Speake; is this poſsible? We met in ſingle combate in the field: It ſeemes his life vnto my ſword did yeeld. Ay me, my father ſlaine? And by his friend? Fate, whither will thy proiects tend! My husbands hand my fathers life vndoes: For this fact he muſt dye: thus both I loſe. Forgiue me all, by me you all haue loſt, The wife a Husband, children a deare Parent: Thus I returne you all ſome recompence. Nan thou ſhalt loſe a husband. Heauens defend. Mother, you loſe a ſon, brother a friend. Can nature ſo degenerate, that a man ſhould liue, ſtand by, and ſee another ſuffer for murdering him?