Field, Nathan · published 1618 · first performed or written 1611 [c.1610-1611] (Annals) comedy · Children of the Queen's Revels · Blackfriars T45 Widows, wooing and remarriage typicality 0.81 · 485 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T45: widow, widows, hoord, master, gentlemen, wife, randalls, wit, mistress, married.
" A widow is a garment worn threadbare, Selling at second hand, like broker's ware. But let us speak of things the present time Make happy to us, and see what is best. I have a servant than the crown of men, The fountain of Humanity, the prize Of every virtue, Moral and Divine; Young, valiant, learned, well-born, rich and shaped As if wise Nature when she fashioned him, Had meant to give him nothing but his form, Yet all additions are conferred on him, That may delight a woman: this same youth To me hath sacrificed his heart, yet I Have checked his suit, laughed at his worthy service, Made him the exercise of my cruelty, Whilst constant as the Sun, for all these clouds His love goes on. Peace, here's the man you name. Widow. we'll stand aside. Good morrow to the glory of our age. The Lady Perfect, and the Lady Bright, The virtuous wife and widow: but to you The Lady Honour, and my Mistress, The happiness of your witness. By thi ight, I neuer heard one speake so scully, Utter such stale wit, and pronounce so ill. But to you, My Lady Honour, and my Mistress, The happiness of your wishes. Stop your wit, You would fain show these Ladies what a hand You hold over your servant. 't shall not need, I will express your tyranny well enough. I have loved this Lady since I was a child, Since I could construe Amo: now she says I do not love her, 'cause I do not weep, Lay mine arms o'er my heart, and wear no garters, Walk with mine eyes in my hat, sigh, and make faces For all the Poets in the town to laugh at, Pox a this howling love, t's like a dog Shut out midnight. Must love needs be powdered, Lie steeped in brine; or will it not keep sweet? Is it like beef in summer? Did you ever Hear one talk fustian like a Butcher thus? 'tis foolish, this same telling folks we love, It needs no words, t' will show itself in deeds, And did I take you for an entertainer, A Lady that will wring one by the finger, Whilst on another's toes she treads, and cries By Gad I love but one, and you are he: Either of them thinking himself the man, I'd tell you in your ear, put for the business, Which graunted, or denied, Maddam God b'wee. Come these are daily slanders that you raise, On our infirm and unresisting Sex, You never met I am sure with such a Lady. many by this light, I have seen a Chamber Frequented like an office of the Law, Clients succeed at midnight one another: Whilst the poor Madam Filth been so distressed, Which of her Loves to show most countenance to, That his dull Husband has perceived her wiles.
seed 43: T40 · seed 44: T40 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
"A widow is a garment worne thred-bare, Selling at second hand, like Brokers ware. But let vs speake of things the present time Make happy to vs, and see what is best. I haue a seruant then the crowne of men, The fountaine of Humanitie, the prize Of euery vertue, Morall and Diuine; Young, valiant, learned, well-borne, rich and shap'd As if wise Nature when she fashioned him, Had meant to giue him nothing but his forme, Yet all additions are conferr'd on him, That may delight a woman: this same youth To me hath sacrific'd his heart, yet I Haue checkt his suite, laught at his worthy seruice, Made him the exercise of my crueltie, Whilst constant as the Sunne, for all these clouds His loue goes on. Peace, here's the man you name. Widow. Wee'll stand aside. Good morrow to the glory of our age. The Lady Perfect, and the Lady Bright, The vertuous wife and widow: but to you The Lady Honor, and my Mistresse, The happinesse of your . By thi ight, I neuer heard one speake so scully, Vtter such sale wit, and pronounce so ill. But to you, My Lady Honor, and my Mistresse, The happinesse of your wishes. Stop your wit, You would faine shew these Ladies what a hand You hold ouer your seruant. T' shall not neede, I will expresse your tyranny well enough. I haue lou'd this Lady since I was a childe, Since I could construe Am: now she saies I doe not loue her, 'cause I doe not weepe, Lay mine armes ore my heart, and weare no garters, Walke with mine eyes in my hat, sigh, and make faces For all the Poets in the towne to laugh at, Poxe a this howling loue, ti's like a dogg Shut out midnight. Must loue needs be poudred, Lie steept in brine; or will it not keepe sweet? Is it like beefe in sommer? Did you euer Heare one talke ustian like a Butcher thus? T'is foolish, this same telling folkes we loue, It needs no words, t' will show it selfe in deeds, And did I take you for an entertainer, A Lady that will wring one by the finger, Whil'st on anothers toes shee treads, and cries By Gad I loue but one, and you are hee: Either of them thinking himselfe the man, I'de tell you in your eare, put for the busines, Which graunted, or denied, Maddam God b'wee. Come these are daily slaunders that you raise, On our infirme and vnresisting Sexe, You neuer me I am sure with such a Lady. O any by this light, I haue seene a Chamber Frequented like an office of the Law, Clients succeede at midnight one another: Whilst the poore Maddam bene so distrest, Which of her Loues to show most That hi dull Husband ha's perceiu'd her wiles.