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 0.83 · 482 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T45: widow, widows, hoord, master, gentlemen, wife, randalls, wit, mistress, married.
Further, before ye all I take this ring As an assumpsit, by the virtue of which I bind myself in all my lands and goods, That in his choice, i'll be no hindrance: Or by forbidding banes, or claiming him myself for mine, but let the match go on Without my check, which he intendeth now. And once again I say, I bind myself. Then once again, I say, widow thou'rt mine: Priest marry us, this match I did intend, Ye are all witnesses, if thou hinder it, Widow your lands and goods are forfeit mine. Ha, nay take me to, since there's no remedy, Your Widow (without goods) sells scurvily. Whoop, God give you joy. 'Slight, I am cozened of all sides, I had good hope of the Widow myself, but now I see everybody leaves me saving 'em, umh, umh. 'Troth my Lord, & that will stick by you I warrant. But how Sir, shall we salve this Gentlewoman? Hang her whore. Fie, you are too uncivil. Whore in thy face, I do defy thy taunts. Nay hold fair Lady, now I think upon't. The old Count has no wife, let's make a match. If he be so contented. With all my heart. Then kiss your Spouse. 'Sfoot she has a beard: how now, my son? 'tis the Lord Fee-simple. Father, lend me your sword, you and I are made a couple of fine fools, are we not? If I were not valiant now, and meant to beat 'em all, here would lie a simple disgrace upon us, a Fee-simple one indeed, mark now what i'll say to 'em, d''ee hear my Masters, damn, ye are all the son of a whore, and ye lie, and I will make it good with my sword, this is called Roaring Father. I'll not meddle with you Sir. You are my blood. And I fleshed you, you know. And I have a charge coming, I must not fight now. Has either of you any thing to say to me? Not we Sir. Then have I something to say to you. Have you any thing to say to me? Yes marry have I Sir. Then I have nothing to say to you, for that's the fashion, Father if you will come away with your cough, do? Let me see how many challenges must I get writ: You shall here on me believe it. Nay, we'll not now part angry, stay the Feasts That must attend the weddings, you shall stay. Why, then all friends, I thought you would not have had the manners to bid us stay dinner neither. Then all are friends, and Lady, wife, I crown Thy virtues with this wreath, that 'tmay be said, There's a good wife. A Widow. And a Maid. Yet mine is now approved the happiest life, Since each of you hath changed to be a wife.
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)
Further, before yee all I take this ring As an assumpsit, by the vertue of which I bind my selfe in all my lands and goods, That in his choice, i'le be no hinderance: Or by forbidding banes, or claiming him My selfe for mine, but let the match goe on Without my check, which he intendeth now. And once againe I say, I bind my selfe. Then once againe, I say, widdow thou'rt mine▪ Priest marrie vs, this match I did intend, Yee are all witnesses, if thou hinder it, Widdow your lands and goods are forfeit mine. Ha, nay take me to, since there's no remedie, Your Widdow (without goods) sels scuruilie. Whoop, God giue you joy. S'light, I am cozend of all sides, I had good hope of the Widdow my selfe, but now I see euerie bodie leaues me sauing vm, vm, vm. 'Troth my Lord, & that will sticke by you I warrant. But how Sir, shall we salue this Gentlewoman? Hang her whoore. Fie, you are too vnciuill. Whoore in thy face, I doe defie thy taunts. Nay hold faire Ladie, now I thinke vpon't. The old Count has no wife, lets make a match. If he be so contented. With al my heart. Then kisse your Spouse. S'foot she has a beard: how now, my sonne? T'is the Lord Fee-simple. Father, lend me your sword, you and I are made a couple of fine fooles, are we not? If I were not valiant now, and meant to beate 'em all, heere would lie a simple disgrace vpon vs, a Fee-simple one indeed, marke now what i'le say to 'em, d'ee heare my Masters, Dam-me, yee are all the sonne of a whoore, and ye lie, and I will make it good with my sword, this is cal'd Roaring Father. I'le not meddle with you Sir. You are my blood. And I flesht you, you know. And I haue a charge comming, I must not fight now. Has either of you any thing to say to me? Not we Sir. Then haue I something to say to you. Haue you any thing to say to me? Yes marrie haue I Sir. Then I haue nothing to say to you, for that's the fashion, Father if you will come away with your cough, doe? Let me see how many challenges must I get writ: You shall heere on me beleiue it. Nay, wee'le not now part angrie, stay the Feasts That must attend the weddings, you shall stay. Why, then all friends, I thought you would not haue had the manners to bid vs stay dinner neither. Then all are friends, and Ladie, wife, I crowne Thy vertues with this wreath, that 'tmay be said, There's a good wife. A Widdow. And a Maid. Yet mine is now approu'd the happiest life, Since each of you hath chang'd to be a wife.