Middleton, Thomas · published 1630 · first performed or written 1613 (Annals) comedy · Lady Elizabeth's Men · Swan unassigned nearest T28 Marriage-making: weddings, brides and ma · 493 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T28: married, marriage, wedding, day, bride, father, wife, luce, love, husband.
Have you played over all your old Lessons o'the Virginals? Yes. Yes, you are a dull Maid o'late, methinks you had need have somewhat to quicken your Green Sickness, do you weep? A Husband. Had not such a piece of Flesh been ordained, what had us Wives been good for? To make Salads, or else cried up and down for sampire. To see the difference of these Seasons, when I was of your youth, I was lightsome, and quick, two years before I was married. You fit for a knight's bed, drowsy browed, dull eyed, drossy spirited, I hold my life you have forgot your Dancing: When was the Dancer with you? The last week. Last week, when I was of your board, he missed me not a night, I was kept at it, I took delight to learn, and he to teach me, pretty brown Gentleman, he took pleasure in my company, but you are dull, nothing comes nimbly from you, you dance like a plumber's Daughter, and deserve two thousand pound in Lead to your marriage, and not in goldsmith's Ware. Now what's the din betwixt Mother and Daughter, ha? Faith small, telling your Daughter Marry of her Errors. Errors, nay the City cannot hold you Wife, but you must needs fetch words from Westminster, I ha' done i'faith, has no attorney's clerk been here a late, and changed his half-crown-piece his Mother sent him, or rather cozened you with a guilded Twopence, to bring the word in fashion, for her faults or cracks, in duty and obedience, term 'em eeve so sweet Wife. As there is no Woman made without a Flaw, your purest Lawns have Frays, and cambrics Bracks. But 'tis a Husband solders up all Cracks. What is he come Sir? Sir Walters come. He was met at Holborn Bridge, and in his company, a proper fair young Gentlewoman, which I guess by her red Hair, and other rank descriptions, to be his landed Niece, brought out of Wales, which Tim our Son (the Cambridge Boy) must marry. 'Tis a match of Sir Walters own making to bind us to him, and our Heirs for ever. We are honoured then, if this Baggage would be humble, and kiss him with devotion when he enters. I cannot get her for my life to instruct her Hand thus, before and after, which a Knight will look for, before and after. I have told her still, 'tis the waving of a Woman does often move a Man, and prevails strongly. But sweet, ha' you sent to Cambridge, (has Tim word an't?) Had word just the day after when you sent him the Silver Spoon to eat his Broth in the Hall, amongst the Gentlemen Commoners. O 'twas timely. How now? A Letter from a Gentleman in Cambridge. O one of Hobson's Porters, thou art welcome. I told thee Maud we should hear from Tim. Amantissimis charissimisque ambobus parentibus patri & matri.
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)
HAue you playd ouer all your old Leſſons o'the Virginals? Yes. Yes, you are a dull Mayd alate, me thinkes you had need haue ſomewhat to quicken your Greene Sickneſſe, doe you weepe? A Huſband. Had not ſuch a peece of Fleſh been ordayned, what had vs Wiues been good for? To make Sallets, or elſe cryd vp and downe for Sampier. To ſee the difference of theſe Seaſons, when I was of your youth, I was lightſome, and quicke, two yeeres before I was married. You fit for a Knights bed, drowſie browd, dull eyed, droſſie ſprited, I hold my life you haue forgot your Dauncing: When was the Dauncer with you? The laſt weeke. Laſt weeke, when I was of your bord, he miſt me not a night, I was kept at it, I tooke delight to learne, and he to teach me, prittie browne Gentleman, he tooke pleaſure in my company, but you are dull, nothing comes nimbly from you, you daunce like a Plummers Daughter, and deſerue two thouſand pound in Lead to your marriage, and not in Gold-Smithes Ware. Now what's the din betwixt Mother and Daughter, ha? Faith ſmall, telling your Daughter Mary of her Errors. Errors, nay the Citie cannot hold you Wife, but you muſt needs fetch words from Weſtminſter, I ha done I faith, has no Atturneys Clarke beene here a late, and changed his Halfe-Crowne-peece his Mother ſent him, or rather cozend you with a guilded Two-pence, to bring the word in faſhion, for her faults or crackes, in dutie and obedience, terme em eeue ſo ſweet Wife. As there is no Woman made without a Flaw, your pureſt Lawnes haue Frayes, and Cambrickes Brackes. But 'tis a Husband ſowders vp all Crackes. What is he come Sir? Sr Walters come. He was met at Holbourne Bridge, and in his company, a proper faire young Gentlewoman, which I gueſſe by her red Hayre, and other ranke deſcriptions, to be his landed Neece, brought out of Wales, which Tim our Sonne (the Cambridge Boy) muſt marry. 'Tis a match of Sr Walters owne making to bind vs to him, and our Heires for euer. We are honord then, if this Baggage would be humble, and kiſſe him with deuotion when he enters. I cannot get her for my life to inſtruct her Hand thus, before and after, which a Knight will looke for, before and after. I haue told her ſtill, 'tis the wauing of a Woman doſe often moue a Man, and preuailes ſtrongly. But ſweet, ha you ſent to Cambridge, (has Tim word an't?) Had word iuſt the day after when you ſent him the Siluer Spoone to eat his Broath in the Hall, amongſt the Gentlemen Commoners. O 'twas timely. How now? A Letter from a Gentleman in Cambridge. O one of Hobſons Porters, thou art well-come. I told thee Maud we ſhould heare from Tim. Amantiſſimis chariſſimiſ que ambobus parentibus patri & matri.