2 The Honest Whore (2 The Converted Courtesan) · chunk 10 of 47
Dekker, Thomas · published 1630 · first performed or written 1605 [1604-c.1605] (Annals) comedy · Prince Henry's Men T23 Husbands, wives and jealousy typicality 0.79 · 482 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T23: wife, husband, cuckold, jealousy, woman, jealous, mistress, love, house, honest.
How, hang her in her garters? Will you be a rame Pigeon still? shall your back be like a tortoise shell, to let Carts go over it, yet not to break? This she-cat will have more lives than your last puss had, and will scratch worse, and mouse you worse: look to't. What would you have me do, sir? What would I have you do? Swear, swagger, brawl, fling; for fighting it's no matter, we ha' had knocking Pusses enough already; you know, that a woman was made of the rib of a man, and that rib was crooked. The Moral of which is, that a man must from his beginning be crooked to his wife; be you like an Orange to her, let her cut you never so fair, be you sour as vinegar; will you be ruled by me? In any thing that's civil, honest, and just. Have you ever a Prentice's suit will fit me? I have the very same which myself wore. I'll send my man for't within this half hour, and within this two hours I'll be your Prentice: the Hen shall not overcrow the Cock, I'll sharpen your spurs. It will be but some jest, sir. Only a jest: farewell, come Carolo: we'll take our leaves, Sir, too. Pray conceit not ill of my wife's sudden rising. This young Knight, Sir Lodovico, is deep seen in Physic, and he tells me, the disease called the Mother, hangs on my wife, it is a vehement heaving and beating of the Stomach, and that swelling did with the pain thereof cramp up her arm, that hit his lips, and broke the glass: no harm, it was no harm. No, Signior, none at all. The straightest arrow may fly wide by chance. But come, we'll close this brawl up in some dance. Oh my sweet Husband, wert thou in thy grave, and art alive again? O welcome, welcome. Dost know me? my cloak prithee lay't up. Yes faith, my winding sheet was taken out of Lavender, to be stuck with Rosemary, I lacked but the knot here, or here; yet if I had had it, I should ha' made a wry mouth at the world like a please: but sweetest villain, I am here now, and I will talk with thee soon. And glad am I thouart here. Did these heels caper in shackles? A my little plump rogue, I'll bear up for all this, and fly high. Catzo Catzo. Matheo? What sayest, what sayest? Oh brave fresh air, a pox on these Grates and gingling of Keys, and rattling of Iron, I'll bear up, I'll fly high wench, hang Toss. Matheo, prithee make thy prison thy glass, And in it view the wrinkles, and the scars, By which thou wert disfigured, viewing them, mend them. I'll go visit all the mad rogues now, and the good roaring boys.
nodes 364–388 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 10 of 47 in this edition
Length
482 words · 667 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T23 — Husbands, wives and jealousycross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.785 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
seed 43: T26 · seed 44: T28 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
How, hang her in her garters? Will you be a rame Pidgeon still? shall your backe be like a Tortoys shell, to let Carts goe ouer it, yet not to breake? This Shee-cat will haue more liues then your last Pusse had, and will scratch worse, and mouze you worse: looke toot. What would you haue me doe, sir? What would I haue you doe? Sweare, swagger, brawle, fling; for fighting it's no matter, we ha had knocking Pusses enow already; you know, that a woman was made of the rib of a man, and that rib was crooked. The Morall of which is, that a man must from his beginning be crooked to his wife; be you like an Orāge to her, let her cut you neuer so faire, be you sowre as vineger; will you be ruled by me? In any thing that's ciuill, honest, and iust. Haue you euer a Prentices suite will fit me? I haue the very same which my selfe wore. Ile send my man for't within this halfe houre, and within this two houres Ile be your Prentice: the Hen shall not ouercrow the Cocke, Ile sharpen your spurres. It will be but some iest, sir. Onely a iest: farewell, come Carolo: Wee'll take our leaues, Sir, too. Pray conceite not ill of my wiues sodaine rising. This young Knight, Sir Lodouico, is deepe seene in Phisicke, and he tells me, the disease call'd the Mother, hangs on my wife, it is a vehement heauing and beating of the Stomacke, and that swelling did with the paine thereof crampe vp her arme, that hit his lips, and brake the glasse: no harme, it was no harme. No, Signior, none at all. The straightest arrow may flye wide by chance. But come, we'll cloze this brawle vp in some dance. Oh my sweet Husband, wert thou in thy graue, and art aliue agen? O welcome, welcome. Doest know me? my cloake prethee lay't vp. Yes faith, my winding sheete was taken out of Lauender, to be stucke with Rosemary, I lackt but the knot here, or here; yet if I had had it, I should ha made a wry mouh at the world like a Playse: but sweetest villaine, I am here now, and I will talke with thee soone. And glad am I th'art here. Did these heeles caper in shackles? A my little plumpe rogue, Ile beare vp for all this, and flye hye. Catzo Catzo. Matheo? What sayest, what sayest? Oh braue fresh ayre, a pox on these Grates and gingling of Keyes, and rattling of Iron, Ile beare vp, Ile flye hye wench, hang Tosse. Matheo, prethee make thy prison thy glasse, And in it view the wrinkles, and the scarres, By which thou wert disfigured, viewing them, mend them. Ile goe visit all the mad rogues now, and the good roaring boyes.