Anonymous · published 1570 · first performed or written 1568 [before 1569] (Annals) moral · Children of Paul's (first)(?) unassigned nearest T33 Fathers, daughters and marriage negotiat · 559 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T33: daughter, marriage, father, love, davus, matter, son, chremes, wife, mother.
Ah daughter say not so there is great cause and skill, For which you should mislike to live unmarried thus alone What comfort can you have remaining thus unknown How shall the common wealth by you advanced be If you abide enclosed here where no man may you see It is not for your state, yourself to take the pain All strangers that resort to you to entertain To suffer free access of all that come and go To be at each man's call to travail too and fro, What then, since god hath placed such treasure in your breast Wherewith so many thousand think by you to be refreshed Needs must you have some one of hid and secret trust By whom these things may be, well ordered and discussed: To him you must disclose the depth of all your thought By him as time shall serve all matters must be wrought To him above you must content yourself to be at call You must be his, he must be yours, he must be all in all. My Lord your father tells you truth perdie And that in time yourself shall find and try. I could allege more then as yet I have said, But I must yield, and you must be obeyed Fall out as it will there is no help I see, Some one or other in time must marry me, In time nay out of hand, Madam if it please you, In faith I know a younker that will ease you, A lively young gentleman, as fresh as any flower, That will not stick to marye you within this hour. Such haste might hapelye turn to waste to sum, But I pray thee my pretty boy whence art thou come. If it please your good Ladyshype to accept me so, I have a solemn message to tell or I go, Not any thing in secret your honour to stain, But in the presence and hearing of you twain. Speak. The Lady of this world which Lady Natures height, Hath one a peerless son in whom she taketh delight, On him she chargeth man to be antendant still, Both kind to her, his name is Wit, my name is Will, The noble child doth feel the force of cupydes' flame And sendeth now for ease by counsel of his dame, His mother taught him first to love while he was young Which love with age increaseth sore and waxeth wondrous strong For very fame displays your bounty more and more, And at this pyntch he burneth so as never heretofore Not fanteses force, not vain and Idle toys of love, Not hope of that which commonly doth other suitors move, But fixed fast good will that never shall relent, And virtues force that shines in you bade him give this attempt, He hath no need of wealth, he woos not for your good, His kindred is such he need not to seek to match with noble blood, Such store of friends that where he jest he may command, And none so hardy to presume his pleasure to withstand, yourself it is, your virtue and your grace, your noble gifts your endless prays in every place, You alone I say the mark that he would hit, The hoped joy the dearest prey that can befale to wit,
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)
Ah daughter say not so there is great cause and skill, For which you shold mislike to liue vnmaried thus alone What comfort can you haue remayning thus vnknowne How shal the common wealth by you aduaunced be If you abide enclosed here where no man may you sée It is not for your state, your selfe to take the payne All straungers that resort to you to entertayne To suffer frée accesse of all that come and goe To be at eche mannes cal to trauayle too and fro, What thē, synce god hath plast such treasure in your brest Wherwith so many thousand thinke by you to be refresht Néedes must you haue some one of hyd and secret trust By whom these things may be, well ordered and discuste: To him you must disclose the depth of all your thought By him as time shall serue all matters must be wrought To hym aboue you must content your selfe to be at call Ye must be his, he must be yours, he must be al in all. My Lord your father telles you truth perdie And that in time your selfe shall fynde and trye. I could aledge more then as yet I haue sayde, But I must yelde, and you muste be obayed Fall oute as it will there is no helpe I sée, Some one or other in time must mary mée, In time nay out of hand, Madame if it please you, In fayth I knowe a yonker that will ease you, A lyuelye younge gentilman, as freshe as any flower, That wyll not sticke to marye you within this hower. Such haste myght hapelye turne to wast to sum, But I pray thee my pretye boye whence art thou come. If it pleace youre good Ladyshype to accepte me soo, I haue a solemne message to tel or I goe, Not anye thynge in secrete your honour to stayne, But in the presence and hearinge of you twayne. Speake. The Lady of this world which Lady Nature hyght, Hath one a peereles sonne in whom she taketh delyght, On hym she chargeth mn to be antendant styll, Both kynde to her, hys name is Witte, my name is Will, The noble chyld doth feele the force of cupydes flame And sendeth now for ease by counsel of hys dame, Hys mother taught hym fyrst to loue whyle he was younge Which loue wt age encreaseth sore and waxeth wondrous stronge For verye fame displayes youre bountye more and more, And at thys pyntch he burneth so as neuer heretofore Not fanteses force, not vayne and Idle toyes of loue, Not hope of that whych commenlye doth other suiters moue, But fixed fast good wyll that neuer shall relent, And vertues force yt shines in you bade him geue this attempte, He hath no neade of wealth, he wooes not for youre good, His kynred is such he nede not to seke to match with noble bloud, Such store of fryndes that where he lest he may commaunde, And none so hardy to presume hys pleasure to withstand, Youre self it is, your vertue and youre grace, Youre noble giftes youre endles prayes in euery place, You alone I saye the marke that he would hit, The hoped ioye the dearest pray that can befale to witte,