Jonson, Ben · published 1631 · first performed or written 1626 [Feb] (Annals) comedy · King's Men T52 Prodigals, portions and poor kin typicality 0.81 · 504 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T52: brother, father, uncle, cousin, son, poor, bread, old, given, master.
You see what case, Your, and my Father's plots have brought me to. Your Fathers, you may say, indeed, not mine. he's a hard hearted Gentleman! I am sorry To see his rigid resolution! That any man should so put of affection, And human nature, to destroy his own! And triumph in a victory so cruel! He's fallen out with me, for being yours, And calls me Knave, and Traitors to his Trust, Says he will have me thrown over the Bar— Ha'you deserved it? O, good heaven knows My conscience, and the silly latitude of it! A narrow minded man! my thoughts do devil All in a Lane, or line indeed; No turning, Nor scarce obliquity in them. I still look Right forward to th'intent, and scope of that Which he would go from now. Had you a Trust, than? Sir, I had somewhat, will keep you still Lord Of all the estate, (if I be honest) as I hope I shall. My tender scrupulous breast Will not permit me see the heir defrauded, And like an Alien, thrust out of the blood, The Laws forbidden that I should give consent, To such a civil slaughter of a Son. Where is the deed? hast thou it with thee? Not, It is a thing of greater consequence, Than to be borne about in a black box, Like a Low-countries vorloffe, or Welsh-brief. It is at Lickfinger's, under lock and key. O, fetch it hither. I have bid him bring it, That you might see it. Knows he what brings? Not more than a Gardiner's Ass, what roots he carries, I was a sending my Father, like an Ass, A penitent Epistle, but I am glad I did not, now. Hung him, an austere grape, That has no ivice, but what is verivice in him. I'll show you my letter! Show me a defiance! If I can now commit Father, and Son, And make my profits out of both. Commence A suit with the oldman, for his whole state, And go to Law with the Son's credit, undo Both, both with their own money, it were a piece Worthy my nightcap, and the Gown I wear, A Picklock's name in Law. Where are you Sir? What do you do so long? I cannot found Where I have laid it, but I have laid it safe. No matter, Sir, trust you unto my Trust, 'Tis that that shall secure you, an absolute deed! And I confess, it was in Trust, for you, Jest any thing might have happened mortal to him: But there must be a gratitude thought on, And aid, Sir, for the charges of the suit, Which will be great, 'gainst such a mighty man, As is our Father, and a man possessed Of so much Land, Pecunia and her friends. I am not able to wage Law with him, Yet must maintain the thing, as mine own right, Still for your good, and therefore must be bold To use your credit for moneys.
seed 43: T52 · seed 44: T52 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
You ſee what caſe, Your, and my Fathers plots haue brought me to. Your Fathers, you may ſay, indeed, not mine. Hee's a hard hearted Gentleman! I am ſorie To ſee his rigid reſolution! That any man ſhould ſo put off affection, And humane nature, to deſtroy his owne! And triumph in a victory ſo cruell! He's fall'n out with mee, for being yours, And calls me Knaue, and Traytors to his Truſt, Saies he will haue me throwne ouer the Barre— Ha'you deſeru'd it? O, good heauen knowes My conſcience, and the ſilly latitude of it! A narrow minded man! my thoughts doe dwell All in a Lane, or line indeed; No turning, Nor ſcarce obliquitie in them. I ſtill looke Right forward to th'intent, and ſcope of that Which he would go from now. Had you a Truſt, then? Sir, I had ſomewhat, will keepe you ſtill Lord Of all the eſtate, (if I be honeſt) as I hope I ſhall. My tender ſcrupulous breſt Will not permit me ſee the heyre defrauded, And like an Alyen, thruſt out of the blood, The Lawes forbid that I ſhould giue conſent, To ſuch a ciuill ſlaughter of a Sonne. Where is the deed? haſt thou it with thee? No, It is a thing of greater conſequence, Then to be borne about in a blacke boxe, Like a Low-countrey vorloffe, or Welſh-briefe. It is at Lickfingers, vnder locke and key. O, fetch it hither. I haue bid him bring it, That you might ſee it. Knowes he what brings? No more then a Gardiners Aſſe, what roots he carries, I was a ſending my Father, like an Aſſe, A penitent Epiſtle, but I am glad I did not, now. Hang him, an auſtere grape, That has no iuice, but what is veriuice in him. I'll ſhew you my letter! Shew me a defiance! If I can now commit Father, and Sonne, And make my profits out of both. Commence A ſuite with the oldman, for his whole ſtate, And goe to Law with the Sonnes credit, vndoe Both, both with their owne money, it were a piece Worthy my night-cap, and the Gowne I weare, A Picklockes name in Law. Where are you Sir? What doe you doe ſo long? I cannot find Where I haue laid it, but I haue laid it ſafe. No matter, Sir, truſt you vnto my Truſt, 'Tis that that ſhall ſecure you, an abſolute deed! And I confeſſe, it was in Truſt, for you, Leſt any thing might haue hapned mortall to him: But there muſt be a gratitude thought on, And aid, Sir, for the charges of the ſuite, Which will be great, 'gainſt ſuch a mighty man, As is our Father, and a man poſſeſt Of ſo much Land, Pecunia and her friends. I am not able to wage Law with him, Yet muſt maintaine the thing, as mine owne right, Still for your good, and therefore muſt be bold To vſe your credit for monies.