Heywood, Thomas / Rowley, William · published 1632 · first performed or written 1611 [1611-1614] (Annals) comedy · Unknown unassigned nearest T16 Gallantry: ladies, lordships and complim · 510 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T16: lady, madam, gentleman, lordship, ladies, honour, mistress, sweet, court, servant.
Then you do wrong, Sir, for you take money for 'em: What woman can have a husband, but you must Have custom for him? and often the ware proves nought too not worth the Impost. Your man's pregnant, and merry, mistress. he's saucy Sir. Sirrah, you'll be gone. Nay, at the second hand you'll have a fee too; You sell in the Church, and they bring 'em again To your Churchyard, you must have tollage: methinks if a man die whether you will or no, He should be buried whether you would or no. Nay now you wade too far, Sir. You'll be gone, Sirrah. Mistress make him your friend, for he knows what rate Good husbands are at; if there hath been a dearth Of women of late, you may chance pick Out a good prize; but take heed of a Clerk. Will you yet Sir, after your needless trouble, Be gone, and bid the maids dress dinner. Mistress, 'tis fasting day today, there's nothing but fish. Let there be store of that; let bounty furnish the Table, and charity shall be the voider. What fish is there, Sirrah? Marry there is salmon, Pike, and fresh Cod, Soles, Maids, and Plaice. Bid 'em haste to dress 'em then. Nay mistress, I'll help 'em too; the maids shall first Dress the Pike, and the Cod, and then I'll dress The maids in the place you wot on. You sent for me, Gentlewoman? Sir, I did, and to this end: I have some scruples in my conscience; Some doubtful problems which I cannot answer Nor reconcile; I'd have you make them plain. This is my duty; pray speak your mind. And as I speak, I must remember heaven That gave those blessings which I must relate: Sir, you now behold a wondrous woman; You only wonder at the Epithet; I can approve it good; Guess at mine age. At the half way twixt thirty and forty. 'Twas not much amiss; yet nearest to the last; How think you then; Is not this a wonder, That a woman lives full seven and thirty years, Maid to a wife, and wife unto a widow, Now widowed, and mine own, yet all this while From the extremest verge of my remembrance, Even from my weaning hour unto this minute, Did never taste what was calamity; I know not yet what grief is, yet have sought A hundred ways for its acquaintance; with me Prosperity hath kept so close a watch, That even those things that I have meant A cross, have that way turned a blessing; Is it not strange? unparalleled; this gift is singular, And to you alone belonging; you are the Moon, For there's but one, all women else are stars, For there are none of like condition: Full oft, and many have I heard complain Of discontents, thwarts, and adversities; But a second to yourself, I never knew To groan under the superflux of blessings, To have ever been a lien unto sorrow; No trip of fate? Sure it is wonderful.
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)
Then you doe wrong, Sir, for you take mony for 'm: What woman can have a husband, but you must Have custome for him? and often the ware proves Naught too not worth the Impost. Your mans pregnant, and merry, mistris. Hee's sawcy Sir. Sirra, you'l be gone. Nay, at the second hand you'l have a fee too; You sell in the Church, and they bring 'm againe To your Church-yarde, you must have tollage: Me thinkes if a man dye whether you will or no, He should be buryed whether you would or no. Nay now you wade too far, Sir. You'l be gone, Sirra. Mistris make him your friend, for he knowes what rate Good husbands are at; if there hath bin a dearth Of women of late, you may chance picke Out a good prize; but take heede of a Clerke. Will you yet Sir, after your needelesse trouble, Be gone, and bid the maides dresse dinner. Mistris, 'tis fasting day to day, there's nothing but fish. Let there be store of that; let bounty furnish the Table, and charity shall be the voyder. What fish is there, Sirra? Marry there is Sammon, Pike, and fresh Cod, Soles, Maides, and Playce. Bid 'm haste to dresse 'm then. Nay mistris, I'le helpe 'm too; the maides shall first Dresse the Pike, and the Cod, and then I'le dresse The maides in the place you wot on. You sent for me, Gentlewoman? Sir, I did, and to this end: I have some scruples in my conscience; Some doubtfull problemes which I cannot answer Nor reconcile; I'de have you make them plaine. This is my duty; pray speake your minde. And as I speak, I must remember heaven That gave those blessings which I must relate: Sir, you now behold a wondrous woman; You onely wonder at the Epithete; I can approve it good; Ghesse at mine age. At the halfe way 'twixt thirty and forty. 'Twas not much amisse; yet nearest to the last; How thinke you then; Is not this a wonder, That a woman lives full seven and thirty yeares, Mayde to a wife, and wife unto a widdow, Now widdowed, and mine owne, yet all this while From the extremest verge of my remembrance, Even from my weaning houre unto this minute, Did never taste what was calamity; I know not yet what griefe is, yet have sought A hundred wayes for its acquaintance; with mee Prosperity hath kept so close a watch, That even those things that I have meant A crosse, have that way turn'd a blessing; Is it not strange? Vnparaleld; this gift is singular, And to you alone belonging; you are the Moone, For there's but one, all women else are stars, For there are none of like condition: Full oft, and many have I heard complaine Of discontents, thwarts, and adversities; But a second to your selfe, I never knew To groane under the superflux of blessings, To have ever bin a lien unto sorrow; No trip of fate? Sure it is wonderfull.