A New Wonder, A Woman Never Vexed · chunk 34 of 45
Heywood, Thomas / Rowley, William · published 1632 · first performed or written 1611 [1611-1614] (Annals) comedy · Unknown T52 Prodigals, portions and poor kin typicality 0.82 · 500 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T52: brother, father, uncle, cousin, son, poor, bread, old, given, master.
Pl buy more blessings; Take thou all my store, I'll keep no coin; and see my father poor. Good Angels guard you, Sir, my prayers shallbe That heaven may bless you for this charity. If he knew me, sure he would not say so; Yet I have comfort if by any means I get a blessing from my father's hands: How cheap are good prayers? A poor penny buys That, by which man up in a minute flies, And mounts to heaven. Oh me, mine Uncle sees me! Now Sir, what make you here so near the prison? I was going, Sir, to buy meat for a poor bird I have, That sits so sadly in the Cage of late, I think he'll die for sorrow. So Sir, your pity will not quit you pains, I fear me; I shall find that bird I think to be that churlish Wretch, your father, that now has taken Shelter here in Ludgate; Go too, Sir, urge me Not, you'd best; I have given you warning: Fawn not on him nor come not near him, If you'll have my love. 'las Sir, that Lamb Were most unnatural that should hate the Dam. Lamb me no Lambs, Sir. Good Uncle; 'las you know when you lay here. I succoured you, so let me now help him. Yes, as he did me, To laugh and triumph at my misery; You freed me with his gold, but 'gainst his will: For him I might have rotted, and lain still; So shall he now. Alack the day! If him thou pity, 'tis thine own decay: Bread, bread, some charitable man remember The poor prisoners; bread for the tender mercy, One penny. O listen Uncle; that's my poor father's voice. There let him howl; Get you gone, and come not near him O my soul! what tortures dost thou feel? Earth ne'er shall find, a son so true, Yet forced to be unkind. Well, go thy ways, thou pattern of true virtue; My heart is full, I could even weep, and much ado I had to forbear, To hear a brother begging in a jail, That but e'er while spread up a lofty sail As proudly as the best: Oh, 'twere a sin Unpardonable in me, should I not succour him? Yes, I will do't, yet closely it shallbe done, And he not know from whence his comforts come. What ho, Keeper there, a word I pray. What's your pleasure, Sir. What's he that at the grate there begged even now. One Master Foster, Sir, a decayed Citizen new Come in. Cry you mercy Sir, you know him Better than myself, I think. I should do, knew he me as I would know Him: prithee take him from the grate, And that no more he stand to beg, There's ten pound to pay his score, and Take off all his wants; if he demand Who sends it, tell him, 'tis thine own free Hand to lend him money.
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)
Pl buy more blessings; Take thou all my store, I'l keepe no coyne; and see my father poore. Good Angels guard you, Sir, my prayers shalbe That heaven may blesse you for this charity. If he knew me, sure he would not say so; Yet I have comfort if by any meanes I get a blessing from my fathers hands: How cheape are good prayers? A poore penny buyes That, by which man up in a minute flies, And mounts to heaven. Oh me, mine Vncle sees me! Now Sir, what make you here so neere the prison? I was going, Sir, to buy meate for a poore bird I have, That sits so sadly in the Cage of late, I thinke he'l dye for sorrow. So Sir, your pitty will not quit you paines, I feare me; I shall finde that bird I thinke to be that churlish Wretch, your father, that now has taken Shelter here in Ludgate; Goe too, Sir, urge me Not, you'd best; I have given you warning: Fawne not on him nor come not neare him, If you'l have my love. Las Sir, that Lambe Were most unnaturall that should hate the Dam. Lambe me no Lambs, Sir. Good Vncle; 'las you know when you lay here. I succour'd you, so let me now helpe him. Yes, as he did me, To laugh and triumph at my misery; You freed me with his gold, but 'gainst his will: For him I might have rotted, and laine still; So shall he now. Alack the day! If him thou pitty, 'tis thine owne decay: Bread, bread, some charitable man remember The poore prisoners; bread for the render mercy, One penny. O listen Vncle; that's my poore father's voyce. There let him howle; Get you gon, and come not neare him O my soule! what tortours dost thou feele? rth neare shall find, a son so true, forc'd to be unkind. Well, go thy waies, thou patterne of true vertue; My full, I could even weepe, and much adoe I had to forbeare, To heare a brother begging in a Iayle, That but e'r while spred up a lofty sayle As proudly as the best: Oh, 'twerea sin Vnpardonable in me, should I not succour him? Yes, I will doe't, yet closely it shalbe done, And he not know from whence his comforts come. What ho, Keeper there, a word I praye. What's your pleasure, Sir. What's he that at the grate there beg'd even now. One Master Foster, Sir, a decayed Citizen new Come in. Cry you mercy Sir, you know him Better than my selfe, I thinke. I should doe, knew he me as I would know Him: prethee take him from the grate, And that no more he stand to beg, There's ten pound to pay his score, and Take off all his wants; if he demand Who sends it, tell him, 'tis thine owne free Hand to lend him money.