A New Wonder, A Woman Never Vexed · chunk 37 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 0.73 · 491 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T52: brother, father, uncle, cousin, son, poor, bread, old, given, master.
Thy songs are Angels tunes, and on thy wings I'll fly with thee to heaven. Thou speakest as I would have thee; His debts I have justly weighed, and find them light. The easier than ta'en off. Thou sayest most right, But I of purpose keep aloof to try My kinsman; whom I spied most dolefully Hovering about the grate, where his father cried With piteous voice, for bread; yet did I chide And railed against the Boy; but my heart says (howe'er my tongue) it was drowned in tears, To see such goodness in a son. Such wheels in children's bosom seldom run. I'll lay a wager wife, that this two hundred pound Paid by these foolish fellows, will by the Boy Be given his father. Troth would it might: In doing me such wrong he does me right Ludgate was once my dwelling, and to show That I true feeling of his misery knew; Albeit long since blown o'er; so thou'lt consent, Within that place I'll raise some monument, Shall keep our names alive till doomsday. I gladly shall agree. To any act that tends to charity. Come, where's Mr. Foster? Oh you lose time Sir, Not meeting fortune that comes to kiss you. The Lord Maior and Aldermen stay at the Guildhall, Expecting you, as well to set down order Touching the entertainment of the King, As to elect you for the following year a Sheriff of London. Their loves outstrip my merit. Yet since they lay that load on me, I'll bear it, And wait in scarlet on my liege and King. But pray resolve me, Master Alderman, Why makes the King this visitation? Troth Sir, to honour me, I thank his highness, Who with my Lord the Cardinal comes along To see the dedication of my House, Built for the weary travellers to rest in; Where stands three hundred beds for their relief, With meat, drink, and some money when they part, Which I'll give freely with a willing heart. A pious, worthy, and religious act: Come Sir, toth' Guildhall; Wife, look to your Kinsman, watch him near; but do not hinder Him if he relieve his father: Come Master Alderman, With such sweet incense up your offerings fly, I'll build one Altar more to charity. COme, come, be merry Sir; do as mourners do at Funerals, wear your Hat in your eyes, and Laugh in your heart. I have no such fat legacy left me, To teach me how to play the hypocrite. No? Why look ye Sir, you shall want neither Meat, drink, money, nor any thing that the House affords, or if any thing abroad like ye, Sir, here's money, send for what you will Sir: Nay, you shall beg no more at the Grate neither. Ha? Is not this Ludgate? Yes Sir. A jail, a prison, a tomb of men locked up; Alive and buried? 'Tis what you please to call it.
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)
Thy songs are Angels tunes, and on thy wings I'l flye with thee to heaven. Thou speakest as I would have thee; His debts I have justly weighed, and finde them light. The easier then tane off. Thou sayest most right, But I of purpose keepe aloofe to try My kinsman; whom I spied most dolefully Hovering about the grate, where his father cry'd With pitteous voyce, for bread; yet did I chide And rayl'd against the Boy; but my heart sayes (How ere my tongue) it was drown'd in teares, To see such goodnesse in a sonne. Such wheeles in childrens bosome seldome runne. I'l lay a wager wife, that this two hundred pounde Payd by these foolish fellowes, will by the Boy Be given his father. Troth would it might: In doing me such wrong he does me right Ludgate was once my dwelling, and to shew That I true feeling of his misery knew; Albeit long since blowne o're; so thou'lt consent, Within that place I'l raise some monument, Shall keepe our names alive till doomes-day. I gladly shall agree. To any act that tends to charity. Come, where's Mr. Foster? Oh you lose time Sir, Not meeting fortune that comes to kisse you. The Lord Maior and Aldermen stay at the Guildhall, Expecting you, as well to set downe order Touching the entertainement of the King, As to elect you for the following yeere a Sheriffe of London. Their loves out-strip my merit. Yet since they lay that load on me, I'l beare it, And wait in scarlet on my leige and King. But pray resolve me, Master Alderman, Why makes the King this visitation? Troth Sir, to honour me, I thanke his highnesse, Who with my Lord the Cardinall comes along To see the dedication of my House, Built for the weary travellers to rest in; Where stands three hundred beds for their releefe, With meat, drinke, and some money when they part, Which I'l give freely with a willing heart. A pious, worthy, and religious act: Come Sir, toth' Guildhall; Wife, looke to your Kinsman, watch him neare; but doe not hinder Hi if he releeve his father: Come Master Alderman, With such sweet incense up your offerings flye, I'l build one Altar more to charity. COme, come, be merry Sir; doe as mourners doe at Funerals, weare your Hat in your eyes, and Laugh in your heart. I have no such fat legacie left me, To teach me how to play the hypocrite. No? Why looke yee Sir, you shall want neither Meate, drinke, money, nor any thing that the House affords, or if any thing abroad like yee, Sir, here's money, send for what you will Sir: Nay, you shall beg no more at the Grate neither. Ha? Is not this Ludgate? Yes Sir. A Iayle, a prison, a tombe of men lock'd up; Alive and buryed? 'Tis what you please to call it.