Hausted, Peter · published 1632 · first performed or written 1632 [Mar 19] (Annals) comedy · before the Court unassigned nearest T33 Fathers, daughters and marriage negotiat · 487 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T33: daughter, marriage, father, love, davus, matter, son, chremes, wife, mother.
Anteros, I'll leave you to your business. I'll in and fetch another hat. Come brave Tom.' Bed, Let brave Tom alone. The justice too, 'tis so. Now am I hunted for about a wedding. Terpander, you have heard how much this match May both concern you and your Son, your fortunes: The greater part of your inheritance You know is mortgaged to me, nay If I would use that rigour of the law 'Tis forfeited and past recovery; Think therefore quickly, if you would be free From all those cares and troubles which afflict Such as do live in debt, compel your Son To marry this my daughter. I am a witch, A witch, a witch a rank, stark stinking witch. It is an ample dowry I confess, And little 'tis agreeing to my nature To buy a husband at so dear a rate, But I have something that sounds father in me; And must not lose a daughter, if there be A remedy in nature. True it is, That (by what angry Deity I know not) She has so fixed her love upon your Son, That I do think nought but a quick fruition Can rescue her from a death. Good justice Hook, I do confess your offer's fair, and would Accept it willingly, but that— But what? I fear my Son will not agree unto 't. Sir had you ta'en an oath upon the same I would have borne your sin, had you been perjured. You know he hates all women. very good. Is he not yours, and under your command? we fathers make our children refractory, By being too indulgent over them; Besides, I am persuaded that his virtues Will not permit him for to contradict Th' authority of a father. O ye Gods! Can ye permit this Villain to profane The sacred name of Virtue thus, who himself Is nothing else but a mere heap of vices? I ever yet found him obedient, Nor do I doubt to win him now: however, I am resolved if he in this shall cross me, I'll disinherit him immediately. I? is it come to that already? well Prepare thyself now Anteros for th' encounter. But see your son. 'tis your best course at first T' accost him gently. How now my son? how fare you? I am not well sir. How not well? your colour Does not proclaim you very sick, but say. there's something in my eyes that troubles me. What's that? A mote, a woman. After the old fashion still? Come on my son, I have been seeking of you, And peradventure you may guess the cause. I would I could not. Hold up your head my daughter And summon your best looks into your face. As I did walk even now into my pasture, I did begin to think. That I was old, That must be next. That now I'm struck in years.
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)
Anteros, I'le leaue you to your buſines. I'le in and fetch an other hat. Come brae Tom. 'Bed, Let braue Tom alone. The Iuſtice too, 'tis ſo. Now am I hunted for about a wedding. Terpander, you haue heard how much this match May both concerne you and your Sonne, your fortunes: The greater part of your inheritance You know is mortgag'd to mee, nay If I would vſe that rigour of the law 'Tis forfeited and paſt recouery; Thinke therefore quickly, if you would be free From all thoſe cares and troubles which afflict Such as do liue in debt, compell your Son To marry this my daughter. I am a witch, A witch, a witch a rancke, ſtarke ſtinking witch. It is an ample dowrie I confeſſe, And litle 'tis agreeing to my nature To buy a husband at ſo deare a rate, But I haue ſomething that ſounds father in mee; And muſt not looſe a daughter, if there bee A remedy in nature. True it is, That (by what angry Deity I know not) Shee has ſo fixt her loue vpon your Son, That I doe thinke naught but a quick fruition Can reſcue her from a death. Good Iuſtice Hooke, I doe confeſſe your offer's fayre, and would Accept it willingly, but that— But what? I feare my Son will not agree vnto 't. Sir had you ta'ne an oath vpon the ſame I would haue borne your ſin, had you beene periur'd. You know he hates all women. very good. Is he not your's, and vnder your command? Wee fathers make our children refractory, By being too indulgent over them; Beſides, I am perſwaded that his vertues Will not permit him for to contradict Th' authority of a father. O ye Gods! Can ye permit this Villaine to profane The ſacred name of Vertue thus, who himſelfe Is nothing elſs but a meere heape of vices? I ever yet found him obedient, Nor doe I doubt to win him now: how ever, I am reſolv'd if he in this ſhall croſſe me, I'le diſinherit him immediatly. I? is it come to that already? well Prepare thy ſelfe now Anteros for th' encounter. But ſee your ſonne. Tis your beſt courſe at firſt T' accoſt him gently. How now my ſon? how fare you? I am not well ſir. How not well? your colour Does not proclaime you very ſicke, but ſay. Ther's ſomething in my eyes that troubles me. What's that? A mote, a woman. After the old faſhiō ſtill? Come on my ſon, I haue bin ſeeking of you, And peradventure you may gueſſe the cauſe. I would I could not. Hold up your head my daughter And ſummon your beſt lookes into your face. As I did walke even now into my paſture, I did begin to thinke. That I was old, That muſt be next. That now I'me ſtrucke in yeares.