Davenport, Robert · published 1639 · first performed or written 1625 [c.1624-1639] (Annals) comedy · Queen Henrietta Maria's Men (?); Lady Elizabeth's Men (?) T26 Devils, hell and fiends typicality 0.84 · 506 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T26: devil, hell, devils, sure, soul, fiend, sr, wife, lord, men.
Sure he's Mad? There can be no more terror in his look Than in the face of my extreme distress: His Visage cannot be so horrible As my despair; what should I fear then, ha? An Usurer may wear Horns, a Scrivener too, Should I be more afraid of his then theirs? I know no reason for't. Good sir, take comfort. Man can no sooner think upon the Devil, But a woman is at's Elbow; trust me not I've no affairs with thee. Leave those vain thoughts As Fantasies of a distracted brain; I come with sorrow, and repentant tears; To bring you back your own. Not possible, That's all in Hucksters handling, and canst thou Bring it from thence? why the great Devil himself Can never do't; some is distributed 'Mong Bawds, and Whores; here Panders have a part, And Cheaters there a share; Taverns, and Ordinaries: But the prime part the Usurer hath in's Chest, I would 'twere in his Belly: and the choice Of all I had, for which these were reserved, prized by me but as trivial ornaments T'adorn one Jewel, rated above them, Higher than gold above the basest dross, And that the Lord hath seized. The Lord? what Lord? Lord of this Soil; which I will ne'er repurchase After his so base sullying. Oh, but sir. What says my Donna Anne, my Lady Serpent Armed in her golden scales? What says Madona? That I prefer thy basest poverty Before all glorious Titles; give me ear, And I'll redeem thy former injuries With ample satisfaction. Hear me first; Back to your Lord, and if you want reparations, First fall into his hands. It was my folly, My appetite too childish novelty, Of which I now crave pardon. Oh woman, woman, Thou hast undone me, spent me to my Shirt, Nay beyond that, even almost to my soul; For I am circled in with black despair, And know not how to free me. I can do't, And to that end I come; wants thy soul comfort? Behold, I bring you comfort: Is your state Decayed and wasted? see, I offer thee A second making, all my hopes and fortunes, I throw on thee; I am possessed of nothing Of which thou art not Lord. Lord? there it goes; And get thee to him, for in rifling thee He hath robbed my brain of sense, my life of means, My soul of solace, and my days of rest; Henceforth I'll be a Madman, turn as Savage As thou to me was't brutish: I'll seek out Some fine familiar Devil, and with him Converse, when I have left man's company; I'll make myself companion with the Night, And Traffic with her servants like the Owl; I'll take my Lodging in some hollow Cave, Till I be grown so out of name and knowledge, That if I chance but to appear by day, Men, Beasts, and Birds shall all stand wondering at me; As at some prodigy, and point at thee For this my transformation.
Queen Henrietta Maria's Men (?); Lady Elizabeth's Men (?)
Genre (British Drama)
comedy
Play type
Adult Professional;Professional
Edition / TCP / DEEP
edition 1110 · TCP A19888 · DEEP 928
Edition role
Representative edition — used in the analysis
Position
nodes 830–902 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 13 of 40 in this edition
Length
506 words · 667 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T26 — Devils, hell and fiendscross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.836 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
seed 43: T23 · seed 44: T23 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Sure hee's Mad? There can be no more terrour in his looke Than in the face of my extreame diſtreſſe: His Viſage cannot be ſo horrible As my deſpaire; what ſhould I feare then, ha? An Uſurer may weare Hornes, a Scrivener too, Should I be more affraide of his then theirs? I know no reaſon for't. Good ſir, take comfort. Man can no ſooner thinke upon the Divell, But a woman is at's Elbow; truſt me not I've no affaires with thee. Leave thoſe vaine thoughts As Fantaſies of a diſtracted braine; I come with ſorrow, and repentant teares; To bring you backe your owne. Not poſſible, That's all in Huckſters handling, and canſt thou Bring it from thence? why the great Divell himſelfe Can never do't; ſome is diſtribued 'Mong Baudes, and Whores; here Panders have a part, And Cheaters there a ſhare; Tavernes, and Ordinaries: But the prime part the Uſurer hath in's Cheſt, I would 'twere in his Belly: and the choiſe Of all I had, for which theſe were reſerv'd, Priz'd by me but as triviall ornaments T'adorne one Jewell, rated above them, Higher than gold above the baſeſt droſſe, And that the Lord hath ſeiz'd. The Lord? what Lord? Lord of this Soyle; which I will ne're repurchaſe After his ſo baſe ſullying. Oh, but ſir. What ſayes my Donna Anne, my Lady Serpent Armed in her golden ſcales? What ſayes Madona? That I preferre thy baſeſt poverty Before all glorious Titles; give me eare, And Ile redeeme thy former injuries With ample ſatiſfaction. Heare mee firſt; Backe to your Lord, and if you want reparations, Firſt fall into his hands. It was my folly, My appetite too childiſh novelty, Of which I now crave pardon. Oh woman, woman, Thou haſt undone me, ſpent me to my Shirt, Nay beyond that, even almoſt to my ſoule; For I am circled in with blacke deſpaire, And know not how to free me. I can doe't, And to that end I come; wants thy ſoule comfort? Behold, I bring you comfort: Is your ſtate Decayed and waſted? ſee, I offer thee A ſecond making, all my hopes and fortunes, I throw on thee; I am poſſeſt of nothing Of which thou art not Lord. Lord? there it goes; And get thee to him, for in rifling thee He hath robb'd my braine of ſence, my life of meanes, My ſoule of ſolace, and my dayes of reſt; Henceforth Ile be a Mad-man, turne as Savage As thou to me was't brutiſh: Ile ſeeke out Some fine familiar Divell, and with him Converſe, when I have left mans company; Ile make my ſelfe companion with the Night, And Traffique with her ſervants like the Owle; Ile take my Lodging in ſome hollow Cave, Till I be growne ſo out of name and knowledge, That if I chance but to appeare by day, Men, Beaſts, and Birds ſhall all ſtand wondring at me; As at ſome progedy, and point at thee For this my tranſformation.