Davenport, Robert · published 1639 · first performed or written 1625 [c.1624-1639] (Annals) comedy · Queen Henrietta Maria's Men (?); Lady Elizabeth's Men (?) unassigned nearest T26 Devils, hell and fiends · 490 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T26: devil, hell, devils, sure, soul, fiend, sr, wife, lord, men.
Sir, I had conference with him. Will he do't? By no entreaty or persuasive skill, Nay were he pressed by menace or command, He vows to have no hand in these designs; I could not make him think such things can be; He counts them mere impostures, fallacies, Or, let a man receive them at the best, Illusions of the Devil; that Ghosts walk He saith directly 'tis impossible, And in that faith he'll die; further discourse I could by no means get him listen to, but half displeased he left me. That's his faith, but we are forced to credit Otherwise by lamentable proof. Here comes your husband, he hath perhaps some news I have been labouring, toiling and moiling, To find the cause of this so strange distemperature, Questioned Divines, and talked with cunning men, With Fortune-tellers, skilled in Palmistry, Not a tained Gipsy can escape my search, but I with such Have Traffic. And what comfort? Troth small, or none yet, most in this conclude, That pretend judgement; that till we find some one To lodge without companion in that Bed, And in the dead of darkness question it, Why, to what end, and for what cause it walks, The Vision shall continue: this they said, But none amongst them all so resolute as to Attempt th'adventure. Then 'tis desperate? Not so; for coming from the friary late, I met a man by chance that crossed my way, Whom rather too much spirit had possessed, Or too much folly made mere desperate; Would willingly attempt it, and indeed He did entreat it of me as a Suit. What reason moved him to't? Because he's mad: For who of understanding, or of sense, Would willingly confront great Belzebub, Perhaps despair, distraction, discontent Or fury hath possessed him; be't what will, What's that to us? his is the certain danger, Ours the assured gain. What might he be? One like enough, were Hercules alive, With him in Theseus' stead to enter Hell; A mad companion whom you all well know, One that was once a Suitor to my Daughter. Not Slightall? He. My Rival? Even the same. Of all men living I am loath that he should lodge Beneath my Roof; were there none such he'd play the Devil himself. But we have those Within, can tame him were he twice so wild. But he to be received? of all men living I do not love that fellow. See your error, What better way, more secret, and more safe Can we devise to be revenged, than this? To have him piecemeal torn by Hags and Fiends; He hath no prayer to arm him 'gainst their assault, His Oaths will be assistant to their fury, And further not repel it: You by this Are from a Rival freed; my daughter Nan, From an importunate Suitor, Beggar too; We all from a disturber, and a man That wronged our common quiet.
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)
Sir, I had conference with him. Will he do't? By no entreaty or perſwaſive skill, Nay were he preſſ'd by menace or command, He vowes to have no hand in theſe deſignes; I could not make him thinke ſuch things can be; He counts them meere impoſtures, falacyes, Or, let a man receive them at the beſt, Illuſions of the Divell; that Ghoſts walke He ſaith directly 'tis impoſſible, And in that faith he'le dye; further diſcourſe I could by no meanes get him liſten to, but halfe diſpleaſ'd he left me. That's his faith, but we are froc'd to credit Otherwiſe by lamentable proofe. Here comes your husband, he hath perhaps ſome newes I have bin labouring, toyling and moyling, To finde the cauſe of this ſo ſtrange diſtemperature, Queſtion'd Divines, and talkt with cunning men, With Fortune-tellers, skill'd in Palmiſtry, Not a tain'd Gipſey can eſcape my ſearch, but I with ſuch Have Trafficke. And what comfort? Troth ſmall, or none yet, moſt in this conclude, That pretend Iudgement; that till we finde ſome one To lodge without companion in that Bed, And in the dead of darkeneſſe queſtion it, Why, to what end, and for what cauſe it walkes, The Viſion ſhall continue: this they ſaid, But none amongſt them all ſo reſolute as to Attempt th'adventure. Then 'tis deſperate? Not ſo; for comming from the Friery late, I met a man by chance that croſſ'd my way, Whom rather too much ſpirit had poſſeſſ'd, Or too much folly made meere deſperate; Would willingly attempt it, and indeed He did intreat it of me as a Suite. What reaſon mov'd him to't? Becauſe he's mad: For who of underſtanding, or of ſence, Would willingly confront great Belzebub, Perhaps deſpaire, diſtraction, diſcontent Or fury hath poſſeſt him; be't what will, VVhat's that to us? his is the certaine danger, Ours the aſſured gaine. What might he be? One like enough, were Hurcules alive, With him in Theſius ſtead to enter Hell; A mad companion whom you all well know, One that was once a Suter to my Daughter. Not Slightall? He. My Rivall? Even the ſame. Of all men living I am loath that he ſhould lodge Beneath my Roofe; were there none ſuch he'de play the Divell himſelfe. But wee have thoſe Within, can tame him were he twice ſo wild. But he to be receiv'd? of all men living I doe not love that fellow. See your errour, What better way, more ſecret, and more ſafe Can we deviſe to be reveng'd, than this? To have him peece-meale torne by Haggs and Fiends; He hath no prayer to arme him 'gainſt their aſſault, His Oathes will be aſſiſtant to their fury, And further not repell it: You by this Are from a Rivall freed; my daughter Nan, From an importunate Suter, Begger too; We all from a diſturber, and a man That wrong'd our common quiet.