Rawlins, Thomas · published 1640 · first performed or written 1638 [1637-1639] (Annals) tragedy · King's Revels Company unassigned nearest T26 Devils, hell and fiends · 516 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T26: devil, hell, devils, sure, soul, fiend, sr, wife, lord, men.
Come, bring her forward, tie her to that tree, Each man shall have this turn: Come Minion, You must squench the raging flames of my Concupiscence: what do you weep, you Puritanical Punk: I shall tickle mirth Into you by and by: Trotter, good Trotter post Unto my Cell, make compound of Muskadine And eggs; for the truth is, I am a Giant in my Promises but in the act a Pigmy: I am old, and Cannot do as I have done; good Trotter Make all convenient speed. Faith Master if you can't, here's them that can ferret in a coney burrow without a provocative, I'll warrant you: good Master let me begin the health. No more I say: it is a parcel of excellent Mutton: I'll cut it up myself: come Minion. Kill me; Oh kill me: Rather let me die, Than live to see the jewel that adorns The souls of virtuous Virgins ravished from me. Do not add sin to sin, and at a price That ruins me, and not enriches you, Purchase damnation: do not, do not do't: Sheath here your sword, and my departing soul, Like your good Angel, shall solicit heaven To dash out your offences: let my flight Be pure and spotless: do not injure that, Manhood would blush to think on. it is all A Maid's Divinity: wanting her life She's fair corpse: wanting her chastity, A spotted soul of living infamy. Hang Chastity. A very voice. O Captain, Captain, yonder's the mad Orlando the furious, and I think he takes me for— What do you call him? What Meder? 1, 1, Meder: the Devil Meder him, he has so nuddled me— O here he comes; I'll be gone. Stay Satire; stay; you are too light of foot, I cannot reach your paces, prithee stay. What Goddess have you there? sure 'tis Evadne: Are you the Dragons that ne'er sleep but watch The golden fruit of the Hesperides: Ha, than I am Hercules; fly ye? Sure that face dwelled on Evadnes shoulders. O thou preserver of near lost Evadne, What must my weakness pay? 'Tis, 'tis she; she must not know I'm mad. Assist me some good power, (it is my friend) Make me but wise enough to resolve myself. It may be 'tis not she; I'll ask her name. What are you called sweet goddess? They that know me mortal, term me Evadne. 'tis she: ay, ay, 'tis she. Pray you sir, unto the bond of what I owe you, Which is a poor distressed virgin's life, add This one debt: what are you? Not worth your knowledge: I am a poor, A very, very poor despised thing: but say I pray, are you sure your name's Evadne? 'tis questionless my Tailor. I am she, (Receive me to your arms) not altered In my heart, though in my clothes. I do believe you, indeed I do; but stay I don't Are you a Maid, a Virgin, pray tell me? For my Evadne could not tell me a lie; speak, I shall love you, though that Jewell's gone.
seed 43: T23 · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Come, bring her forward, tye her to that tree, Each man shall have this turne: Come Minion, You must squench the raging flames of my Concupisence: what doe you weep, you Puritanicall Punke: I shall tickle mirth Into you by and by: Trotter, good Trotter post Unto my Cell, make compound of Muskadine And egges; for the truth is, I am a Gyant in my Promises but in the act a Pigmy: I am old, and Cannot doe as I have done; good Trotter Make all convenient speed. Faith Master if you cann't, here's them that can ferrit in a Cunny burrow without a provocative, Ile warrant you: good Master let me beginne the health. No more I say: it is a percell of excellent Mutton: Ile cut it up my selfe: come Minion. Kill me; Oh kill me: Rather let me dye, Than live to see the jewell that adornes The soules of vertuous Virgins ravisht from me. Doe not adde sinne to sinne, and at a price That ruiues me, and not enriches you, Purchase damnation: doe not, doe not do't: Sheath here your sword, and my departing soule, Like your good Angell, shall folicit heaven To dash out your offences: let my flight Be pure and spotlesse: doe not injure that, Man-hood wou'd blush to thinke on. it is all A maids Divinity: wanting her life She's faire Coarse: wanting her chastity, A spotted soule of living infamy. Hang Chastity. A very voyce. O Captaine, Captaine, yonder's the mad Orlando the furious, and I thinke he takes me for—What doe you call him? What Meder? 1, 1, Meder: the Divell Meder him, he has so nudled me—O here he comes; Ile be gone. Stay Satyre; stay; you are too light of foote, I cannot reach your paces, prethee stay. What Goddesse have you there? sure 'tis Evadne: Are you the Dragons that ne're sleepe but watch The golden fruit of the Hisperides: Ha, then I am Hercules; flye yee? Sure that face dwelt on Evadnes shoulders. O thou preserver of neare lost Evadne, What must my weaknesse pay? 'Tis, 'tis she; she must not know I'me mad. Assist me some good power, (it is my friend) Make me but wise enough to resolve my selfe. It may be 'tis not she; Ile aske her name. What are you cald sweet goddesse? They that know me mortall, terme me Evadne. Tis she: I, I, tis she. Pray you sir, unto the bond of what I owe you, Which is a poore distressed Virgins life, adde This one debt: what are you? Not worth your knowledge: I am a poore, A very, very poore despised thing: but say I pray, are you sure your name's Evadne? Tis questionlesse my Tayler. I am she, (Receive me to your armes) not alter'd In my heart, though in my cloaths. I doe belelieve you, indeed I doe; but stay I don't Are you a Maid, a Virgin, pray tell me? For my Evadne could not tell me a lye; speak, I shall love you, though that Jewell's gone.