Jonson, Ben · published 1641 · first performed or written 1621 [Aug 3; Aug 5; Sep] (Annals) masque · before the Court T26 Devils, hell and fiends typicality 0.67 · 507 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T26: devil, hell, devils, sure, soul, fiend, sr, wife, lord, men.
EXcellent i'faith, a most restorative Gipsy, all's here again; and yet by his learning of Legierdemaine, he would make us believe we had robbed ourselves. A Gipsy of quality believe it, and one of the Kings Gipsies; this a Drinke-alian, or a Drinke-braggatan? Ask him. The King has his noise of Gipsies, as well as of Bearwards, and other Minstrels. What sort or order of Gipsies, I pray sir. A Flagon-fekian, A Devils-arse-a Pekian; Borne first at Niglington, Bread up at Filchington, Boarded at Tappington, Bedded at Wappington. Fore me, a dainty derived Gipsy. But I pray sir, if a man might ask on you, how came your Captain's place first to be called the Devills-arse. For that take my word, We have a record, That doth it afford, And says our first Lord, Cocklorrell he height, On a time did invite The Devil to a feast; The tail of the jest, Though since it be long, Lives yet in a song; Which if you would hear, Shall plainly appear. I'll call in my Clerk Shall sing like a Lark, Come in my long shark, With thy face brown and dark; With thy tricks, and thy toys, Make a merry merry noise, To those mad Country boys, And chant out the fart of the Grand-devils arse. Cocklorrell, would needs have the Devil his guest, And bade him once into the Peake to dinner, Where never the Fiend had such a feast, Provided him yet at the charge of a sinner. His stomach was queasy (for coming there Coached), The jogging had caused some crudities rise; To help it he called for a Puritan poached, That used to turn up the egg's of his eyes. And so recovered unto his wish, He sat him down, and he fell to eat; Promoter in plum-broth was the first dish, His own privy kitchen had no such meat. Yet though with this he much were taken Upon a sudden he shifted his trencher As soon as he spied the Bawd, and bacon, By which you may note the devil's a wencher. Six pickled Tailors sliced and cut, Sempsters, Tire-women, fit for his pallat; With Feathermen, and perfumes put, Some twelve in a Charger to make a grand salad: A rich fat Usurer stewed in his marrow, And by him a Lawyer's head and green-sawce; Both which his belly took in like a barrow, As if till than he had never seen sauce. Than Carbonadoed, and Cooked with pains, Was brought up a cloven Sergeant's face; The sauce was made of his Yeamans brains, That had been beaten out with his own mace. Two roasted Sheriffs came whole to the board; (The feast had nothing been without 'em) Both living, and dead, they were foxed, and fu'rd, Their chains like sausages hung about 'em. The very next dish, was the Mayor of a Town, With a pudding of maintenance thrust in his belly; Like a Goose in the feathers dressed in his gown, And his couple of Hinch-boyes boiled to a jelly.
nodes 795–863 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 13 of 18 in this edition
Length
507 words · 721 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T26 — Devils, hell and fiendscross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.673 (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)
EXcellent i'faith, a moſt reſtorative Gipſie, all's here agen; and yet by his learning of Legier-demaine, he would make us beleeve we had robb'd our ſelves. A Gipſie of qualitie beleeve it, and one of the Kings Gipſies; this a Drinke-alian, or a Drinke-braggatan? Aske him. The King has his noyſe of Gipſies, as well as of Bearwards, and other Minſtrells. What ſort or order of Gipſies, I pray ſir. A Flagon-fekian, A Devils-arſe-a Pekian; Borne firſt at Niglington, Bred up at Filchington, Boarded at Tappington, Bedded at Wappington. Fore me, a dainty deriv'd Gipſie. But I pray ſir, if a man might aske on you, how came your Captaines place firſt to be call'd the Devills-arſe. For that take my word, We have a record, That doth it afford, And ſayes our firſt Lord, Cocklorrell he hight, On a time did invite The Devill to a feaſt; The tayle of the jeaſt, Though ſince it be long, Lives yet in a ſong; Which if you would heare, Shall plainly appeare. Ile call in my Clarke Shall ſing like a Larke, Come in my long ſharke, With thy face browne and darke; With thy tricks, and thy toyes, Make a merry merry noyſe, To thoſe mad Country boyes, And chant out the fart of the Grand-devils arſe. COck-lorrell, would needs have the Devill his gueſt, And bad him once into the Peake to dinner, Where never the Fiend had ſuch a feaſt, Provided him yet at the charge of a ſinner. His ſtomacke was queaſie (for comming there Coacht), The jogging had cauſ'd ſome crudities riſe; To helpe it he call'd for a Puritan poacht, That uſed to turne up the egg's of his eyes. And ſo recover'd unto his wiſh, He ſate him downe, and he fell to eate; Promooter in plum-broth was the firſt diſh, His owne privie kitchin had no ſuch meate. Yet though with this he much were taken Vpon a ſudden he ſhifted his trencher As ſoone as he ſpi'd the Bawd, and bacon, By which you may note the devill's a wencher. Sixe pickl'd Taylors ſliced and cut, Sempſters, Tyrewomen, fit for his pallat; With Feathermen, and perfumes put, Some twelve in a Charger to make a grand ſallet: A rich fat Vſurer ſtu'd in his marrow, And by him a Lawyers head and green-ſawce; Both which his belly tooke in like a barrow, As if till then he had never ſeene ſawce. Then Carbonadoed, and Cook't with paines, Was brought up a cloven Serjants face; The ſauce was made of his Yeamans braines, That had beene beaten out with his owne mace. Two roaſted Sheriffes came whole to the board; (The feaſt had nothing beene without 'em) Both living, and dead, they were foxt, and fu'rd, Their chaines like ſawſages hung about 'em. The very next diſh, was the Mayor of a Towne, With a pudding of maintenance thruſt in his belly; Like a Gooſe in the feathers dreſt in his gowne, And his couple of Hinch-boyes boyld to a jelly.