Shirley, James · published 1640 · first performed or written 1640 (Annals) not in BritDrama · Ogilby's Men unassigned nearest T5 Christian faith, sin and salvation · 466 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T5: god, christ, david, sin, holy, israel, lord, mercy, sins, faith.
Ha, Archimagus, canst thou forgive me, And send those spirits hence? I can, great Sir, You troubled Spirits, I command you leave The much distracted King; return and speedily, To sleep within the bosom of the sea, Which the king's wrath, and your sad fates assigned ye; And as you move to your expecting monument The waves again, no frown appear upon you, But glide away in peace. We do obey Great Priest, and vanish. Are they gone Fedella? They talk of woman's wit at a dead lift, This was above our brains I love him for't And wish myself in's arms now to reward him, I should find him no ghost a'my conscience: But where shall we meet next. Let us away. Art sure they are gone Archimagus? my fears So leave me, and religion once again Enter my stubborn heart, which dared to mutiny And quarrel with the gods; Archimagus, Be near again, we will redeem our rashness, By grubbing up these Christians, that begin To infect us, and our kingdom. This becomes you, And if you please to hear me, I dare promise The speedy ruin of them all. thouart borne To make us happy, how my dear Archimagus? This Island Sir is full of dangerous serpents, Of toads, and other venomous destroyers: I will from every province of this kingdom Summon these killing creatures to devour him, My prayer and power of the gods, fear not, Will do't, by whom inspired I prophesy Patrick's destruction. I embrace my Priest, Do this, and I'll forget my son, and die, And smile to see this Christians tragedy. So, so, we are like to have a fine time on't, we may get more by every Christian we have the grace to catch, than by three months' pay against our natural enemies. And their noddles be so precious, would all my kindred were Christians; I would not leave a head to wag upon a shoulder of our generation, from my mother's sucking pig at her nipple, to my great grandfathers Coshering in the pease straw. How did that fellow look whose throat we cut last? Basely, and like a Christian, would the fellow they call Patrick had been in his place, we had been made for ever. Now are we of the condition of some great men in office, that desire execution of the Laws, not so much to correct offences and reform the common wealth, as to thrive by their punishment and grow rich and fat with a lean conscience. But I have walked, and talked myself a hungry, prithee open the secrets of thy knapsack, before we build any more projects; let's see what store of belly timber we have. Good, very good Pagan food: sit down and let our stomachs confer a while.
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)
Ha, Archimagus, canst thou forgive me, And send those spirits hence? I can, great Sir, You troubled Spirits, I command you leave The much distracted King; returne and speedily, To sleepe within the bosome of the sea, Which the kings wrath, and your sad fates assign'd yee; And as you move to your expecting monument The waves agen, no frowne appeare upon you, But glide away in peace. We do obey Great Priest, and vanish. Are they gone Fedella? They talk of womans wit at a dead lift, This was above our braines I love him for't And wish my self i's armes now to reward him, I should finde him no ghost a'my conscience: But where shall we meete next. Let us away. Art sure they are gone Archimagus? my feares So leave me, and religion once agen Enter my stubborne heart, which dar'd to mutinie And quarrell with the gods; Archimagus, Be neere agen, we will redeeme our rashnesse, By grubbing up these Christians, that begin To infect us, and our kingdome. This becomes you, And if you please to heare me, I dare promise The speedy ruine of them all. Th'art borne To make us happy, how my deere Archimagus? This Iland Sir is full of dangerous serpents, Of toads, and other venomous destroyers: I will from every province of this kingdome Summon these killing creatures to devoure him, My prayer and power of the gods, feare not, Will doo't, by whom inspir'd I prophesie Patricks destruction. I embracemy Priest, Do this, and I'll forget my sonne, and die, And smile to see this Christians tragedie. So, so, we are like to have a fine time on't, we may get more by every Christian we have the grace to catch, than by three moneths pay against our naturall enemies. And thir noddles be so precious, would all my kindred were Christians; I would not leave a head to wag upon a shoulder of our generation, from my mothers sucking pig at her nipple, to my great grandfathers Coshering in the pease straw. How did that fellow looke whose throat we cut last? Basely, and like a Christian, would the fellow they call Patrick had been in his place, we had been made for ever. Now are we of the condition of some great men in office, that desire execution of the Lawes, not so much to correct offences and reforme the common wealth, as to thrive by their punishment and grow rich and fat with a leane conscience. But I have walk'd, and talk'd my selfe a hungry, prethee open the secrets of thy knapsacke, before we build any more projects; lets see what store of belly timber we have. Good, very good Pagan food: sit downe and let our stomackes conferre a while.