The Sad Shepherd, or A Tale of Robin Hood · chunk 15 of 19
Jonson, Ben · published 1641 · first performed or written 1637 [c.1612-1637] (Annals) not in BritDrama unassigned nearest T56 Magic, spells and conjuring · 483 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T56: magic, faustus, charms, charm, conjure, spirits, skill, ho, power, spells.
Yet like the Bees it had a little sting. And sunk, and sticks yet in my marrow deep And what doth hurt me, I now wish to keep. Alas, how innocent her Story is! I do remember, Marian, I have often With pleasure kissed my Lambs, and Puppies, soft, And once a dainty fine Roe-fawne I had, Of whose out-skipping bounds, I was as glad As of my health; and him I often would kiss: Yet had his, no such sting, or pain, as this. They never pricked or hurt my heart. And, for They were so blunt, and dull, I wish no more. But this, that hurts, and pricks doth please; This sweet, Mingled with sour, I wish again to meet: And that delay, me thinks, most tedious is That keeps, or hinders me of Karols kiss. we'll sand for him sweet Amie, to come to you. But, I will keep him of if Charms will do it. Do you mark the murmuring hag, how she doth mutter? I like her not. And less her manners now. She is a shrewd deformed piece, I vow. As crooked as her body. I believe She can take any Shape; as Scathlock says. She may deceive the Sense, but really She cannot change herself. Would I could see her, Once more in Marian's form! for I am certain Now, it was she abused us; as I think My Marian, and my Love, now, innocent: Which faith I seal unto her, with this kiss, And call you all to witness of my penance. It was believed before, but now confirmed, That we have seen the Monster. Hear you how Poor Tom, the Cook, is taken! All his joints Do crack, as if his Limbs were tied with points: His whole frame slackens; and a kind of rack Runs down along the Spondylls of his back; A Gout, or Cramp, now seizeth on his head, Than falls into his feet; his knees are lead; And he can stir his either hand, no more Than a dead stump, to his office, as before. He is bewitched. This is an Argument Both of her malice, and her power, we see. She must by some device restrained be, Or she'll go far in mischief. Advice how, Sage Shep'ard, we shall put it strait in practice. Sand forth your woodmen, than, into the walks, Or let'em prick her footing hence; A Witch Is sure a Creature of Melancholy, And will be found, or sitting in her form, Or else, at relief, like a Hare. You speak Alken, as if you knew the sport of Witch-hunting, Or starting of a Hag. Go sirs about it, Take George here with you, he can help to found her; Leave Tuck, and Much behind to dress the Dinner, I' the Cook's stead. we'll care to get that done. Come Marian, let's withdraw into the bower.
seed 43: T45 · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Yet like the Bees it had a little ſting. And ſunke, and ſticks yet in my marrow deepe And what doth hurt me, I now wiſh to keepe. Alas, how innocent her Storie is! I doe remember, Marian, I have oft With pleaſure kiſt my Lambes, and Puppies, ſoft, And once a daintie fine Roe-fawne I had, Of whoſe out-skipping bounds, I was as glad As of my health; and him I oft would kiſſe: Yet had his, no ſuch ſting, or paine, as this. They never prick't or hurt my heart. And, for They were ſo blunt, and dull, I wiſh no more. But this, that hurtes, and prickes doth pleaſe; This ſweet, Mingled with ſower, I wiſh againe to meet: And that delay, mee thinks, moſt tedious is That keepes, or hinders mee of Karols kiſſe. Wee'll ſend for him ſweet Amie, to come to you. But, I will keepe him of if Charmes will doe it. Doe you marke the murmuring hagge, how ſhee doth mutter? I like her not. And leſſe her manners now. Shee is a ſhrewd deformed peice, I vow. As crooked as her bodie. I beleeve Shee can take any Shape; as Scathlock ſaies. Shee may deceive the Senſe, but really Shee cannot change her ſelfe. Would I could ſee her, Once more in Marians forme! for I am certaine Now, it was ſhee abus'd us; as I think My Marian, and my Love, now, innocent: Which faith I ſeale unto her, with this kiſſe, And call you all to witneſſe of my pennance. It was beleiv'd before, but now confirm'd, That wee have ſeen the Monſter. Heare you how Poore Tom, the Cooke, is taken! All his joynts Do crack, as if his Limbes were tied with points: His whole frame ſlackens; and a kind of rack Runs downe along the Spondylls of his back; A Gowt, or Crampe, now ſeizeth on his head, Then falls into his feet; his knees are lead; And he can ſtirre his either hand, no more Then a dead ſtumpe, to his office, as before. Hee is bewitched. This is an Argument Both of her malice, and her power, wee ſee. Shee muſt by ſome device reſtrained bee, Or ſhee'll goe farre in miſchiefe. Adviſe how, Sage Shep'ard, wee ſhall put it ſtraight in practice. Send forth your woodmen, then, into the walkes, Or let'em prick her footing hence; A Witch Is ſure a Creature of Melancholy, And will be found, or ſitting in her fourme, Or els, at releife, like a Hare. You ſpeake Alken, as if you knew the ſport of Witch-hunting, Or ſtarting of a Hag. Go ſirs about it, Take George here with you, he can helpe to find her; Leave Tuck, and Much behind to dreſſe the Dinner, I' the Cookes ſtead. Wee'll care to get that done. Come Marian, lets withdraw into the bowre.