Greene, Robert · published 1630 · first performed or written 1589 [1586-1590] (Annals) comedy · Queen Elizabeth's Men T26 Devils, hell and fiends typicality 0.89 · 511 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T26: devil, hell, devils, sure, soul, fiend, sr, wife, lord, men.
A Scholar, quoth you, marry sir, I would I had been made a bottle-maker, when I was made a scholar; for I can get neither to be a Deacon, Reader, nor Schoolmaster; no, not the clerk of a Parish; some call me dunce: another saith, my head is as full of Latin, as an egg's full of oatmeal: thus I am tormented, that the Devil and Friar Bacon haunts me. Good Lord, here's one of my master's Devils I'll go speak to him: what master Plutus, how cheer you? Dost thou know me? Know you, sir, why are not you one of my master's Devils, that were wont to come to my master Doctor Bacon, at Brazen-nose? Yes marry am I. Good Lord, M. Plutus, I have seen you a thousand times at my masters, and yet I had never the manners to make you drink; but sir, I am glad to see how conformable you are to the state; I warrant you, he's as yeomanly a man, as you shall see, mark you masters, here's a plain honest man, without welt or guard; but I pray you sir, do you come lately from hell? I marry, how then? Faith, 'tis a place I have desired long to see, have you not good tippling houses there? may not a man have a lusty fire there, a pot of good Ale, a pair of cards, a swinging piece of chalk, and a brown toast that will clap a white waistcoat on a cup of good drink? All this you may have there. You are for me, friend, and I am for you: but I pray you, may I not have an office there? Yes, a thousand: what wouldst thou be? By my troth, sir, in a place, where I may profit myself. I know hell is a hot place, and men are marvelous dry, and much drink is spent there; I would be a Tapster. Thou shalt, There's nothing lets me from going with you, but that 'tis a long journey, and I have never a horse. Thou shalt ride on my back. Now surely here's a courteous devil, that for to pleasure his friend, will not stick to make a jade of himself: but I pray you goodman friend, let me move a question to you. What's that? I pray you, whether is your pace a trot or an amble? An amble. 'tis well, but take heed it be not a trot, But 'tis no matter, I'll prevent it. What dost? marry, friend, I put on my spurs: for if I find your pace either a trot, or else uneasy, I'll put you to a false gallop, I'll make you feel the benefit of my spurs. Get up upon my back. Oh Lord, here's even a goodly marvel, when a man rides to hell on the Devils back. Great Potentates, earth's miracles for state, Think that Prince Edward humbles at your feet, And for these favours on his martial sword, He vows perpetual homage to yourselves, Yielding these honours unto Eleanor.
Other edition — placed after the fit, excluded from the main statistics
Position
nodes 1748–1776 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 32 of 33 in this edition
Length
511 words · 680 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T26 — Devils, hell and fiendscross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.887 (cosine to the topic centroid) · placed after the fit (approximate_predict), not counted in the topic statistics
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)
A Scholler, quoth you, mary ſir, I would I had been made a bottle-maker, when I was made a ſcholler; for I can get neither to be a Deacon, Reader, nor Schoole-maſter; no, not the Clarke of a Pariſh; ſome call me dunce: another ſaith, my head is as full of Latine, as an eg's full of oate-meale: thus I am tormented, that the Deuill and Frier Bacon haunts me. Good Lord, here's one of my maſters Deuils▪ Ile goe ſpeake to him: what maſter Plutus, how cheere you? Dooſt thou know me? Know you, ſir, why are not you one of my maſters Deuils, that were wont to come to my maſter Doctor Bacon, at Brazen-noſe? Yes mary am I. Good Lord, M. Plutus, I haue ſeene you a thouſand times at my maſters, and yet I had neuer the manners to make you drinke; but ſir, I am glad to ſee how conformable you are to the ſtate; I warrant you, he's as yeomanly a man, as you ſhall ſee, marke you maſters, here's a plain honeſt man, without welt or gard; but I pray you ſir, doe you come lately from hell? I mary, how then? Faith, tis a place I haue deſired long to ſee, haue you not good tippling houſes there? may not a man haue a luſty fire there, a pot of good Ale, a paire of cardes, a ſwinging peece of chalke, and a browne toaſt that will clap a white waſtcoat on a cup of good drinke? All this you may haue there. You are for me, friend, and I am for you: but I pray you, may I not haue an office there? Yes, a thouſand: what wouldſt thou be? By my troth, ſir, in a place, where I may profit my ſelfe. I know hell is a hot place, and men are maruellous dry, and much drinke is ſpent there; I would be a Tapſter. Thou ſhalt, There's nothing lets me from going with you, but that tis a long iourney, and I haue neuer a horſe. Thou ſhalt ride on my backe. Now ſurely here's a courteous deuill, that for to pleaſure his friend, will not ſticke to make a Iade of himſelfe: but I pray you goodman friend, let me moue a queſtion to you. What's that? I pray you, whether is your pace a trot or an amble? An amble. Tis well, but take heed it be not a trot, But tis no matter, Ile preuent it. What doeſt? Mary, friend, I put on my ſpurs: for if I find your pace either a trot, or elſe vneaſie, Ile put you to a falſe gallop, Ile make you feele the benefit of my ſpurs. Get vp vpon my backe. Oh Lord, here's euen a goodly maruell, when a man rides to hell on the Deuils backe. Great Potentates, earths miracles for ſtate, Thinke that Prince Edward humbles at your feet, And for theſe fauours on his martiall ſword, He vowes perpetuall homage to your ſelues, Yeelding theſe honours vnto Ellinour.