Wilson, Robert · published 1594 · first performed or written 1590 [c.1589-1593] (Annals) moral · Queen Elizabeth's Men (?) T36 Hell, Furies and the language of punishm typicality 0.76 · 498 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T36: hell, earth, gods, death, ghosts, blood, bloody, heaven, night, ghost.
Over Styx I and over stones, Here's a question for the nonce, Why what art thou I pray thee tell? Why Charon ferry-man of hell. Why what a devil do I with thee? Three or four within: A boat, a boat, a boat. Hark what a coil they keep, come if thou wilt to hell with me. A boat, a boat, a boat. This should be the voice of a woman, comes women thither too. why men & women every hour, I know not what to do. A Boat, a Boat, a Boat. This should be the voice of some great man. Why Popes and Prelates, Princes and judges more than I number can, But the covetous misers they fret me to the gall, I think they bring their money to hell, For they weigh the devil and all. Mas and may well be, for there's little money stirring on the earth. Charon a boat, a boat, I'll pay thee well for thy hire. Why what art thou that mak'st such haste? The Ghost of a grey Friar. So troubled with Nuns as never Friar was, Therefore good Charon let me be first, That over the Ford shall pass. Come sirrah, thou hearst what a calling they keep wilt thou go? Why Charon this calling makes thee mad I guess, Why I am no spirit but living Raph, And God Markedy sends me of business. Tush, if thou be sent of God, we cannot hold thee farewell. Yet gentle Charon carry me? Thee? Why what art thou, that living suest to go to hell? The wretchedst man of wretches most that in this wretched world doth dwell: Despised, disdained, starved, whipped and scorned, priest through despair myself to quell, I therefore covet to behold if greater torment be in hell: All the voices, A boat, a boat, a boat. I come, I come. Nay I prithee let them tarry and hearken to the poor. Codrus I cannot help thee now, and yet I wish thee well, There's scarcely room enough for rich, So that no poor can come to hell. But when the ditch is digged down as clean as is the wall That parted hell and purgatory, then if thou chance to call: Because I see as thou art poor thou art impatient, To carry thee quickly unto hell Codrus I'll be content. And now the time will not be long, for there's commission gone For workmen, that have power to make Elysium & Limbo one, And there are shipwrights sent for too, to build me up a bigger boat, A boat said I? nay a whole hulk: And that the same may safely float, Cocytus, Lethe, Phlegecon Shall all be digged into Styx: For where one wont to come to hell, I tell thee now comes five or six. For ignorance that wont to be, Is wilful blindness now become. So thou must come when room is made, I tell thee yet there is no room.
seed 43: T32 · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Ouer stix I and ouer stones, Heres a question for the nonce, VVhy what art thou I pray thee tell? VVhy Charon Ferriman of hell. VVhy what a diuel doo I with thee? Three or foure vvithin: A boate, a boate, a boate. Harke what a coile they keepe, come if thou wilt to hell with mee. A boate, a boate, a boate. This should bee the voice of a woman, comes women thither too. why men & women euery houre, I know not what to do. A Boate, a Boate, a Boate. This should be the voice of some great man. VVhy Popes and Prelates, Princes and Iudges more than I number can, But the couetous misers they fret me to the gall, I thinke they bring their money to hell, For they way the diuel and all. Mas and may well be, for theres little money stirring on the earth. Charon a boate, a boate, Ile pay thee well for thy hire. VVhy what art thou that makst such hast? The Ghost of a gray Frier. So troubled with Nunnes as neuer Frier was, Therefore good Charon let me be first, That ouer the Foord shall pas. Come sirra, thou hearst what a calling they keep wilt thou goe? VVhy Charon this calling makes thee mad I gesse, VVhy I am no spirite but liuing Raph, And God Markedie sends me of busines. Tush, if thou be sent of God, we cannot hold thee farewel. Yet gentle Charon carrie mee? Thee? VVhy what art thou, that liuing suest to go to hell? The wretchedst man of wretches most that in this wretched world doth dwell: Dispisde, disdainde, starude, whipt and scornd, Prest through dispaire my sefe to quell, I therefore couet to behold if greater torment be in hell: All the voices, A bote, a bote, a bote. I come, I come. Nay I prethee let them tarrie and harken to the pore. Codrus I cannot helpe thee now, and yet I wish thee wel, Theres scarcely roome enough for rich, So that no pore can come to hell. But when the ditch is digged downe as cleane as is the wall That parted hel and purgatorie, then if thou chaunce to cal: Because I see as thou art pore thou art impatient, To carry thee quickly vnto hell Codrus le be content. And now the time will not bee long, for thers commission gone▪ For workemē, that haue power to make Elysium & Limbo one, And there are shipwrights sent for too, to build me vp a bigger bote, A bote said I? nay awhole hulke: And that the same may safely flote, Cocytus, Lethe, Phlegecon Shal al be digged into Styx: For where one wont to come to hell, I tel thee now comes fiue or sixe. For ignorance that wont to be, Is wilful blindnes now become. So thou must come when roome is made, I tel thee yet there is no roome.