Jonson, Ben · published 1600 · first performed or written 1599 (Annals) comedy · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men T5 Christian faith, sin and salvation typicality 0.76 · 472 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T5: god, christ, david, sin, holy, israel, lord, mercy, sins, faith.
NAy my dear Asper, Stay your mind, Away. Who is so patient of this impious world, That he can check his spirit, or rain his tongue? Or who hath such a dead unfeeling sense, That heavens horrid thunders cannot wake? To see the earth, cracked with the weight of sin, Hell gaping under us, and o'er our heads Black ravenous Ruin with her sail-stretched wings, Ready to sink us down and cover us. Who can behold such prodigies as these, And have his lips sealed up? not I: my soul Was never ground into such oily colours, To flatter Vice and daub Iniquity: But (with an armed, and resolved hand) I'll strip the ragged follies of the time Naked as at their birth: Be not too bold, You trouble me, and with a whip of steel Print wounding lashes in their iron ribs. I fear no mood stamped in a private brow, When I am pleased t'unmask a public vice. I fear no strumpets drugs, nor ruffians stab, Should I detect their hateful luxuries; No brokers, usurers, or lawyers gripe, Were I disposed to say, they're all corrupt. I fear no courtiers frown, should I applaud The easy flexure of his supple hams: Tut, these are so innate and popular, That drunken Custom would not shame to laugh (In scorn) at him, that should but dare to tax 'em: And yet, not one of these but knows his works, Knows what Damnation is, the Devil, and Hell, Yet hourly they persist, grow rank in sin, Puffing their souls away in perjurious air, To cherish their extortion, pride, or lusts. Forbear good Asper, be not like your name. O, but to such, whose faces are all zeal, And (with the words of Hercules) invade Such crimes as these; that will not smell of sin, But seem as they were made of Sanctity; Religion in their garments, and their hair Cut shorter than their eyebrows; when the conscience Is vaster than the Ocean, and devours More wretches than the Counters. Gentle Asper, Contain your spirit in more stricter bounds, And be not thus transported with the violence Of your strong thoughts. unless your breath had power To melt the world, and mould it new again, It is in vain to spend it in these moods. I not observed this thronged round till now: Gracious, and kind Spectators, you are welcome, Apollo, and the muse's feast your eyes With graceful objects; and may our Minerva Answer your hopes, unto their largest strain. Yet here, mistake me not judicious friends: I do not this to beg your patience, Or servilely to fawn on your applause, Like some dry brain, despairing in his merit: Let me be censured, by th'austerest brow, Where I want art, or judgement, tax me freely: Let envious Critics with their broadest eyes
seed 43: T4 · seed 44: T5 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
NAy my deere Asper, Stay your mind, Away. VVho is so patient of this impious world, That he can checke his spirit, or reine his tongue? Or who hath such a dead vnfeeling sence, That heauens horride thunders cannot wake? To see the earth, crackt with the weight of sinne, Hell gaping vnder vs, and o're our heads Blacke rau'nous Ruine with her saile-stretcht wings, Readie to sinke vs downe and couer vs. VVho can behold such prodigies as these, And haue his lips seal'd vp? not I: my soule VVas neuer ground into such oyly colours, To flatter Vice and daube Iniquitie: But (with an armed, and resolued hand) Ile strip the ragged follies of the time Naked as at their birth: Be not too bold, You trouble me, and with a whip of steele Print wounding lashes in their yron ribs. I feare no mood stampt in a private brow, VVhen I am pleas'd t'vnmaske a publicke vice. I feare no strumpets drugs, nor ruffians stab, Should I detect their hatefull luxuries; No brokers, vsurers, or lawyers gripe, VVere I dispos'd to say, they're all corrupt. I feare no courtiers frowne, should I applaud The easie flexure of his supple hammes: Tut, these are so innate and popular, That drunken Custome would not shame to laugh (In scorne) at him, that should but dare to taxe 'hem: And yet, not one of these but knowes his VVorkes, Knowes what Damnation is, the Deuill, and Hell, Yet howerly they persist, grow ranke in sinne, Puffing their soules away in perj'rous aire, To cherish their extortion, pride, or lusts. Forbeare good Asper, be not like your name. O, but to such, whose faces are all zeale, And (with the words of Hercules) invade Such crimes as these; that will not smell of sinne, But seeme as they were made of Sanctitie; Religion in their garments, and their haire Cut shorter than their eie-browes; when the conscience Is vaster than the Ocean, and deuours More wretches than the Counters. Gentle Asper, Containe your spirit in more stricter bounds, And be not thus transported with the violence Of your strong thoughts. Vnlsse your breath had power To melt the world, and mould it new againe, It is in vaine to spend it in these moods. I not obseru'd this thronged round till now: Gracious, and kind Spectators, you are welcome, Apollo, and the Muses feast your eies VVith gracefull obiects; and may our Minerva Answere your hopes, vnto their largest straine. Yet here, mistake me not judicious friends: I doe not this to beg your patience, Or servilely to fawne on your applause, Like some drie braine, despairing in his merit: Let me be censur'd, by th'austerest brow, VVhere I want art, or judgement, taxe me freely: Let envious Critickes with their broadest eies