Jonson, Ben · published 1616 · first performed or written 1601 (Annals) comedy · Children of the Chapel (second) unassigned nearest T36 Hell, Furies and the language of punishm · 506 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T36: hell, earth, gods, death, ghosts, blood, bloody, heaven, night, ghost.
I hear, you'll bring me o' the stage there; you'll play me, they say: I shall be presented by a sort of copper-laced scoundrels of you: life of PLUTO, and you stage me, stinkard; your mansions shall sweat for't, your tabernacles, varlets, your Globes, and your Triumphs. Not we, by PHOEBUS, Captain: do not do us imputation without desert. I will not, my good twopenny rascal: reach me thy neufe. Dost hear? What wilt thou give me a week, for my brace of beagles, here, my little point-trussers? you shall ha' them act among ye. Sirrah, you, pronounce. Thou shalt hear him speak, in king Darius' doleful strain. O doleful days! O direful deadly dump! O wicked world! and worldly wickedness! How can I hold my fist from crying, thump, In rue of this right rascal wretchedness! In an amorous vain now, sirrah, peace. O, she is wilder, and more hard, withal, Then beast, or bird, or tree, or stony wall. Yet might she love me, to uprear her state: ay, but perhaps, she hopes some nobler mate. Yet might she love me, to content her sire: ay, but her reason masters her desire. Yet might she love me as her beauty's thrall: ay, but I fear, she cannot love at all. Now, the horrible fierce Soldier, you, sirrah. What? will I brave thee? ay, and beard thee too. A roman spirit scorns to bear a brain, So full of base pusillanimity. Excellent. Nay, thou shalt see that, shall ravish thee anon: prick up thine ears, stinkard: the Ghost, boys. Vindicta. Timoria. Vindicta. Timoria. Veni. Veni. Now, thunder, sirrah, you, the rumbling player. ay, but somebody must cry (murder) then, in a small voice. Your fellow-sharer, there, shall do't; Cry, sirrah, cry. Murder, murder. Who calls out murder? lady, was it you? O, admirable good, I protest. Sirrah, boy, brace your drum a little straighter, and do the tother fellow there, he in the— what sha' call him— and yet, stay too. Nay, and thou dalliest, than I am thy foe, And fear shall force, what friendship cannot win; Thy death shall bury what thy life conceals, Villain! thou diest, for more respecting her— O, stay my Lord. Then me: yet speak the truth, and I will guerdon thee: But if thou dally once again, thou diest. Enough of this, boy. Why then lament therefore: damned be thy guts unto king Pluto's hell, and princely EREBUS; for sparrows must have food. Pray, sweet Captain, let one of them do a little of a lady. O! he will make thee eternally enamoured of him, there: do, sirrah, do: 'twill allay your fellows fury a little. Master, mock on: the scorn thou givest me, Pray JOVE, some lady may return on thee. No: you shall see me do the Moore: Master, lend me your scarf a little. Here, 'tis at thy service, boy. You, master MINOS, hark hither a little. How dost like him? art not rapt? art not tickled now? dost not applaud, rascal? dost not applaud?
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)
I heare, you'll bring me o' the stage there; you'll play me, they say: I shall be presented by a sort of copper-lac't scoundrels of you: life of PLVTO, and you stage me, stinkard; your mansions shall sweat for't, your tabernacles, varlets, your Globes, and your Triumphs. Not we, by PHOEBVS, Captaine▪ doe not doe vs imputation without desert. I wu' not, my good two-penny rascall: reach mee thy neufe. Do'st heare? What wilt thou giue mee a weeke, for my brace of beagles, here, my little point-trussers? you shall ha' them act among yee. Sirrah, you, pronounce. Thou shalt heare him speake, in king DARIVS dolefull straine. O dolefull dayes! O direfull deadly dump! O wicked world! and worldly wickednesse! How can I hold my fist from crying, thump, In rue of this right rascall wretchednesse! In an amorous vaine now, sirrah, peace. O, shee is wilder, and more hard, withall, Then beast, or bird, or tree, or stonie wall. Yet might shee loue me, to vpreare her state: I, but perhaps, shee hopes some nobler mate. Yet might shee loue me, to content her sire: I, but her reason masters her desire. Yet might shee loue me as her beauties thrall: I, but I feare, shee cannot loue at all. Now, the horrible fierce Souldier, you, sirrah. What? will I braue thee? I, and beard thee too. A roman spirit scornes to beare a braine, So full of base pusillanimitie. Excellent. Nay, thou shalt see that, shall rauish thee anon: prick vp thine eares, stinkard: the Ghost, boies. Vindicta. Timoria. Vindicta. Timoria. Veni. Veni. Now, thunder, sirrah, you, the rumbling plaier. I, but some bodie must crie (murder) then, in a small voice. Your fellow-sharer, there, shall do't; Crie, sirrah, crie. Murder, murder. Who calls out murder? lady, was it you? O, admirable good, I protest. Sirrah, boy, brace your drumme a little straighter, and doe the t'other fellow there, hee in the— what sha' call him— and yet, stay too. Nay, and thou dalliest, then I am thy foe, And feare shall force, what friendship cannot win; Thy death shall burie what thy life conceales, Villaine! thou diest, for more respecting her— O, stay my Lord. Then me: yet speake the truth, and I will guerdon thee: But if thou dally once againe, thou diest. Enough of this, boy. Why then lament therefore: damn'd be thy guts vnto king PLVTOES hell, and princely EREBVS; for sparrowes must haue foode. 'Pray, sweet Captaine, let one of them doe a little of a ladie. O! he will make thee eternally enamour'd of him, there: doe, sirrah, doe: 'twill allay your fellowes furie a little. Master, mocke on: the scorne thou giuest me, Pray IOVE, some lady may returne on thee. No: you shall see mee doe the Moore: Master, lend mee your scarfe a little. Here, 'tis at thy seruice, boy. You, master MINOS, harke hither a little. How do'st like him? art not rapt? art not tickled now? do'st not applaud, rascall? do'st not applaud?