Lingua, or The Combat of the Tongue and the Five Senses for Superiority · chunk 50 of 51
Tomkis, Thomas · published 1607 · first performed or written 1607 [1602-1607] (Annals) comedy; allegory T3 Sickness, physic and doctors typicality 0.73 · 514 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T3: doctor, master, cure, disease, pray, physic, physician, mr, sick, lady.
O are you come Acrasia? welcome, welcome, boy reach a Cushion sit down good 〈◊〉? I am so beholding to you, your potion wrought exceedingly, the senses were so mad, did not you see how they raged about the woods? Hum, Acrasia? is Acrasia her confederate? my life that witch hath wrought some villainy,— how's this? is she a sleep? have you seen one walk thus before? It is a very common thing, I have seen many sick of the Peripatetic disease. By the same token my Lord, I knew one that went abroad in his sleep, bend his bow, shot at a Magpie, killed her, fetched his arrow, came home, locked the doors, and went to bed again. What should be the reason of it? I remember 〈◊〉 told me the reason once, as I think thus: The nerves that carry the moving faculty, from the brains, to the thighs, legs, feet, and arms, are wider far than the other nerves, wherefore they are not so easily stopped with the vapours of sleep, but are night and day ready to perform what fancy shall command them. It may be so, but Phantastes inquire more of Acrasia. What did you with the potion Acrasia made you: Gave it to the Senses, and made them as mad as— well, If I cannot recover it— let it go, I'll not leave them thus. Boy a wake the Senses there. Ho, ho, Auditus, up, up, so ho, Olfactus have at your nose, up Visus, Gustus, Tactus, up: What can you not feel a pinch? have at you with a pin. Oh, you stab me, oh, Tactus, know you how you came hither: No my Lord, not I, this I remember, We supped with Gustus, and had wine good store, Where of I think I tasted liberally. Amongst the rest, we drunk a composition, Of a most delicate, and pleasant relish, That made our brains, somewhat irregular. My Lord, here's a fat rascal was lurking in a bush very suspiciously, his name he says is Crapula. Sirrah, speak quickly what you know of these troubles, Nothing my Lord, but that the Senses were mad, and that Somnus at my request laid them asleep, in hope to recover them. Why then 'tis too evident, Acrasia at Lingua's request, bewitched the Senses, wake her quickly Heuresis. Heigh ho, out alas, ay me, where am I? how came I here? where am I? ah. Lingua look not so strangely upon the matter, you have confessed in your sleep, that with a Crown, and a Robe, you have disturbed the Senses, using a crafty help to enrage them, can you deny it? Ay me, most miserable wretch, I beseech your Lordship forgive me. No, no, 'tis a fault unpardonable, In my conceit Lingua, you should seal up your lips, when you go to bed, these Feminine tongues be so glibbe. Visus, Tactus, and the rest, our former sentence concerning you, we confirm as irrevocable, and establish the Crown to you Visus, and the Robe to you Tactus, but as for you Lingua—
nodes 1943–1971 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 50 of 51 in this edition
Length
514 words · 733 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T3 — Sickness, physic and doctorscross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.732 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
seed 43: T3 · seed 44: T4 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
O are you come Acrasia? welcome, welcome, boy reach a Cushion sit downe good ? I am so beholding to you, your potion wrought exceedinglie, the senses were so mad, did not you see how they raged about the woods? Hum, Acra? is Acrasia her confederate? my life that witch hath wrought some villany,— how's this? is shee a sleepe? haue you seene one walke thus before? It is a very common thinge, I haue seene many sicke of the Peripatetick disease. By the same token my Lord, I knewe one that went abroad in his sleepe, bent his bowe, shot at a Magpie, kild her, fetcht his arrowe, came home, lockt the doores, and went to bed againe. What should be the reason of it? I remember told mee the reason once, as I thinke thus: The nerues that carrie the mouing faculty, from the braines, to the thighes, legges, feete, and armes, are wider farre then the other nerues, wherore they are not so easily stopt with the vapours of sleepe, but are night and daie ready to performe what fancy shall command them. It may bee so, but Phantastes enquire more of Acrasia. What did you with the potion Acrasia made you: Gaue it to the Senses, and made them as madde as—well, If I cannot recouer it—let it goe, Ile not leaue them thus. Boy a wake the Senses there. Hoe, hoe, Auditus, vp, vp, so hoe, Olfactus haue at your nose, vp Visus, Gustus, Tactus, vp: What can you not feele a pinch? haue at you with a pinne. Oh, you stab me, oh, Tactus, know you how you came hither: No my Lord, not I, this I remember, We sup't with Gustus, and had wine good store, Where of I thinke I tasted liberally. Amongst the rest, wee drunke a composition, Of a most dellicate, and pleasant rellish, That made our braynes, somewhat irregular. My Lord, here's a fat rascall was lurking in a bushe very suspitiously, his name he sayes is Crapula. Sirrah, speake quickly what you knowe of these troubles, Nothing my Lord, but that the Senses were madde, and that Somnus at my request layd them asleepe, in hope to recouer them. Why then tis too euident, Acrasia at Lingua's request, bewitcht the Senses, wake her quickly Heuresis. Heigh ho, out alas, aye mee, where am I? how came I here? where am I? ah. Ligua looke not so strangely vpon the matter, you haue confest in your sleepe, that with a Crowne, and a Roabe, you haue disturb'd te Senses, vsing a crafty helpe to enrage them, can you deny it? Aye mee, most miserable wretch, I beseech your Lordship forgiue me. No, no, tis a fault vnpardonable, In my conceipt Lingua, you should seale vp your lippes, when you go to bed, these Feminine tongues be so glibbe. Visus, Tactus, and the rest, our former sentence concerning you, wee confirme as irreuocable, and establish the Crowne to you Visus, and the Roabe to you Tactus, but as for you Lingua—