Dekker, Thomas · published 1607 · first performed or written 1606 [c.1606-1607] (Annals) history; allegory · Prince Henry's Men T55 Fairies, fairy queens and enchanted desi typicality 0.79 · 499 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T55: fairy, fairies, oberon, mopsus, queen, land, grace, babylon, mab, thestylis.
She is so; she's that damned sorceress, That keeps the enchanted towers of Babylon. This is the Truth, that did bewitch thee once. Is this speckled toad she? She was then in mine eye, The goodliest woman that ever wore fore part of Satin: To see what these female creatures are, when they deal with 2. or 3. Nations; how quickly they were carbuncles & rich stones? now she is more ugly than a bawd. She looked so then; fairness itself doth clothe her In men's eyes, till they see me, and then they loathe her. lose no more minutes, come, le's follow them. With hue and cry, now I know her: this villainous drab is bawd, now I remember, to the Whore of Babylon; and we'll never leave her, till she be carted: her face is full of those red pimples with drinking Aquavite, the common drink of all bawds: come. What comes this paper for? Your hand. The cause? The Moon that from your beams did borrow light, Hath from her silver bow shot pitchy clouds T'ecclipse your brightness: heaven took your part, And her surprised; A jury of bright stars, Have her unworthy found to shine again: Your Fairies therefore on their knees entreat, She may be pulled out from the firmament, Where she was placed to glitter. Must we then, Strike those whom we have loved? albeit the children, Whom we have nourished at our princely breast, Set daggers to it, we could be content To chide, not beat them (might we use our will,) Our hand was made to save, but not to kill. You must not ('cause he's noble) spare his blood. We should not, for he's noble that is good. The fall of one, like multitudes on ye, Makes all the rest, (of footing) be more nice: But if by venturing on that glassy floor Too far, he sinks, and yet rise with no more harm, Ten thousand to like danger it doth arm: All mercy in a Prince, makes vile the state, All justice makes even cowards desperate. In neither of these seas, spread we our sails, But are the impartial beam between both scales; Yet if we needs must bow, we would incline To that where mercy lies, that scale's divine: But so to save were our own breast to wound, Nay (which is more) our peoples: for their good, We must the Surgeon play, and let out blood. Every Peers birth sticks a new star in heaven, But falling by Luciferan insolence, With him a Constellation drops from thence. Give me his Axe— how soon the blow is given? writes Witness: so little we in blood delight, That doing this work, we wish we could not write. Let's walk my Lords. Florimell? Madame. Stay: Not one armed man amongst us? you might now Be all old-beaten soldiers: truth I thank ye; If I were now a jewel worth the stealing, Two thieves might bind you all. With much ado.
seed 43: T50 · seed 44: T47 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Shee is so; shee's that damned sorceresse, That keepes the inchanted towers of Babylon. This is the Truth, that did bewitch thee once. Is this speckled toade shee? Shee was then in mine eye, The goodliest woman that euer wore fore part of Sattin: To see what these female creatures are, when they deale with 2. or 3. Nations; how quickly they were carbules & rich stones? now shee is more vgly then a bawd. Shee look'd so then; fairenes it selfe doth cloth her In mens eyes, till they see me, and then they loath her. Loose no more minutes, come, lets follow them. With hue and crie, now I know her: this villanous drab is bawd, now I remember, to the Whore of Babylon; and weele neuer leaue her, till shee be carted: her face is full of those red pimples with drinking Aquauite, the common drinke of all bawdes: come. What comes this paper for? Your hand. The cause? The Moone that from your beames did borrow light, Hath from her siluer bow shot pitchy clowds T'ecclipse your brightnes: heauen tooke your part, And her surpriz'd; A jurie of bright starres, Haue her vnworthy found to shine agen: Your Fairies therefore on their knees intreat, Shee may be puld out from the firmament, Where shee was plac'd to glitter. Must we then, Strike those whom we haue lou'd? albeit the children, Whom we haue nourisht at our princely breast, Set daggers to it, we could be content To chide, not beat them (might we vse our will,) Our hand was made to saue, but not to kill. You must not (cause hee's noble) spare his blood. We should not, for hee's noble that is good. The fall of one, like multitudes on yee, Makes all the rest, (of footing) be more nyce: But if by ventring on that glassie floore Too farre, he sinks, and yet rise with no more harme, Ten thousand to like danger it doth arme: All mercy in a Prince, makes vile the state, All justice makes euen cowards desperate. In neither of these seas, spread we our sayles, But are the impartiall beame between both scales; Yet if we needs must bow, we would incline To that where mercy lies, that scale's diuine: But so to saue were our owne breast to wound, Nay (which is more) our peoples: for their good, We must the Surgeon play, and let out blood. Euery Peeres birth stickes a new starre in heauen, But falling by Luciseran insolence, With him a Constellation drops from thence. Giue me his Axe—how soon the blow is giuen? writes Witnesse: so little we in blood delight, That doing this worke, we wish we could not write. Let's walke my Lords. Florimel? Madame. Stay: Not one arm'd man amongst vs? you might now Be all old-beaten souldiers: truth I thanke ye; If I were now a jewel worth the stealing, Two theeues might bind you all. With much adoe.