Dekker, Thomas / Webster, John · published 1607 · first performed or written 1604 (Annals) comedy · Children of Paul's (second) T26 Devils, hell and fiends typicality 0.80 · 514 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T26: devil, hell, devils, sure, soul, fiend, sr, wife, lord, men.
Fair! be not doubly masked: with that and night, Beauty (like gold) being used becomes more bright. will it please your Lordship to sit, I shall receive small pleasure if I see your Lordship stand. Witch, hag, what art thou proud damnation? A merchants wife. Fury who raised thee up, what com'st thou for! For a banquet. I am abused, deluded: Speak what art thou? Uds death speak, or i'll kill thee: in that habit I looked to find an Angel, but thy face, Shows thouart a Devil. My face is as God made it my Lord: I am no devil unless women be devils, but men find 'em not so, for they daily hunt for them. What art thou that dost cozen me thus? A merchants wife I say: Justiniano's wife. She, whom that long birding piece of yours, I mean that Wicked mother birdlime caught for your honour. Why my Lord, has your Lordship forgot how ye courted me last morning. The devil I did. Kissed me last morning. Succubus▪ not thee. Gave me this jewel last morning. Not to thee Harpy. To me upon mine honesty, swore you would build me a lodging by the Thames side with a watergate to it: or else take me a lodging in Coleharbour. I swore so. Or keep me in a Labyrinth as Harry kept Rosamond where the Minotaur my husband should not enter. I swore so, but Gipsie not to thee? To me upon my honour, hard was the siege, which you laid to the Crystal walls of my chastity, but I held out you know: but because I cannot be too stony hearted, I yielded my Lord, by this token my Lord (which token lies at my heart like lead) but by this token my Lord, that this night you should commit that sin which we all know with me. Thee? Do I look ugly, that you put thee upon me: did I give you my hand to horn my head, that's to say my husband, and is it come to thee: is my face a filthier face, now it is yours, then when it was his: or have I two faces under one hood. I confess I have laid mine eyes in brine, and that may change the copy. But my Lord I know what I am. A Sorceress, thou shalt witch mine ears no more, If thou canst pray, do't quickly for thou diest. I can pray but I will not die, thou liest: My Lord there drops your Lady; And now know, Thou unseasonable Lecher, I am her husband Whom thou wouldst make whore, read: she speaks there thus, Unless I came to her, her hand should free Her Chastity from blemish, proud I was Of her brave mind, I came, and seeing what slavery Poverty, and the frailty of her Sex Had, and was like to make her Subject to, I begged that she would die, my suit was granted, I poisoned her, thy lust there strikes her dead, horns feared, plague worse, than sticking on the head.
nodes 742–781 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 31 of 45 in this edition
Length
514 words · 671 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T26 — Devils, hell and fiendscross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.800 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: T23 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Fayre! be not doubly maskt: with that and night, Beautie (like gold) being vs'd becomes more bright. Wil it please your Lordship to it, I shal receiue smal pleasure if I see your Lordship stand. Witch, hag, what art thou proud damnation? A Marchants wife. Fury who raizd thee vp, what com'st thou for! For a banquet. I am abus'd, deluded: Speake what art thou? Vds death speake, or ile kil thee: in that habit I lookt to find an Angel, but thy face, Shewes th'art a Diuel. My fae is as God made it my Lord: I am no diuel vnlesse women be diuels, but men find em not so, for they daily hunte for them. What art thou that dost cozen me thus? A Marchants wife I say: Iustinianos wife. She, whome that long burding piece of yours, I meane that Wicked mother Birdlyme caught for your honor. Why my Lord, has your Lordshippe forgot how ye courted me last morning. The diuel I did. Kist me last morning. Succubus▪ not thee. Gaue me this Iewel last morning. Not to thee Harpy. To me vpon mine honestie, swore you would build me a lodging by the Thames side with a watergate to it: or els take mee a lodging in Cole-harbor. I swore so. Or keep me in a Laborinth as Harry kept Roamond wher the Minotaure my husband should not enter. I sware so, but Gipsie not to thee? To me vppon my honour, hard was the siege, which you laid to the Christal wals of my chastity, but I held out you know: but because I cannot bee too stony harted, I yeelded my Lord, by this token my Lord (which token lies at my heart like lead) but by this token my Lord, that this night you should commit that sinne which we al know with me. The? Do I looke vgly, that you put thee vppon me: did I giue you my hand to horne my head, thats to say my husband, and is it com to thee: is my face a filthy face, now it is yours, then when it was his: or haue I two faces vnder one hoode. I confesse I haue laid mine eyes in brine, and that may chaunge the coppy. But my Lord I know what I am. A Sorcerese, thou shalt witch mine eares no more, If thou canst pray, doot quickly for thou diest. I can praie but I will not die, thou liest: My Lord there drops your Ladie; And now know, Thou vnseasonable Lecher, I am her husband Whom thou wouldst make whore, read: she speakes there thus, Vnlesse I came to her, her hand shoud free Her Chastitie from blemish, proud I was Of her braue mind, I came, and seeing what slauerie Pouertie, and the fraitie of her Sex Hd, and was like to make her Subiect to, I begd that she would die, my suite was granted, I poison'd her, thy lust there strikes her dead, Hornes feard, plague worse, than sticking on the head.