Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1605 [1605-1606] (Annals) tragedy · King's Men unassigned nearest T26 Devils, hell and fiends · 494 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T26: devil, hell, devils, sure, soul, fiend, sr, wife, lord, men.
Fathom, and half, Fathom and half; poor Tom. Come not in here Nuncle, here's a spirit, help me, help me. Give me thy hand, who's there? A spirit, a spirit, he says his name's poor Tom. What art thou that dost grumble there i' th' straw? Come forth. Away, the foul Fiend follows me, through the sharp Hauthorne blow the winds. Humh, go to thy bed and warm thee. Didst thou give all to thy Daughters? And art thou come to this? Who gives any thing to poor Tom? Whom the foul fiend hath led though Fire, and through Flame, through Sword, and Whirlpool, o'er Bog, and Quagmire, that hath laid Knives under his Pillow, and Halters in his Pew, set Ratsbane by his Porridge, made him Proud of heart, to ride on a Bay trotting Horse, over four incht Bridges, to coarse his own shadow for a Traitor. Bliss thy five Wits, Toms a cold. O do, de, do, de, do de, bliss thee from Whirlwinds, Starre-blasting, and taking, do poor Tom some charity, whom the foul Fiend vexes. There could I have him now, and there, and there again, and there. Has his Daughters brought him to this pass? Couldst thou save nothing? Wouldst thou give 'em all? Nay, he reserved a Blanket, else we had been all shamed. Now all the plagues that in the pendulous air Hang fated o'er men's faults, light on thy Daughters. He hath no Daughters Sir. Death Traitor, nothing could have subdued Nature To such a lowness, but his unkind Daughters. Is it the fashion, that discarded Fathers, Should have thus little mercy on their flesh: judicious punishment, 'twas this flesh begot Those Pelicane Daughters. Pillicock sat on Pillicock hill, allow: allow, loo, loo. This cold night will turn us all to Fools, and Madmen. Take heed o' th' fool Fiend, obey thy Parents, keep thy words justice, swear not, commit not, with man's sworn Spouse: set not thy Sweetheart on proud array. Tom's a cold. What hast thou been? A Servingman? Proud in heart, and mind; that curled my hair, wore Gloves in my cap; served the Lust of my Mistress heart, and did the act of darkness with her. Swore as many Oaths as I spoke words, & broke them in the sweet face of Heaven. One, that slept in the contriving of Lust, and waked to do it. Wine loved I dearly, Dice dearly; and in Woman, out-paramoured the Turk. False of heart, light of ear, bloody of hand; Hog in sloth, Fox in stealth, Wolf in greediness, Dog in madness, Lion in prey. Let not the creaking of shoes, Nor the rustling of Silks, betray thy poor heart to woman. Keep thy foot out of Brothels, thy hand out of Plackets, thy pen from Lender's Books, and defy the foul Fiend. Still through the Hauthorne blows the cold wind: Says suum, must, nonny, Dolphin my Boy, Boy Sesey: let him troth by.
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)
Fathom, and halfe, Fathom and halfe; poore Tom. Come not in heere Nuncle, here's a ſpirit, helpe me, helpe me. Giue me thy hand, who's there? A ſpirite, a ſpirite, he ſayes his name's poore Tom. What art thou that doſt grumble there i' th' ſtraw? Come forth. Away, the foule Fiend followes me, through the ſharpe Hauthorne blow the windes. Humh, goe to thy bed and warme thee. Did'ſt thou giue all to thy Daughters? And art thou come to this? Who giues any thing to poore Tom? Whom the foule fiend hath led though Fire, and through Flame, through Sword, and Whirle-Poole, o're Bog, and Quagmire, that hath laid Kniues vnder his Pillow, and Halters in his Pue, ſet Rats-bane by his Porredge, made him Proud of heart, to ride on a Bay trotting Horſe, ouer foure incht Bridges, to courſe his owne ſhadow for a Traitor. Bliſſe thy fiue Wits, Toms a cold. O do, de, do, de, do de, bliſſe thee from Whirle-Windes, Starre-blaſting, and taking, do poore Tom ſome charitie, whom the foule Fiend vexes. There could I haue him now, and there, and there againe, and there. Ha's his Daughters brought him to this paſſe? Could'ſt thou ſaue nothing? Would'ſt thou giue 'em all? Nay, he reſeru'd a Blanket, elſe we had bin all ſham'd. Now all the plagues that in the pendulous ayre Hang fated o're mens faults, light on thy Daughters. He hath no Daughters Sir. Death Traitor, nothing could haue ſubdu'd Nature To ſuch a lowneſſe, but his vnkind Daughters. Is it the faſhion, that diſcarded Fathers, Should haue thus little mercy on their fleſh: Iudicious puniſhment, 'twas this fleſh begot Thoſe Pelicane Daughters. Pillicock ſat on Pillicock hill, alow: alow, loo, loo. This cold night will turne vs all to Fooles, and Madmen. Take heed o' th' foole Fiend, obey thy Parents, keepe thy words Iuſtice, ſweare not, commit not, with mans ſworne Spouſe: ſet not thy Sweet-heart on proud array. Toms a cold. What haſt thou bin? A Seruingman? Proud in heart, and minde; that curl'd my haire, wore Gloues in my cap; ſeru'd the Luſt of my Miſtris heart, and did the acte of darkeneſſe with her. Swore as many Oathes as I ſpake words, & broke them in the ſweet face of Heauen. One, that ſlept in the contriuing of Luſt, and wak'd to doe it. Wine lou'd I deerely, Dice deerely; and in Woman, out-Paramour'd the Turke. Falſe of heart, light of eare, bloody of hand; Hog in ſloth, Foxe in ſtealth, Wolfe in greedineſſe, Dog in madnes, Lyon in prey. Let not the creaking of ſhooes, Nor the ruſtling of Silkes, betray thy poore heart to woman. Keepe thy foote out of Brothels, thy hand out of Plackets, thy pen from Lenders Bookes, and defye the foule Fiend. Still through the Hauthorne blowes the cold winde: Sayes ſuum, mun, nonny, Dolphin my Boy, Boy Seſey: let him trot by.