Jonson, Ben · published 1616 · first performed or written 1609 [Feb 2] (Annals) masque · before the Court T56 Magic, spells and conjuring typicality 0.81 · 473 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T56: magic, faustus, charms, charm, conjure, spirits, skill, ho, power, spells.
THe stickes are a-crosse, there can be no losse, The sage is rotten, the sulphur is gotten Vp to the sky, that was i'the ground. Follow it then, with our rattles, round; Vnder the bramble, ouer the brier, A little more heat will set it on fire: Put it in mind, to doe it kind, Flow water, and blow wind. Rouncy is ouer, Robble is vnder, A flash of light, and a clap of thunder, A storme of raine, another of hayle. We all must home, i'the gge-shell sayle; The mast is made of a great pin, The tackle of cobweb, the sayle as thin, And if we goe through and not fall in — STay. All our charmes doe nothing winne Vpon the night; our labour dies! Our Magicke-feature will not rise; Nor yet the storme! We must repeate More direfull voyces farre, and beate The ground with vipers, till it sweate. BArke dogges, wolues howle, Seas roare, woods roule, Cloudes cracke, all be blacke, But the light our charmes doe make. NOt yet? my rage beginnes to swell; Darkenesse, deuills, night, and hell, Doe not thus delay my spell. I call you once, and I call you twise; I beat you againe, if you stay my thrise: Thorough these cranyes, where I peepe, I'le let in the light to see your sleepe. And all the secrets of your sway Shall lie as open to the day, As vnto me. Still are you deafe? Reach me a bough, that ne're bare leafe, To strike the aire; and Aconite, To hurle vpon this glaring light; A rustie knife, to wound mine arme; And, as it drops, I'le speake a charme, Shall cleaue the ground, as low as lies Old shrunk-vp CHAOS, and let rise, Once more, his darke, and reeking head, To strike the world, and nature dead, Vntill my magicke birth be bred. BLacke goe in, and blacker come out; At thy going downe, we giue thee a shout. Hoo! At thy rising againe, thou shalt haue two, And if thou dost what, we would haue thee doe, Thou shalt haue three, thou shalt haue foure, Thou shalt haue ten, thou shalt haue a score. Hoo. Har. Har. Hoo! A Cloud of pitch, a spurre, and a switch, To haste him away, and a whirlewind play, Before, and after, which thunder for laughter, And stormes for ioy, of the roaring boy; His head of a drake, his taile of a snake. ABout, about, and about, Till the mist arise, and the lights lie out, The images neither be seene, nor felt; The wollen burne, and the waxen melt; Sprinkle your liquors vpon the ground, And into the ayre; around, around. Around, around, Around, around, Till a musique sound, And the pase be found, To which we may daunce, And our Charmes aduance.
nodes 136–205 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 3 of 4 in this edition
Length
473 words · 737 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T56 — Magic, spells and conjuringcross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.811 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
seed 43: T45 · seed 44: T51 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
THe stickes are a-crosse, there can be no losse, The sage is rotten, the sulphur is gotten Vp to the sky, that was i'the ground. Follow it then, with our rattles, round; Vnder the bramble, ouer the brier, A little more heat will set it on fire: Put it in mind, to doe it kind, Flow water, and blow wind. Rouncy is ouer, Robble is vnder, A flash of light, and a clap of thunder, A storme of raine, another of hayle. We all must home, i'the gge-shell sayle; The mast is made of a great pin, The tackle of cobweb, the sayle as thin, And if we goe through and not fall in — STay. All our charmes doe nothing winne Vpon the night; our labour dies! Our Magicke-feature will not rise; Nor yet the storme! We must repeate More direfull voyces farre, and beate The ground with vipers, till it sweate. BArke dogges, wolues howle, Seas roare, woods roule, Cloudes cracke, all be blacke, But the light our charmes doe make. NOt yet? my rage beginnes to swell; Darkenesse, deuills, night, and hell, Doe not thus delay my spell. I call you once, and I call you twise; I beat you againe, if you stay my thrise: Thorough these cranyes, where I peepe, I'le let in the light to see your sleepe. And all the secrets of your sway Shall lie as open to the day, As vnto me. Still are you deafe? Reach me a bough, that ne're bare leafe, To strike the aire; and Aconite, To hurle vpon this glaring light; A rustie knife, to wound mine arme; And, as it drops, I'le speake a charme, Shall cleaue the ground, as low as lies Old shrunk-vp CHAOS, and let rise, Once more, his darke, and reeking head, To strike the world, and nature dead, Vntill my magicke birth be bred. BLacke goe in, and blacker come out; At thy going downe, we giue thee a shout. Hoo! At thy rising againe, thou shalt haue two, And if thou dost what, we would haue thee doe, Thou shalt haue three, thou shalt haue foure, Thou shalt haue ten, thou shalt haue a score. Hoo. Har. Har. Hoo! A Cloud of pitch, a spurre, and a switch, To haste him away, and a whirlewind play, Before, and after, which thunder for laughter, And stormes for ioy, of the roaring boy; His head of a drake, his taile of a snake. ABout, about, and about, Till the mist arise, and the lights lie out, The images neither be seene, nor felt; The wollen burne, and the waxen melt; Sprinkle your liquors vpon the ground, And into the ayre; around, around. Around, around, Around, around, Till a musique sound, And the pase be found, To which we may daunce, And our Charmes aduance.