Jonson, Ben · published 1612 · first performed or written 1610 (Annals) comedy · King's Men unassigned nearest T56 Magic, spells and conjuring · 481 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T56: magic, faustus, charms, charm, conjure, spirits, skill, ho, power, spells.
That's his Fire-drake, His Lungs, his Zephyrus, he that puffs his coals, Till he firk Nature, up, in her own centre. You are not faithful, Sir. This night, I'll change All, that is metal, in my house, to gold. And, early in the morning, will I send To all the Plumbers, and the Peuterers, And buy their Tin, and Led up: and to Lothbury. For all the copper. What, and turn that too? Yes, and I'll purchase Devonshire, and Cornwall, And make them perfect Indies. You admire now? No faith. But when you see th'effects of the great medicine! Of which one part projected on a hundred Of Mercury, or Venus, or the Moon, Shall turn it, to as many of the Sun; Nay, to a thousand, so ad infinitum: You will believe me. Yes, when I see't, I will. But, if my eyes do cousin me so (and I Giuing'hem no occasion) sure, I'll have A Whore, shall pisse'hem out next day. Ha! Why? Do you think, I fable with you? I assure you, He that has once the Flower of the Sun, The perfect Ruby, which we call Elixir, Not only can do that, but by its virtue, Can confer honour, love, respect, long life, Give safety, valour: yea, and victory, To whom he will. In eight, and twenty days, I'll make an Old man, of fourscore, a Child. No doubt hee'is that already. Nay, I mean, Restore his years, renew him, like an Eagle, To the fifth age; make him get Sons, and Daughters, Young Giants; as our Philosophers have done (The ancient patriarchs afore the flood) But taking, once a week, on a knives point, The quantity of a grain of Mustard, of it: Become stout Marsses, and beget young Cupids. The decayed Vestals of Pickt-hatch would thank you, That keep the fire alive, there. 'Tis the secret Of Nature, naturized against all infections, Cures all diseases, coming of all causes, A month's grief, in a day; a years, in twelve: And, of what age so ever, in a month. Past all the doses, of your drugging Doctors. I'll undertake, withal, to fright the Plague Out o'the kingdom, in three months. And I'll Be bound, the Players shall sing your praises, then, Without their Poets. Sir, I'll do't. Mean time, I'll give away so much, unto my man, Shall serve th'whole City, with preservative, Weekely, each house his dose, and at the rate— As he that built the Waterwork, does with water, You are incredulous. Faith, I have a humour, I would not willingly be gulled. Your Stone Cannot transmute me Pertinax, Surly, Will you believe Antiquity? Records? I'll show you a Book, where Moses, and his Sister, And Solomon have written, of the Art; I, and a Treatise penned by Adam. How! O'the Philosophers stone, and in high Dutch. Did Adam write, Sir, in high Dutch?
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)
That's his Fire-drake, His Lungs, his Zephyrus, he that puffes his coales, Till he firke Nature, vp, in her owne center. You are not faithfull, Sir. This night, I'll change All, that is mettall, in my house, to gold. And, early in the morning, will I send To all the Plumbers, and the Peuterers, And buy their Tinne, and Lead vp: and to Lothbury. For all the copper. What, and turne that too? Yes, and I'll purchase Deuonshire, and Cornwaile, And make them perfect Indies. You admire now? No faith. But when you see th'effects of the great medicine! Of which one part proiected on a hundred Of Mercurie, or Venus, or the Moone, Shall turne it, to as many of the Sunne; Nay, to a thousand, so ad infinitum: You will beleeue me. Yes, when I see't, I will. But, if my eyes doe cossen me so (and I Giuing'hem no occasion) sure, I'll haue A Whore, shall pisse'hem out next day. Ha! Why? Doe you thinke, I fable with you? I assure you, He that has once the Flower of the Sunne, The perfect Ruby, which we call Elixir, Not onely can doe that, but by it's vertue, Can confer honour, loue, respect, long life, Giue safty, valure: yea, and victory, To whom he will. In eight, and twenty dayes, I'll make an Old man, of fourescore, a Childe. No doubt hee'is that already. Nay, I meane, Restore his yeares, renew him, like an Eagle, To the fifth age; make him get Sonnes, and Daughters, Yong Giants; as our Philosophers haue done (The antient Patriarkes afore the flood) But taking, once a weeke, on a kniues point, The quantitie of a grayne of Mustard, of it: Become stout Marsses, and beget yong Cupids. The decay'd Vestall's of Pickt-hatch would thanke you, That keepe the fire a-liue, there. 'Tis the secret Of Nature, naturiz'd 'gainst all infections, Cures all diseases, comming of all causes, A month's griefe, in a day; a yeares, in twelue: And, of what age so euer, in a month. Past all the doses, of your drugging Doctors. I'll vndertake, withall, to fright the Plague Out o'the kingdome, in three months. And I'll Be bound, the Players shall sing your prases, then, Without their Poets. Sir, I'll doo't. Meane time, I'll giue away so much, vnto my man, Shall serue th'whole Citie, with preseruatiue, Weekely, each house his dose, and at the rate— As he that built the Water-worke, dos with water, You are incredulous. Faith, I haue a humor, I would not willingly be gull'd. Your Stone Cannot transmute me Pertinax, Surly, Will you beleeue Antiquitie? Recordes? I'll shew you a Booke, where Moses, and his Sister, And Salomon haue written, of the Art; I, and a Treatise penn'd by Adam. How! O'the Philosophers stone, and in high Dutch. Did Adam write, Sir, in high Dutch?