If It Be Not Good, the Devil Is in It (If This Be Not a Good Play, the Devil Is in It) · chunk 33 of 44
Dekker, Thomas · published 1612 · first performed or written 1611 [1611-1612] (Annals) comedy · Queen Anne's Men · Red Bull unassigned nearest T4 Love-longing and the lover's complaint · 491 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T4: love, heart, sweet, loves, fair, phillis, eyes, beauty, amyntas, lovers.
Will you have a dainty girl? here 'tis: coral lips, teeth of pearl: here 'tis: Cherry checks, softest flesh; that's she, Breath like May, sweet and fresh; she she. Be she white, black, or brown, Pleasure your bed shall crown, Chose her then, use her then, Women are made for men. Pretty, pretty waist: Sweet to be embraced: Pretty leg, o pretty foot, To beauty's tree the root▪ This is she shall dot, Or she shall do't, or she shall do't, she shall do't, she shall do't Kiss, kiss, play, play, come and dally, Tumble, tumble, tumble, in beauty's valley. His soul is chained in pleasures, bind it fast, If he break your charms▪ the strongest spell comes last. Hence devils incarnate, 'tis not the sorcery Of your deceitful tunes, shuts up mine eye, Mine ears are likewise stopped, hence, hence I say. Ha ha, a man of ye, a clod of clay. Are all thy incantations spent now? art come again? Base workmanship of heaven, what other train, Were all hell's frightful horrors stuck in thy look, Thou canst not shake me. I can. Thou liest, thou shalt not. I bring thee tidings of thy death this night. How dost thou know that hour of my last fight? False herald, Minister of despair and lies. I know to how many minutes thy days must rise. Who gives thee the number. All things to us are known, whatever have been, are, or shallbe done. I'll pose thee presently, what's this thou fiend▪ Which now I have turned too, do but tell me that And i'll believe thee. I scorn to be thy slave. Down, down, and sink into thy damned cave: Look here, dost fly thou hellhound? I dare thee stand, o'er thee by these holy spells have I strong command, Thy batteries are too weak: by goodmen's prayers, The continence of saints, (by which as stairs, They ascend to heaven) by virgin's chastity; By Martyrs crowned deaths, which recorded lie In silver leaves, above: I charge thee down, Howl where thou'rt bound in slavery, till the last doom, Storms, thunder, lightning, rip up the earth's womb. Eternal power, thanks on my humbled knee, Thou still to constant breasts giv'st victory. No way to conquer thee? I'll give thee over: ne'er fished I so, (yet lost a soul) before. Black horrors, mischief ruin and confusion affright us, follow us. Dare them to the face, And you fright them. No safety but to fly. Whither Spendola, whither? better stay, and die. What hope? what news? Is my uncle fled? he's is gone:— And fights against you. Follow him damnation, That leaves his Prince so in distress, in misery; O bane of Kings! (thou enchanting flattery,) Thy venom now I feel, eating my heart, More mortal than an Indian's poisoned dart. you're too dejected, gather head and fight it out. The head's here, where are hands to lay about? Where is the King?
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)
Will you haue a daintie girle? here tis: Currall lippes, teeth of pearle: here tis: Cherry checkes, softest flesh; thats shee, Breath like May, sweete and fresh; shee shee. Be she white, blacke, or browne, Pleasure your bed shall crowne, Chose her then, vse her then, Women are made for men. Prettie, prettie wast: Sweete to be embracde: Prettie leg, ô prettie foote, To beauties tree the roote▪ This is she shall doo'te, Or she shall doo't, or she shall doo't, she shall doo't, she shall doo't Kisse, kisse, play, play, come and dally, Tumble, tumble, tumble, in beauties valley. His soule is chaind in pleasures, bind it fast, If he breake your charmes▪ the strongest spell comes last. Hence diuells incarnate, tis not the orcerie Of your deceitfull tunes, shuts vp mine eye, Mine eares are likewise stop'd, hence, hence I say. Ha ha, a man of yee, a clod of clay. Are all thy incantations spent now? art come againe? Base workmanship of heauen, what other traine, Were all hells frightfull horrors stucke in thy looke, Thou canst not shake me. I can. Thou liest, thou shalt not▪ I bring thee tydings of thy death this nigh ▪ How doest thou know that houre of my last fight? False herald, Minister of despaire and lyes. I know to how many minutes thy daies must rise. Who giues thee the number. All things to vs are knowne, What euer haue bin, are, or shalbe don. Ile pose thee presently, whats this thou fiend▪ Which now I haue turnd too, doe but tell me that And ile belieue thee▪ I scorne to be thy slaue▪ Downe, downe, and sincke into thy damned cau: Looke here, doest fly thou hell-hound? I dare thee stand, Or'e thee by these holy spells haue I strong command, Thy battries are too weake: by goodmens prayers, The continence of saints, (by which as stayres, They ascend to heauen) by Virgins chastitie; By Martis cround deaths, which recorded lye In siluer leaues, aboue: I charge thee downe, Howle where tha'rt bound in slauerie, till the last dome, Stormes, thunder, lightning, rip vp the earths wombe. Eternall power, thankes on my humbled knee, Thou still to constant brests giu'st victory. No way to conquer thee? Ile giue thee ore: Ne're fishd I so, (yet lost a soule) before. Blacke horrors, mischiefe ruine and confusion affright vs, follow vs. Dae them to the face, And you fright them. No safetie but to fly. Whither Spendola, whither? better stay, and die. What hope? what newes? Is my vncle fled? Hees is gon:—And fights against you. Follow him damnation, That leaues his Prince so in distresse, in miserie; O ban of Kings! (thou inchanting flatterie,) Thy venome now I feele, ating my heart, More mortall than an Indians poisned dart. Yar'e too deiected, gather head and fight it ou. The head's here, where are hands to lay about? Where is the King?