Dekker, Thomas / Massinger, Philip · published 1622 · first performed or written 1620 [licensed for stage, Oct 6; revised and re-licensed for stage, Jul 7, 1624] (Annals) tragedy · Red Bull (Revels) Company (first) T12 Olympian gods: Jupiter, Juno, Venus and typicality 0.70 · 467 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T12: iupiter, saturn, iuno, venus, gods, mars, earth, titan, love, fair.
Cannot I see this Garden? Yes, if the Master Will give you entrance. 'tis attempting fruit, and the most bright checked child I ever viewed, Sweet smelling goodly fruit, what flowers are these? In Dioclesian's Gardens, the most beauteous Compared with these are weeds: is it not February? The second day she died: Frost, Ice and snow Hang on the beard of Winter, where's the sun That guilds this summer, pretty sweet boy, say in what Country Shall a man find this Garden—, my delicate boy, gone! Vanished! Within there, juliarues and Gota.— My Lord. Are my gates shut? And guarded. Saw you not— a boy. Where? Here he entered, a young Lad, 1000. blessings danced upon his eyes, a smooth faced glorious Thing, that brought this Basket. No sir? Away, but be in reach if my voice calls you, No! vanished! and not seen, be thou a spirit Sent from that Witch to mock me, I am sure This is essential, and howe'er it grows, Will taste it. Ha, ha, ha, ha. So good, i'll have some now sure. Ha, ha, ha, ha, great liquorish fool. What art thou? A Fisherman, What dost thou catch; Souls, souls, a fish called souls. Geta. My Lord. Ha, ha, ha, ha. What insolent slave is this dares laugh at me? Or what is't the dog grins at so? I neither know my Lord at what, nor whom, for there is none without but my fellow Iulianus, and he's making a Garland for Iupiter. Iupiter! all within me is not well, And yet not sick. Ha, ha, ha, ha. What's thy name slave? Go look. 'tis Harpax voice. Harpax, go drag the Caitiff to my foot, That I may stamp upon him. Fool, thou liest. he's yonder now my Lord. Watch thou that end Whilst I make good this. Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha. he's at barleybreak, and the last couple are now in hell, Search for him, all this ground methink is bloody, And paved with thousands of those Christians' eyes Whom I have tortured, and they stare upon me; What was this apparition? sure it had A shape Angelical; mine eyes (though dazzled And daunted at first sight) tell me, it wore A pair of glorious wings, yea they were wings, And hence he flew; 'tis vanished, Iupiter For all my sacrifices done to him Never once gave me smile: how can stone smile, Or wooden Image laugh? ha! I remember Such Music gave a welcome to my ear, When the fair youth came to me: 'tis in the Air, Or from some better place, a power divine, Through my dark ignorance on my soul does shine, And makes me see a conscience all stained over, Nay drowned and damned for ever in Christian gore. Ha, ha, ha.
seed 43: T28 · seed 44: T22 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Cannot I see this Garden? Yes, if the Master Will giue you entrance. Tis atempting fruit, and the most bright check'd child I euer view'd, Sweete smelling goodly fruit, what flowers are these? In Dioclesians Gardens, the most beautious Compard with these are weedes: is it not February? The second day she dyed: Frost, Ice and snowe Hang on the beard of Winter, wheres the sunne That guilds this summer, pretty sweete boy, say in what Country Shall a man find this Garden —, my delicate boy, gonel Vanished! Within there, Iuliarues and Gota. — My Lord. Are my gates shut? And guarded. Saw you not — a boy. Where? Heere hee entred, a young Lad, 1000. blessings danc'd vpon his eyes, a smooth fac'd glorious Thing, that brought this Basket. No sir? Away, but be in reach if my voyce calls you, No! vanish'd! and not seene, be thou a spirit Sent from that Witch to mock me, I am sure This is essentiall, and how ere it growes, Will taste it. Ha, ha, ha, ha. So good, ile haue some now sure. Ha, ha, ha, ha, great lickorish foole. What art thou? A Fisherman, What doest thou catch; Soules, soules, a fish cal'd soules. Geta. My Lord. Ha, ha, ha, ha. What insolent slaue is this dares laugh at me? Or what ist the dog grinnes at so? I neither know my Lord at what, nor whom, for there is none without but my fellow Iulianus, and hee's making a Garland for Iupiter. Iupiter! all within me is not well, And yet not sicke. Ha, ha, ha, ha. What's thy name slaue? Goe looke. Tis Harpax voyce. Harpax, goe drag the Caitiffe to my foote, That I may stampe vpon him. Foole, thou lyest. Hee's yonder now my Lord. Watch thou that end Whilst I make good this. Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha. Hee's at Barli-breake, and the last coulple are now in hell, Search for him, all this ground me thinke is bloudy, And pau'd with thousands of those Christians eyes Whom I haue tortu'd, and they stare vpon me; What was this apparition? sure it had A shape Angelicall; mine eyes (though dazled And danted at first sight) tell me, it wore A paire of glorious wings, yea they were wings, And hence he flew; tis vanished, Iupiter For all my sacrifices done to him Neuer once gaue me smile: how can stone smile, Or woodden Image laugh? ha! I remember Such Musicke gaue a welcome to my eare, When the faire youth came to me: tis in the Ayre, Or from some better place, a power diuine, Through my darke ignorance on my soule does shine, And makes me see a conscience all stai'nd ore, Nay drown'd and damn'd for euer in Christian gore. Ha, ha, ha.