Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1611 (Annals) comedy · King's Men unassigned nearest T56 Magic, spells and conjuring · 475 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T56: magic, faustus, charms, charm, conjure, spirits, skill, ho, power, spells.
You taught me Language, and my profit on't Is, I know how to curse: the red-plague rid you For learning me your language. Hag-seed, hence: Fetch us in Fuel, and be quick thou'rt best To answer other business: shruggest thou (Malice) If thou neglect'st, or dost unwillingly What I command, I'll rack thee with old Cramps, Fill all thy bones with Aches, make thee roar, That beasts shall tremble at thy din. No, 'pray thee. I must obey, his Art is of such power, It would control my Dam's god Setebos, And make a vassal of him. So slave, hence. Come unto these yellow sands, and then take hands: Curtsied when you have, and kissed the wild waves whist: Foot it featly here, and there, and sweet Sprights bear the burden. Hark, hark, bowgh wawgh: the watch-Dogges bark, bowgh-wawgh. Hark, hark, I hear, the strain of strutting Chanticleer cry cockadidle-dowe. Where should this Music be? I' th' air, or th' earth? It sounds no more: and sure it waits upon Some God ' o'th' Island, sitting on a bank, Weeping again the King my Father's wrack. This Music crept by me upon the waters, Allaying both their fury, and my passion With its sweet air; thence I have followed it (Or it hath drawn me rather) but 'tis gone. No, it begins again. Full fathom five thy Father lies. Of his bones are Coral made: Those are pearls that were his eyes, Nothing of him that doth fade, But doth suffer a Sea-change Into something rich, & strange: Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell. Hark now I hear them, dingdong bell. The Ditty does remember my drowned father, This is no mortal business, nor no found That the earth owes: I hear it now above me. The fringed Curtains of thine eye advance, And say what thou seest yond. What is't a Spirit? Lord, how it looks about: Believe me sir, It carries a brave form. But 'tis a spirit. No wench, it eats, and sleeps, & hath such senses As we have: such. This Gallant which thou seest Was in the wrack: and but he's something stained With grief (that's beauty's canker) thou mightst call him A goodly person: he hath lost his fellows, And strays about to find 'em. I might call him A thing divine, for nothing natural I ever saw so Noble. It goes on I see As my soul prompts it: Spirit, fine spirit, I'll free thee Within two days for this. Most sure the Goddess On whom these airs attend: Vouchsafe my prayer May know if you remain upon this Island, And that you will some good instruction give How I may bear me here: my prime request (Which I do last pronounce) is (O you wonder) If you be Maid, or no? No wonder Sir, But certainly a Maid.
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)
You taught me Language, and my profit on't Is, I know how to curſe: the red-plague rid you For learning me your language. Hag-ſeed, hence: Fetch vs in Fewell, and be quicke thou'rt beſt To anſwer other buſineſſe: ſhrug'ſt thou (Malice) If thou neglectſt, or doſt vnwillingly What I command, Ile racke thee with old Crampes, Fill all thy bones with Aches, make thee rore, That beaſts ſhall tremble at thy dyn. No, 'pray thee. I muſt obey, his Art is of ſuch pow'r, It would controll my Dams god Setebos, And make a vaſſaile of him. So ſlaue, hence. Come vnto theſe yellow ſands, and then take hands: Curt ſied when you haue, and kiſt the wilde waues whiſt: Foote it featly heere, and there, and ſweete Sprights beare the burthen. Harke, harke, bowgh wawgh: the watch-Dogges barke, bowgh-wawgh. Hark, hark, I heare, the ſtraine of ſtrutting Chanticlere cry cockadidle-dowe. Where ſhold this Muſick be? I' th aire, or th' earth? It ſounds no more: and ſure it waytes vpon Some God' oth' Iland, ſitting on a banke, Weeping againe the King my Fathers wracke. This Muſicke crept by me vpon the waters, Allaying both their fury, and my paſſion With it's ſweet ayre; thence I haue follow'd it (Or it hath drawne me rather) but 'tis gone. No, it begins againe. Full fadom fiue thy Father lies. Of his bones are Corrall made: Thoſe are pearles that were his eies, Nothing of him that doth fade, But doth ſuffer a Sea-change Into ſomething rich, & ſtrange: Sea-Nimphs hourly ring his knell. Harke now I heare them, ding-dong bell. The Ditty do's remember my drown'd father, This is no mortall buſines, nor no found That the earth owes: I heare it now aboue me. The fringed Curtaines of thine eye aduance, And ſay what thou ſee'ſt yond. What is't a Spirit? Lord, how it lookes about: Beleeue me ſir, It carries a braue forme. But 'tis a ſpirit. No wench, it eats, and ſleeps, & hath ſuch ſenſes As we haue: ſuch. This Gallant which thou ſeeſt Was in the wracke: and but hee's ſomething ſtain'd With greefe (that's beauties canker) yu might'ſt call him A goodly perſon: he hath loſt his fellowes, And ſtrayes about to finde 'em. I might call him A thing diuine, for nothing naturall I euer ſaw ſo Noble. It goes on I ſee As my ſoule prompts it: Spirit, fine ſpirit, Ile free thee Within two dayes for this. Moſt ſure the Goddeſſe On whom theſe ayres attend: Vouchſafe my pray'r May know if you remaine vpon this Iſland, And that you will ſome good inſtruction giue How I may beare me heere: my prime requeſt (Which I do laſt pronounce) is (O you wonder) If you be Mayd, or no? No wonder Sir, But certainly a Mayd.