Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1611 (Annals) comedy · King's Men unassigned nearest T56 Magic, spells and conjuring · 503 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T56: magic, faustus, charms, charm, conjure, spirits, skill, ho, power, spells.
Be you quiet (Monster) Mistress line, is not this my jerkin? now is the jerkin under the line: now jerkin you are like to lose your hair, & prove a bald jerkin. Do, do; we steal by line and level, and't like your grace. I thank thee for that jest; here's a garment for't: Wit shall not go vn-rewarded while I am King of this Country: Steal by line and level, is an excellent pass of pate: there's another garment for't. Monster, come put some Lime upon your fingers, and away with the rest. I will have none on't: we shall lose our time, And all be turned to Barnacles, or to Apes With foreheads villainous low. Monster, lay to your fingers: help to bear this away, where my hogshead of wine is, or I'll turn you out of my kingdom: go to, carry this. And this. I, and this. hay Mountain, hay. Silver: there it goes, Silver. Fury, Fury: there Tyrant, there: hark, hark. Go, charge my Goblins that they grind their joints With dry Convultions, shorten up their sinews With aged Cramps, & more pinch-spotted make them, Then Pared, or Cat o' Mountain. Hark, they roar. Let them be hunted sound: At this hour Lies at my mercy all mine enemies: Shortly shall all my labours end, and thou Shalt have the air at freedom: for a little Fellow, and do me service. Now does my Project gather to a head: My charms crack not: my Spirits obey, and Time Goes upright with his carriage: how's the day? On the sixth hour, at which time, my Lord You said our work should cease. I did say so, When first I raised the Tempest: say my Spirit, How fares the King, and's followers? Confined together In the same fashion, as you gave in charge, Just as you left them; all prisoner's Sir In the Line-grove which weather-fends your Cell, They cannot budge till your release: The King, His Brother, and yours, abide all three distracted, And the remainder mourning over them, Brim full of sorrow, and dismay: but chief Him that you termed Sir, the good old Lord Gonzallo, His tears runs down his beard like winter's drops From eaveses of reeds: your charm so strongly works 'em That if you now beheld them, your affections Would become tender. Dost thou think so, Spirit? Mine would, Sir, were I humane. And mine shall. Hast thou (which art but air) a touch, a feeling Of their afflictions, and shall not myself, One of their kind, that relish all as sharply, Passion as they, be kindlier moved than thou art? Though with their high wrongs I am struck to th' quick, Yet, with my nobler reason, 'gainst my fury Do I take part: the rarer Action is In virtue, then in vengeance: they, being penitent, The sole drift of my purpose doth extend Not a frown further: Go, release them Ariell, My Charms I'll break, their senses I'll restore, And they shall be themselves.
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)
Be you quiet (Monſter) Miſtris line, is not this my Ierkin? now is the Ierkin vnder the line: now Ierkin you are like to loſe your haire, & proue a bald Ierkin. Doe, doe; we ſteale by lyne and leuell, and't like your grace. I thank thee for that ieſt; heer's a garment for't: Wit ſhall not goe vn-rewarded while I am King of this Country: Steale by line and leuell, is an excellent paſſe of pate: there's another garment for't. Monſter, come put ſome Lime vpon your fingers, and away with the reſt. I will haue none on't: we ſhall looſe our time, And all be turn'd to Barnacles, or to Apes With foreheads villanous low. Monſter, lay to your fingers: helpe to beare this away, where my hogſhead of wine is, or Ile turne you out of my kingdome: goe to, carry this. And this. I, and this. Hey Mountaine, hey. Siluer: there it goes, Siluer. Fury, Fury: there Tyrant, there: harke, harke. Goe, charge my Goblins that they grinde their ioynts With dry Convultions, ſhorten vp their ſinewes With aged Cramps, & more pinch-ſpotted make them, Then Pard, or Cat o' Mountaine. Harke, they rore. Let them be hunted ſoundly: At this houre Lies at my mercy all mine enemies: Shortly ſhall all my labours end, and thou Shalt haue the ayre at freedome: for a little Follow, and doe me ſeruice. Now do's my Proiect gather to a head: My charmes cracke not: my Spirits obey, and Time Goes vpright with his carriage: how's the day? On the ſixt hower, at which time, my Lord You ſaid our worke ſhould ceaſe. I did ſay ſo, When firſt I rais'd the Tempeſt: ſay my Spirit, How fares the King, and's followers? Confin'd together In the ſame faſhion, as you gaue in charge, Iuſt as you left them; all priſoners Sir In the Line-groue which weather-fends your Cell, They cannot boudge till your releaſe: The King, His Brother, and yours, abide all three diſtracted, And the remainder mourning ouer them, Brim full of ſorrow, and diſmay: but chiefly Him that you term'd Sir, the good old Lord Gonzallo, His teares runs downe his beard like winters drops From eaues of reeds: your charm ſo ſtrongly works 'em That if you now beheld them, your affections Would become tender. Doſt thou thinke ſo, Spirit? Mine would, Sir, were I humane. And mine ſhall. Haſt thou (which art but aire) a touch, a feeling Of their afflictions, and ſhall not my ſelfe, One of their kinde, that relliſh all as ſharpely, Paſſion as they, be kindlier mou'd then thou art? Thogh with their high wrongs I am ſtrook to th' quick, Yet, with my nobler reaſon, gainſt my furie Doe I take part: the rarer Action is In vertue, then in vengeance: they, being penitent, The ſole drift of my purpoſe doth extend Not a frowne further: Goe, releaſe them Ariell, My Charmes Ile breake, their ſences Ile reſtore, And they ſhall be themſelues.