Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1611 (Annals) comedy · King's Men T56 Magic, spells and conjuring typicality 0.84 · 471 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T56: magic, faustus, charms, charm, conjure, spirits, skill, ho, power, spells.
I'll fetch them, Sir. Ye Elves of hills, brooks, standing lakes & groves, And ye, that on the sands with printless foot Do chase the ebbing- Neptune, and do fly him When he comes back: you demy-Puppets, that By Moonshine do the green sour Ringlets make, Whereof the Ewe not bites: and you, whose pastime Is to make midnight-Mushrumps, that rejoice To hear the solemn Curfewe, by whose aid (Weak Masters though ye be) I have bedymned The Noontide Sun, called forth the mutinous winds, And twixt the green Sea, and the azured vault Set roaring war: To the dread rattling Thunder Have I given fire, and rifted Jove's stout Oak With his own Bolt: The strong bassed promontory Have I made shake, and by the spurs plucked up The Pine, and Cedar. Graves at my command Have waked their sleepers, oped, and let 'em forth By my so potent Art. But this rough Magic I here abjure: and when I have required Some heavenly Music (which even now I do) To work mine end upon their Senses, that This Ayrie-charme is for, I'll break my staff, Bury it certain fathoms in the earth, And deeper than did ever Plummet sound I'll drown my book. A solemn Air, and the best comforter, To an unsettled fancy, Cure thy brains (Now useless) boil within thy skull: there stand For you are Spell-stopt. Holy Gonzallo, Honourable man, Mine eyes even sociable to the show of thine Fall fellowly drops: The charm dissolves apace, And as the morning steals upon the night (Melting the darkness) so their rising senses Begin to chase the ignorant fumes that mantle Their clearer reason. O good Gonzallo My true preserver, and a loyal Sir, To him thou follow'st; I will pay thy grace's Home both in word, and deed: Most cruelly Did thou Alonso, use me, and my daughter: Thy brother was a furtherer in the Act, Thou art pinched for't now Sebastian. Flesh, and blood, You, brother mine, that entertain ambition, Expelld remorse, and nature, whom, with Sebastian (Whose inward pinches therefore are most strong) Would here have killed your King: I do forgive thee, Unnatural though thou art: Their understanding Gins to swell, and the approaching tide Will shortly fill the reasonable shore That now lie foul, and muddy: not one of them That yet looks on me, or would know me: Ariell, Fetch me the Hat, and Rapier in my Cell, I will discase me, and myself present As I was sometime Milan: quickly Spirit, Thou shalt ere long be free. Where the Bee sucks, there suck I, In a Cowslips bell, I lie, There I couch when Owls do cry, On the Bats back I do fly after Summer merrily. Merrily, merrily, shall I live now, Under the blossom that hangs on the Bow.
nodes 1719–1780 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 29 of 33 in this edition
Length
471 words · 659 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T56 — Magic, spells and conjuringcross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.837 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
seed 43: T45 · seed 44: T51 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Ile fetch them, Sir. Ye Elues of hils, brooks, ſtāding lakes & groues, And ye, that on the ſands with printleſſe foote Doe chaſe the ebbing-Neptune, and doe flie him When he comes backe: you demy-Puppets, that By Moone-ſhine doe the greene ſowre Ringlets make, Whereof the Ewe not bites: and you, whoſe paſtime Is to make midnight-Muſhrumps, that reioyce To heare the ſolemne Curfewe, by whoſe ayde (Weake Maſters though ye be) I haue bedymn'd The Noone-tide Sun, call'd forth the mutenous windes, And twixt the greene Sea, and the azur'd vault Set roaring warre: To the dread ratling Thunder Haue I giuen fire, and rifted Ioues ſtowt Oke With his owne Bolt: The ſtrong baſs'd promontorie Haue I made ſhake, and by the ſpurs pluckt vp The Pyne, and Cedar. Graues at my command Haue wak'd their ſleepers, op'd, and let 'em forth By my ſo potent Art. But this rough Magicke I heere abiure: and when I haue requir'd Some heauenly Muſicke (which euen now I do) To worke mine end vpon their Sences, that This Ayrie-charme is for, I'le breake my ſtaffe, Bury it certaine fadomes in the earth, And deeper then did euer Plummet ſound Ile drowne my booke. A ſolemne Ayre, and the beſt comforter, To an vnſetled fancie, Cure thy braines (Now vſeleſſe) boile within thy skull: there ſtand For you are Spell-ſtopt. Holy Gonzallo, Honourable man, Mine eyes ev'n ſociable to the ſhew of thine Fall fellowly drops: The charme diſſolues apace, And as the morning ſteales vpon the night (Melting the darkeneſſe) ſo their riſing ſences Begin to chace the ignorant fumes that mantle Their cleerer reaſon. O good Gonzallo My true preſeruer, and a loyall Sir, To him thou follow'ſt; I will pay thy graces Home both in word, and deede: Moſt cruelly Did thou Alonſo, vſe me, and my daughter: Thy brother was a furtherer in the Act, Thou art pinch'd for't now Sebaſtian. Fleſh, and bloud, You, brother mine, that entertaine ambition, Expelld remorſe, and nature, whom, with Sebaſtian (Whoſe inward pinches therefore are moſt ſtrong) Would heere haue kill'd your King: I do forgiue thee, Vnnaturall though thou art: Their vnderſtanding Begins to ſwell, and the approching tide Will ſhortly fill the reaſonable ſhore That now ly foule, and muddy: not one of them That yet lookes on me, or would know me: Ariell, Fetch me the Hat, and Rapier in my Cell, I will diſcaſe me, and my ſelfe preſent As I was ſometime Millaine: quickly Spirit, Thou ſhalt ere long be free. Where the Bee ſucks, there ſuck I, In a Cowſlips bell, I lie, There I cowch when Owles doe crie, On the Batts backe I doe flie after Sommer merrily. Merrily, merrily, ſhall I liue now, Vnder the bloſſom that hangs on the Bow.