Jonson, Ben · published 1631 · first performed or written 1626 [Feb] (Annals) comedy · King's Men T31 Popes, cardinals and the crown typicality 0.63 · 492 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T31: cardinal, pope, king, lord, majesty, holy, rome, france, church, lords.
He'll never leave his engines: I would hear now Some curious news. As what? Magic, or Alchemy Or flying i'the air, I care not what. They writ from Leipzig (reverence to your ears) The Art of drawing farts out of dead bodies, Is by the Brotherhood of the Rosy Cross, Produced unto perfection, in so sweet And rich a tincture— As there is no Princess, But may perfume her chamber with th' extraction. There's for you. Princess. What, a fart for her? I mean the spirit. Beware how she resents it. And what hast thou, Thom? The perpetual Motion, Is here found out by an Alewife in Saint Katherine's, At the sign o' the dancing Bears. What, from her tap? I'll go see that, or else I'll sand old Canter. He can make that discovery. Yes, in Ale. Let me have all this News, made up, and sealed. The people press upon us, please you, Sir, Withdraw with your fair Princess. There's a room Within, Sir, to retire too. Not, good Register, We'll stand it out here, and observe your Office; What News it issues. 'Tis the house of fame, Sir, Where both the curious, and the negligent; The scrupulous, and careless; wild, and stayed; The idle, and laborious; all do meet, To taste the Cornu copiae of her rumours, Which she, the mother of sport, pleaseth to scatter Among the vulgar: Baits, Sir, for the people! And they will by't like fishes. Let's see't. Ha' you in your profane Shop, any News O'the Saints at Amsterdam? Yes, how much would you? Six penny worth. Lay your money down, read, Thomas. The Saints do writ, they expect a Prophet. shortly, The Prophet Baal, to be sent over to them, To calculate a time, and halfe a time, And the whole time, according to Naometry. What's that? The measuring o'the Temple: a Cabal Found out but lately, and set out by Archie, Or some such head, of whose long coat they have heard, And being black, desire it. Peace be with them! So there had need, for they are still by the ears One with another. It is their zeal. Most likely. Have you no other of that species? Yes, But dearer, it will cost you a shilling. Verily, There is of ninepences, I will shed no more. Not; to the good o'the Saints? I am not sure, That man is good. Read, from Constantinople, pennyworth. They give out here, the grand Signior Is certainly turned Christian, and to clear The controversy 'twixt the Pope and him, Which is the Antichrist; he means to visit The Church at Amsterdam, this very Summer, And quit all marks o'the beast. Now joyful tidings. Who brought in this? Which Emissary? Buz. Your countryman. Now, blessed be the man, And his whole Family, with the Nation. Yes, for Amboyna, and the justice there! This is a Doper, a she Anabaptist! Seal and deliver her her news, dispatch.
seed 43: T38 · seed 44: T38 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
He'll neuer leaue his engines: I would heare now Some curious newes. As what? Magick, or Alchimy Or flying i'the ayre, I care not what. They write from Libtzig (reuerence to your eares) The Art of drawing farts out of dead bodies, Is by the Brotherhood of the Roſie Croſſe, Produc'd vnto perfection, in ſo ſweet And rich a tincture— As there is no Princeſſe, But may perfume her chamber with th'extraction. There's for you. Princeſſe. What, a fart for her? I meane the ſpirit. Beware how ſhe reſents it. And what haſt thou, Thom? The perpetuall Motion, Is here found out by an Alewife in Saint Katherines, At the ſigne o' the dancing Beares. What, from her tap? I'll goe ſee that, or elſe I'll ſend old Canter. He can make that diſcouery. Yes, in Ale. Let me haue all this Newes, made vp, and ſeal'd. The people preſſe vpon vs, pleaſe you, Sir, Withdraw with your faire Princeſſe. There's a roome Within, Sir, to retyre too. No, good Regiſter, We'll ſtand it out here, and obſerue your Office; What Newes it iſſues. 'Tis the houſe of fame, Sir, Where both the curious, and the negligent; The ſcrupulous, and careleſſe; wilde, and ſtay'd; The idle, and laborious; all doe meet, To taſt the Cornu copiae of her rumors, Which ſhe, the mother of ſport, pleaſeth to ſcatter Among the vulgar: Baites, Sir, for the people! And they will bite like fiſhes. Let's ſee't. Ha' you in your prophane Shop, any Newes O'the Saints at Amſterdam? Yes, how much would you? Six peny worth. Lay your mony down, read, Thomas. The Saints do write, they expect a Prophet. ſhortly, The Prophet Baal, to be ſent ouer to them, To calculate a time, and halfe a time, And the whole time, according to Naömetry. What's that? The meaſuring o'the Temple: a Cabal Found out but lately, and ſet out by Archie, Or ſome ſuch head, of whoſe long coat they haue heard, And being black, deſire it. Peace be with them! So there had need, for they are ſtill by the eares One with another. It is their zeale. Moſt likely. Haue you no other of that ſpecies? Yes, But dearer, it will coſt you a ſhilling. Verily, There is a' nine-pence, I will ſhed no more. Not; to the good o'the Saints? I am not ſure, Tha man is good. Read, from Conſtantinople, penny'orth. They giue out here, the grand Signior Is tainely turn'd Chriſtian, and to cleare The controuerſie 'twixt the Pope and him, Which is the Antichriſt; he meanes to viſit The Church at Amſterdam, this very Sommer, And quit all marks o'the beaſt. Now ioyfull tydings. Who brought in this? Which Emiſſary? Buz. Your countrey-man. Now, bleſſed be the man, And his whole Family, with the Nation. Yes, for Amboyna, and the Iuſtice there! This is a Doper, a ſhe Anabaptiſt! Seale and deliuer her her newes, diſpatch.