Jonson, Ben · published 1631 · first performed or written 1616 [Oct-Nov (?)] (Annals) comedy · King's Men T26 Devils, hell and fiends typicality 0.82 · 515 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T26: devil, hell, devils, sure, soul, fiend, sr, wife, lord, men.
THe DEVIL is an Ass. That is, to day, The name of what you are met for, a new Play. Yet, Grandees, would you were not come to grace Our matter, with allowing us no place. Though you presume SATAN a subtle thing, And may have heard he's worn in a thumb-ring; Do not on these presumptions, force us act, In compass of a cheese-trencher. This tract Will ne'er admit our vice, because of yours. Anon, who, worse than you, the fault endures That yourselves make? when you will thrust and spurn, And knock us o'the elbows, and bid, turn; As if, when we had spoke, we must be gone, Or, till we speak, must all run in, to one, Like the young adders, at the old ones mouth? Would we could stand due North; or had no South, If that offend: or were Muscovy glass, That you might look our Scenes through as they pass. We know not how to affect you. If you'll come To see new Plays, pray you afford us room, And show this, but the same face you have done Your dear delight, the Devil of Edmonton. Or, if, for want of room it must miscarry, 'Twill be but justice, that your censure tarry, Till you give some. And when six times you ha' seen't, If this Play do not like, the Devil is in't. HOh, hoh, hoh, hoh, hoh, hoh, hoh, hoh, etc. To earth? and, why to earth, thou fooolish Spirit? What wouldst thou do on earth? For that, great Chief! As time shall work. I do but ask my month. Which every petty puny Devil has; Within that term, the Court of Hell will hear Some thing, may gain a longer grant, perhaps. For what? the laming a poor Cow, or two? Entering a Sow, to make her cast her farrow? Or crossing of a Mercat-womans' Mare, Twixt this, and Totnam? these were want to be Your main achievements, Pug, You have some plot, now, Upon a tonning of Ale, to stolen the yeast, Or keep the churn so, that the buttter come not; Spite o'the housewives cord, or her hot spit? Or some good Rib, about Kentish Town, Or Hogsden, you would hung now, for a witch, Because she will not let you play round Robin: And you'll go sour the Citizen's Cream 'gainst Sunday? That she may be accused for't, and condemned, By a Middlesex jury, to the satisfaction Of their offended friends, the Londoners wives Whose teeth were set on edge with it? Foolish fiend, Stay ● ' your place, know your own strengths, and put not Beyond the sphere of your activity. You are too dull a Devil to be trusted Forth in those parts, Pug, upon any affair That may concern our name, on earth. It is not Every one's work. The state of Hell must care Whom it employs, in point of reputation, Hear about London. You would make, I think An Agent, to be sent, for Lancashire, Proper enough; or some parts of Northumberland, So ye had good instructions, Pug.
nodes 0–60 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 1 of 54 in this edition
Length
515 words · 721 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T26 — Devils, hell and fiendscross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.821 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
seed 43: T23 · seed 44: T23 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
THe DIVELL is an Aſſe. That is, to day, The name of what you are met for, a new Play. Yet, Grandee's, would you were not come to grace Our matter, with allowing vs no place. Though you preſume SATAN a ſubtill thing, And may haue heard hee's worne in a thumbe-ring; Doe not on theſe preſumptions, force vs act, In compaſſe of a cheeſe-trencher. This tract Will ne'er admit our vice, becauſe of yours. Anone, who, worſe then you, the fault endures That your ſelues make? when you will thruſt and ſpurne, And knocke vs o'the elbowes, and bid, turne; As if, when wee had ſpoke, wee muſt be gone, Or, till wee ſpeake, must all runne in, to one, Like the young adders, at the old ones mouth? Would wee could ſtand due North; or had no South, If that offend: or were Muſcouy glaſſe, That you might looke our Scenes through as they paſſe. We know not how to affect you. If you'll come To ſee new Playes, pray you affoord vs roome, And ſhew this, but the ſame face you haue done Your deare delight, the Diuell of Edmunton. Or, if, for want of roome it muſt miſ-carry, 'Twill be but Iuſtice, that your cenſure tarry, Till you giue ſome. And when ſixe times you ha' ſeen't, If this Play doe not like, the Diuell is in't. HOh, hoh, hoh, hoh, hoh, hoh, hoh, hoh, &c. To earth? and, why to earth, thou foooliſh Spirit? What wold'ſt thou do on earth? For that, great Chiefe! As time ſhal work. I do but ask my mon'th. Which euery petty pui'nee Diuell has; Within that terme, the Court of Hell will heare Some thing, may gaine a longer grant, perhaps. For what? the laming a poore Cow, or two? Entring a Sow, to make her caſt her farrow? Or croſſing of a Mercat-womans Mare, Twixt this, and Totnam? theſe were wont to be Your maine atchieuements, Pug, You haue ſome plot, now, Vpon a tonning of Ale, to ſtale the yeſt, Or keepe the churne ſo, that the buttter come not; Spight o'the houſewiues cord, or her hot ſpit? Or ſome good Ribibe, about Kentiſh Towne, Or Hogſden, you would hang now, for a witch, Becauſe ſhee will not let you play round Robbin: And you'll goe ſowre the Citizens Creame 'gainſt Sunday? That ſhe may be accus'd for't, and condemn'd, By a Middleſex Iury, to the ſatisfaction Of their offended friends, the Londiners wiues Whoſe teeth were ſet on edge with it? Fooliſh feind, Stay ' your place, know your owne ſtrengths, and put not Beyond the ſpheare of your actiuity. You are too dull a Diuell to be truſted Forth in thoſe parts, Pug, vpon any affayre That may concerne our name, on earth. It is not Euery ones worke. The ſtate of Hell muſt care Whom it imployes, in point of reputation, Heere about London. You would make, I thinke An Agent, to be ſent, for Lancaſhire, Proper inough; or ſome parts of Northumberland, So yo' had good inſtructions, Pug.