Renaissance Drama — Topics · seed 42

The Devil Is an Ass · chunk 9 of 54

Jonson, Ben · published 1631 · first performed or written 1616 [Oct-Nov (?)] (Annals)
comedy · King's Men
T28 Marriage-making: weddings, brides and ma typicality 0.84 · 491 words

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Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T28: married, marriage, wedding, day, bride, father, wife, luce, love, husband.

All my young Gallants, let 'em bring their friends too: Shall I forbidden 'hem? Not, let heaven forbidden 'em: Or wit, if't have any charge on 'hem. Come, thy ear, wife, Is all, I'll borrow of thee. Set your watch, Sir, Thou, only art to hear, not speak a word, Dove, To aught he says. That I do give you in precept, Not less than council, on your wifehood, wife, Not though he flatter you, or make court, or Love, (As you must look for these) or say, he rail; What ere his arts be, wife, I will have thee Delude 'em with a trick, thy obstinate silence; I know advantages; and I love to hit These pragmatic young men, at their own weapons. Is your watch ready? Here my sail bears, for you: Tack toward him, sweet Pinnace, where's your watch? I'll set it, Sir, with yours. I must obey. Her modesty seems to suffer with her beauty, And so, as if his folly were away, It were worth pity. Now, th' are right, begin, Sir. But first, let me repeat the contract, briefly, I am, Sir, to enjoy this cloak, I stand in, Freely, and as your gift; upon condition You may as freely, speak here to my spouse, Your quarter of an hour always keeping The measured distance of your yard, or more, From my said Spouse: and in my sight and hearing. This is your covenant? Yes, but you'll allow For this time spent, now? Set 'em so much back. I think, I shall not need it. Well, begin, Sir, There is your bound, Sir. Not beyond that rush. If you interrupt me, Sir, I shall discloak you. The time I have purchased, Lady, is but short; And, therefore, if I employ it thriftily, I hope I stand the nearer to my pardon. I am not here, to tell you, you are fair, Or lovely, or how well you dress you, Lady, I'll save myself that eloquence of your glass, Which can speak these things better to you than I. And 'tis a knowledge, wherein fools may be As wise as a Court Parliament. Nor come I, With any prejudice, or doubt, that you Should, to the notice of your own worth, need Lest revelation. she's a simple woman, Knows not her good: (who ever knows her ill) And at all characts. That you are the wife, To so much blasted flesh, as scarce hath soul, In stead of salt, to keep it sweet; I think, Will ask no witnesses, to prove. The cold Sheets that you lie in, with the watching candle, That sees, how dull to any thaw of beauty, Pieces, and quarters, half, and whole nights, sometimes, The Devil-given Elfin Squire, your husband, Doth leave you, quitting here his proper circle, For a much-worse i' the walks of Lincoln's Inn, Under the Elms, t' expect the fiend in vain, there Will confess for you.
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Details

Metadata, position in the edition, topic in the other seeds
PlayThe Devil Is an Ass
AuthorJonson, Ben
Publication year (edition)1631
First performance / composition (Annals)1616 [Oct-Nov (?)]
First performance (BritDrama)1616
Company (BritDrama)King's Men
Genre (British Drama)comedy
Play typeAdult Professional;Professional
Edition / TCP / DEEPedition 973 · TCP A72473 · DEEP 5124.003
Edition roleRepresentative edition — used in the analysis
Positionnodes 523–583 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 9 of 54 in this edition
Length491 words · 679 tokens
Topic (seed 42)T28 — Marriage-making: weddings, brides and matches cross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.842 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seedsseed 43: T6 · seed 44: T7 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
All my young Gallants, let 'hem bring their friends too: Shall I forbid 'hem? No, let heauen forbid 'hem: Or wit, if't haue any charge on 'hem. Come, thy eare, wife, Is all, I'll borrow of thee. Set your watch, Sir, Thou, onely art to heare, not ſpeake a word, Doue, To ought he ſayes. That I doe gi' you in precept, No leſſe then councell, on your wiue-hood, wife, Not though he flatter you, or make court, or Loue, (As you muſt looke for theſe) or ſay, he raile; What ere his arts be, wife, I will haue thee Delude 'hem with a trick, thy obſtinate ſilence; I know aduantages; and I loue to hit Theſe pragmaticke young men, at their owne weapons. Is your watch ready? Here my ſaile beares, for you: Tack toward him, ſweet Pinnace, where's your watch? I'le ſet it, Sir, with yours. I muſt obey. Her modeſty ſeemes to ſuffer with her beauty, And ſo, as if his folly were away, It were worth pitty. Now, th' are right, beginne, Sir. But firſt, let me repeat the contract, briefely, I am, Sir, to inioy this cloake, I ſtand in, Freely, and as your gift; vpon condition You may as freely, ſpeake here to my ſpouſe, Your quarter of an houre alwaies keeping The meaſur'd diſtance of your yard, or more, From my ſaid Spouſe: and in my ſight and hearing. This is your couenant? Yes, but you'll allow For this time ſpent, now? Set 'hem ſo much backe. I thinke, I ſhall not need it. Well, begin, Sir, There is your bound, Sir. Not beyond that ruſh. If you interrupt me, Sir, I ſhall diſcloake you. The time I haue purchaſt, Lady, is but ſhort; And, therefore, if I imploy it thriftily, I hope I ſtand the neerer to my pardon. I am not here, to tell you, you are faire, Or louely, or how well you dreſſe you, Lady, I'll ſaue my ſelfe that eloquence of your glaſſe, Which can ſpeake theſe things better to you then I. And 'tis a knowledge, wherein fooles may be As wiſe as a Court Parliament. Nor come I, With any preiudice, or doubt, that you Should, to the notice of your owne worth, neede Leaſt reuelation. Shee's a ſimple woman, Know's not her good: (who euer knowes her ill) And at all caracts. That you are the wife, To ſo much blaſted fleſh, as ſcarce hath ſoule, In ſtead of ſalt, to keepe it ſweete; I thinke, Will aske no witneſſes, to proue. The cold Sheetes that you lie in, with the watching candle, That ſees, how dull to any thaw of beauty, Pieces, and quarters, halfe, and whole nights, ſometimes, The Diuell-giuen Elfine Squire, your husband, Doth leaue you, quitting heere his proper circle, For a much-worſe i' the walks of Lincolnes Inne, Vnder the Elmes, t' expect the feind in vaine, there Will confeſſe for you.