Jonson, Ben · published 1631 · first performed or written 1616 [Oct-Nov (?)] (Annals) comedy · King's Men T26 Devils, hell and fiends typicality 0.85 · 500 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T26: devil, hell, devils, sure, soul, fiend, sr, wife, lord, men.
Why, if he were the Devil, we sha' not need him, If you'll be ruled. Go throw yourself on a bed, Sir, And feign you ill. we'll not be seen wi' you, Till after, that you have a fit: and all Confirmed within. Keep you with the two Ladies And persuade them. I'll to justice Either-side, And possess him with all. Trains shall seek out Engine, And they two fill the town with't, every cable Is to be veered. We must employ out all Our emissaries now; Sir, I will sand you Bladders and bellows. Sir, be confident, 'Tis no hard thing t' out do the Devil in: A Boy o' thirteen year old made him an Ass But t' toher day. Well, I'll begin to practice, And scape the imputation of being Cuckold, By mine own act. ye are right. Come, you ha' put Yourself to a simple coil here, and your friends, By dealing with new Agents, in new plots. Not more o' that, sweet cousin. What had you To do with this same Wittipol, for a Lady? Question not that: 'tis done. You had some strain 'Boue E- la? I had indeed. And, now, you crack for it. Do not upbraid me. Come, you must be told on't; You are so covetous, still, to embrace Moore than you can, that you lose all. 'Tis right. What would you more, than Guilty? Now, your succours. HEre you are lodged, Sir, you must sand your garnish, If you'll be private. There it is, Sir, leave me. To Newgate, brought? How is the name of Devil Discredited in me! What a lost fiend Shall I be, on return? My Chief will roar In triumph, now, that I have been on earth, A day, and done no noted thing, but brought That body back here, was hanged out this morning. Well! would it once were midnight, that I knew My utmost. I think Time be drunk, and sleeps; He is so still, and moves not! I do glory Now i' my torment. Neither can I expect it, I have it with my fact. Child of hell, be thou merry: Put a look on, as round, boy, and read as a cherry. Cast care at thy posterns; and firk i' thy fetters, They are ornaments, Baby, have graced thy betters: Look upon me, and harken. Our Chief doth salute thee, And lest the coldyron should chance to confute thee, HE hath sent thee, grant-parole by me to stay longer A month here on earth, against cold Child, or hunger How? longer here a month? Yes, boy, till the Session, That so thou mayest have a triumphal egression. In a cart, to be hanged. Not, Child, in a Car, The chariot of Triumph, which most of them are. And in the mean time, to be greasy, and bouzy, And nasty, and filthy, and ragged and lousy, With damn me, renounce me, and all the fine phrases; That bring, unto Tyburn, the plentiful gazes.
nodes 3346–3412 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 50 of 54 in this edition
Length
500 words · 708 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T26 — Devils, hell and fiendscross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.850 (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)
Why, if he were the Diuel, we ſha' not need him, If you'll be rul'd. Goe throw your ſelfe on a bed, Sir, And faine you ill. Wee'll not be ſeene wi' you, Till after, that you haue a fit: and all Confirm'd within. Keepe you with the two Ladies And perſwade them. I'll to Iuſtice Either-ſide, And poſſeſſe him with all. Traines ſhall ſeeke out Ingine, And they two fill the towne with't, euery cable Is to be veer'd. We muſt employ out all Our emiſſaries now; Sir, I will ſend you Bladders and Bellowes. Sir, be confident, 'Tis no hard thing t' out doe the Deuill in: A Boy o' thirteene yeere old made him an Aſſe But t' toher day. Well, I'll beginne to practice, And ſcape the imputation of being Cuckold, By mine owne act. yo' are right. Come, you ha' put Your ſelfe to a ſimple coyle here, and your freinds, By dealing with new Agents, in new plots. No more o' that, ſweet couſin. What had you To doe with this ſame Wittipol, for a Lady? Queſtion not that: 'tis done. You had ſome ſtraine 'Boue E-la? I had indeed. And, now, you crack for 't. Do not vpbraid me. Come, you muſt be told on't; You are ſo couetous, ſtill, to embrace More then you can, that you looſe all. 'Tis right. What would you more, then Guilty? Now, your ſuccours. HEre you are lodg'd, Sir, you muſt ſend your garniſh, If you'll be priuat. There it is, Sir, leaue me. To New-gate, brought? How is the name of Deuill Diſcredited in me! What a loſt fiend Shall I be, on returne? My Cheife will roare In triumph, now, that I haue beene on earth, A day, and done no noted thing, but brought That body back here, was hang'd out this morning. Well! would it once were midnight, that I knew My vtmoſt. I thinke Time be drunke, and ſleepes; He is ſo ſtill, and moues not! I doe glory Now i' my torment. Neither can I expect it, I haue it with my fact. Child of hell, be thou merry: Put a looke on, as round, boy, and red as a cherry. Caſt care at thy poſternes; and firke i' thy fetters, They are ornaments, Baby, haue graced thy betters: Looke vpon me, and hearken. Our Cheife doth ſalute thee, And leaſt the coldyron ſhould chance to confute thee, H' hath ſent thee, grant-paroll by me to ſtay longer A moneth here on earth, againſt cold Child, or honger How? longer here a moneth? Yes, boy, till the Seſſion, That ſo thou mayeſt haue a triumphall egreſſion. In a cart, to be hang'd. No, Child, in a Carre, The charriot of Triumph, which moſt of them are. And in the meane time, to be greazy, and bouzy, And naſty, and filthy, and ragged and louzy, With dam'n me, renounce me, and all the fine phraſes; That bring, vnto Tiborne, the plentifull gazes.