Jonson, Ben · published 1631 · first performed or written 1616 [Oct-Nov (?)] (Annals) comedy · King's Men T26 Devils, hell and fiends typicality 0.86 · 517 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T26: devil, hell, devils, sure, soul, fiend, sr, wife, lord, men.
The justice sure will prove the merrier man! This is most strange, Sir! Come not to confront Authority with impudence: I tell you, I do detest it. Here comes the King's Constable, And with him a right worshipful Commoner; My good friend, Master Guilt-head! I am glad I can before such witnesses, profess My conscience, and my detestation of it. Horrible! most unnatural! Abominable! You do not tumble enough. Wallow, gnash: O, how he is vexed! 'Tis too manifest. Give him more soap to foam with, now lie still. And act a little. What does he now, Sr. Show The taking of Tobacco, with which the Devil Is so delighted. Hum! And calls for Hum. You takers of strong Waters, and Tobacco, Mark this. Yellow, yellow, yellow, yellow, etc. That's Starch! the Devil's Idol of that colour. He ratifies it, with clapping of his hands. The proofs are pregnant. How the Devil can act! He is the Master of Players! Master Guilt-head, And Poets, too! you heard him talk in rhyme! I had forgot to observe it to you, ere while! See, he spits fire. O no, he plays at Figgum, The Devil is the Author of wicked Figgum— Why speak you not unto him? If I had All innocence of man to be endangered, And he could save, or ruin it: I'd not breathe A syllable in request, to such a fool, He makes himelfe. O they whisper, whisper, whisper. We shall have more, of Devils a score, To come to dinner, in me the sinner. Alas, poor Gentleman! Put 'em asunder. Keep 'em one from the other. Are you frantic, Sir, Or what grave dotage moves you, to take part With so much villainy? we are not afraid Either of law, or trial; let us be Examined what our ends were, what the means? To work by; and possibility of those means. Do not conclude against us, ere you hear us. I will not hear you, yet I will conclude Out of the circumstances. Will you so, Sir? Yes, they are palpable: Not as your folly: I will discharge my conscience, and do all To the Meridian of justice: You do well, Sir. Provide me to eat, three or four dishes o' good meat, I'll feast them, and their trains, a justice head and brains Shall be the first. The Devil loves not justice, There you may see. A spare-rib o' my wife, And a whore's purtenance! a Guilt-head whole. Be not you troubled, Sir, the Devil speaks it. Yes, wis, Knight, shit, Poule, jowl, owl, foul, troll, bowl. Cram, another of the devil's games! Speak, Sir, some Greek, if you can. Is not the justice A solemn gamester? Peace. , , . He curses In Greek, I think. Your Spanish, that I taught you. Quebrémos elojo de burlas, How? your rest— Let's break his neck in jest, the Devil says, Di grátia, Signior miose haúcte denári fataméne part. What, would the Devil borrow money? Ouy, Ouy Monsieur, ùn pàuure Diable! Diablet in! It is the devil, by his several languages. Where's Sr. Poule Eitherside?
nodes 3565–3654 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 53 of 54 in this edition
Length
517 words · 765 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T26 — Devils, hell and fiendscross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.863 (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 Iuſtice ſure will proue the merrier man! This is moſt ſtrange, Sir! Come not to confront Authority with impudence: I tell you, I doe deteſt it. Here comes the Kings Conſtable, And with him a right worſhipfull Commoner; My good friend, Maſter Guilt-head! I am glad I can before ſuch witneſſes, profeſſe My conſcience, and my deteſtation of it. Horible! moſt vnaturall! Abominable! You doe not tumble enough. Wallow, gnaſh: O, how he is vexed! 'Tis too manifeſt. Giue him more ſoap to foame with, now lie ſtill. And act a little. What do's he now, Sr. Shew The taking of Tabacco, with which the Diuell Is ſo delighted. Hum! And calls for Hum. You takers of ſtrong Waters, and Tabacco, Marke this. Yellow, yellow, yellow, yellow, &c. That's Starch! the Diuells Idoll of that colour. He ratifies it, with clapping of his hands. The proofes are pregnant. How the Diuel can act! He is the Maſter of Players! Maſter Guilt-head, And Poets, too! you heard him talke in rime! I had forgot to obſerue it to you, ere while! See, he ſpits fire. O no, he plaies at Figgum, The Diuell is the Author of wicked Figgum— Why ſpeake you not vnto him? If I had All innocence of man to be indanger'd, And he could ſaue, or ruine it: I'ld not breath A ſyllable in requeſt, to ſuch a foole, He makes himelfe. O they whiſper, whiſper, whiſper. Wee ſhall haue more, of Diuells a ſcore, To come to dinner, in mee the ſinner. Alas, poore Gentleman! Put 'hem aſunder. Keepe 'hem one from the other. Are you phrenticke, Sir, Or what graue dotage moues you, to take part VVith ſo much villany? wee are not afraid Either of law, or triall; let vs be Examin'd what our ends were, what the meanes? To worke by; and poſſibility of thoſe meanes. Doe not conclude againſt vs, ere you heare vs. I will not heare you, yet I will conclude Out of the circumſtances. VVill you ſo, Sir? Yes, they are palpable: Not as your folly: I will diſcharge my conſcience, and doe all To the Meridian of Iuſtice: You doe well, Sir. Prouide mee to eat, three or foure diſhes o' good meat, I'll feaſt them, and their traines, a Iuſtice head and braines Shall be the firſt. The Diuell loues not Iuſtice, There you may ſee. A ſpare-rib o' my wife, And a whores purt'nance! a Guilt-head whole. Be not you troubled, Sir, the Diuell ſpeakes it. Yes, wis, Knight, ſhite, Poule, Ioule, owle, foule, troule, boule. Crambe, another of the Diuell's games! Speake, Sir, ſome Greeke, if you can. Is not the Iuſtice A ſolemne gameſter? Peace. , , . Hee curſes In Greeke, I thinke. Your Spaniſh, that I taught you. Quebrémos elojo de burlas, How? your reſt— Let's breake his necke in ieſt, the Diuell ſaies, Di grátia, Signòr mioſe haúcte denári fataméne parte. What, would the Diuell borrow money? Ouy, Ouy Monſieur, ùn pàuure Diable! Diablet in! It is the diuell, by his ſeuerall languages. Where's Sr. Poule Ether-ſide?