Jonson, Ben · published 1631 · first performed or written 1616 [Oct-Nov (?)] (Annals) comedy · King's Men T26 Devils, hell and fiends typicality 0.75 · 514 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T26: devil, hell, devils, sure, soul, fiend, sr, wife, lord, men.
Here, what's the matter? O! such an accident fall'n out at Newgate, Sir: A great piece of the prison is rend down! The Devil has been there, Sir, in the body— Of the young Cutpurse, was hanged out this morning, But, in new clothes, Sir, every one of us know him. These things were found in his pocket. Those are mine, Sr. I think he was committed on your charge, Sir. For a new felony Yes. he's gone, Sir, now, And left us the dead body. But withal, Sir, Such an infernal stink, and steam behind, You cannot see St. Pulchar's Steeple, yet. They smelled as far as Ware, as the wind lies, By this time, sure. Is this upon your credit, friend? Sir, you may see, and satisfy yourself. Nay, than, 'tis time to leave of counterfeiting. Sir I am not bewitched, nor have a Devil: Not more than you. I do defy him, I, And did abuse you. These two Gentlemen Put me upon it. (I have faith against him) They taught me all my tricks. I will tell truth, And shame the Fiend. See, here, Sir, are my bellows, And my false belly, and my Mouse, and all That should ha' come forth? Sir, are not you ashamed Now of your solemn, serious vanity? I will make honourable amendss to truth. And so will I. But these are Coozeners, still; And ha' my land, as plotters, with my wife: Who, though she be not a witch, is worse, a whore. Sir, you belie her. She is chaste, and virtuous, And we are honest. I do know no glory A man should hope, by venting his own follies, But you'll still be an Ass, in spite of providence. Please you go in, Sir, and hear truths, than judge 'em: And make amendss for your late rashness; when, You shall but hear the pains and care was taken, To save this fool from ruin (his Grace of Drowned-land) My land is drowned indeed— Peace. And how much His modest and too worthy wife hath suffered By misconstruction, from him, you will blush, First, for your own belief, more for his actions! His land is his: and never, by my friend, Or by myself, meant to another use, But for her succours, who hath equal right. If any other had worse counsels in it, (I know I speak to those can apprehended me) Let 'em repent 'em, and be not detected. It is not manly to take joy, or pride In human errors (we do all ill things, They do 'em worst that love 'em, and devil there, Till the plague comes) The few that have the seeds Of goodness left, will sooner make their way To a true life, by shame, than punishment. THus, the Proiecter, here, is overthrown. But I have now a Project of mine own, If it may pass: that no man would invite The Poet from us, to sup forth to night, If the play please. If it displeasant be, We do presume, that no man will: nor we.
nodes 3655–3720 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 54 of 54 in this edition
Length
514 words · 712 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T26 — Devils, hell and fiendscross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.745 (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)
Here, what's the matter? O! ſuch an accident falne out at Newgate, Sir: A great piece of the priſon is rent downe! The Diuell has beene there, Sir, in the body— Of the young Cut-purſe, was hang'd out this morning, But, in new clothes, Sir, euery one of vs know him. Theſe things were found in his pocket. Thoſe are mine, Sr. I thinke he was commited on your charge, Sir. For a new felony Yes. Hee's gone, Sir, now, And left vs the dead body. But withall, Sir, Such an infernall ſtincke, and ſteame behinde, You cannot ſee St. Pulchars Steeple, yet. They ſmell't as farre as Ware, as the wind lies, By this time, ſure. Is this vpon your credit, friend? Sir, you may ſee, and ſatisfie your ſelfe. Nay, then, 'tis time to leaue off counterfeiting. Sir I am not bewitch'd, nor haue a Diuell: No more then you. I doe defie him, I, And did abuſe you. Theſe two Gentlemen Put me vpon it. (I haue faith againſt him) They taught me all my tricks. I will tell truth, And ſhame the Feind. See, here, Sir, are my bellowes, And my falſe belly, and my Mouſe, and all That ſhould ha' come forth? Sir, are not you aſham'd Now of your ſolemne, ſerious vanity? I will make honorable amends to truth. And ſo will I. But theſe are Coozeners, ſtill; And ha' my land, as plotters, with my wife: Who, though ſhe be not a witch, is worſe, a whore. Sir, you belie her. She is chaſte, and vertuous, And we are honeſt. I doe know no glory A man ſhould hope, by venting his owne follyes, But you'll ſtill be an Aſſe, in ſpight of prouidence. Pleaſe you goe in, Sir, and heare truths, then iudge 'hem: And make amends for your late raſhneſſe; when, You ſhall but heare the paines and care was taken, To ſaue this foole from ruine (his Grace of Drown'd-land) My land is drown'd indeed— Peace. And how much His modeſt and too worthy wife hath ſuffer'd By miſ-conſtruction, from him, you will bluſh, Firſt, for your owne beliefe, more for his actions! His land is his: and neuer, by my friend, Or by my ſelfe, meant to another vſe, But for her ſuccours, who hath equall right. If any other had worſe counſells in 't, (I know I ſpeake to thoſe can apprehend mee) Let 'hem repent 'hem, and be not detected. It is not manly to take ioy, or pride In humane errours (wee doe all ill things, They doe 'hem worſt that loue 'hem, and dwell there, Till the plague comes) The few that haue the ſeeds Of goodneſſe left, will ſooner make their way To a true life, by ſhame, then puniſhment. THus, the Proiecter, here, is ouer-throwne. But I haue now a Proiect of mine owne, If it may paſſe: that no man would inuite The Poet from vs, to ſup forth to night, If the play pleaſe. If it diſpleaſant be, We doe preſume, that no man will: nor wee.