Penny Dreadfuls, 1602 · page 203 of 400
Penny Dreadful Cover — page 203: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Page Analysis This is a page of running prose poetry from what appears to be "Albions England," a historical narrative poem. The text depicts a speaker recounting encounters with supernatural or allegorical figures—a creature called "Dis" who gave him black wings, and a Mole who confronts him in darkness. The verse narrates the speaker's warnings about ambition and pride, his subsequent misadventures, and a mysterious meeting with the Mole that ends mid-sentence. The densely printed page is characteristic of early modern printed literature rather than Victorian penny dreadful format, despite the OCR header attribution.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
fee a « yi “ .: ’ i tae ~ ALBIONS” ENGLAND. | Aa ‘hough! fay it) long time he deferued fauors well, For quayling Foe men,and at home {uch Vermen as rebell And for the fame the Weafell did him mightily preferre : But Honors made him haughtie,and his haughtines to erre, { will be plaine,he waxt too ‘prowd,and plotted higher drifts Than fitted him,or fadged well,tor who haue thriu’d by fhifts? | yA Nor will [fay (becaufe his fonne) he wrong’d the Weafell but ee The Weafell died,and that that did fucceede to fhifts he put. ig For which his Fathers Fortune did oretake him at the laft: yt a _ Such fickelneflein earthly pompe,which, flowing ebs as fafk, ae This double warning might hane iekt vnto my wit,bur I - Did follow Kinde: Nay,more,I did importune Dés to fly, a _ And he did giue me thefe blacke wings, refembling him that paue the, ; A proper Gift,and hardly got,tofhamemenowIhauethem, But know yee D#s? fome P/uto him or Limbos God doe call, a Or, aptlier faid,in Hell of diuels the Chiefe and Principall: ie And fomwhat now of him and how I changed -fay I thall. may. I hapned ona Cranny,whilft my Moufe-daies laftedwhich = | entring wandred crooked Nookes and pathesasdarkeaspitch: | Theare,hauing loft my felfe,I {ought the open aire in vaine, ey, Both wanting foode,& lioht, and life well neere through trauels all The Moole by chaunce did crofle my way,and (as ye know) her doncdli.} Supplies her want of fight and ferues her purpofe full as well: I heatd a tracing found sand, skar’d,my haire did ftand vpright, Norcould I fee,¢ or fly but feare and blefle me from a Spright: | She had me,hild me,queftions of my being theare the caufe, |. And in meane while perufeth me with fauourable clawes, | Iwas aboutto plead for life when the preuents me thus: | Ha,Cofen Moufe,what Fortune giues this meeting heere to vs? i Feare not my Sonne (I call thee Sonnebecanfe | loue thee Ch) | a Doe hold thy felfeas merry heere as in a Pantlers hutch, a What know ftnorme ? or fee’{t chou not ? with that fhe leadeth me) :iiles N = Into boo cS: co m e ” . 4 . 2...