Shakespeare, William / Fletcher, John · published 1634 · first performed or written 1613 [1613-1614] (Annals) tragicomedy · King's Men · Blackfriars T9 Theatre talk: prologues, poets and playe typicality 0.71 · 492 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T9: play, stage, poet, prologue, author, wit, plays, muse, scene, players.
NEw Plays, and Maidenheads, are near a kin, Much followed both, for both much money g'yn, If they stand sound, and well; And a good Play (Whose modest Scenes blush on his marriage day, And shake to lose his honour) is like her That after holy tie, and first nights stir Yet still is Modesty, and still retains More of the maid to sight, than Husband's pains; We pray our Play may be so; For I am sure It has a noble Breeder, and a pure, A learned, and a Poet never went More famous yet 'twixt Po and silver Trent. Chaucer (of all admired) the Story gives, There constant to Eternity it lives; If we let fall the Nobleness of this, And the first sound this child bear, be a hiss, How will it shake the bones of that good man, And make him cry from under ground, O fan From me the witless chaff of such a wrighter That blasts my Bays, and my famed works makes lighter Than Robin Hood? This is the fear we bring; For to say Truth, it were an endless thing, And too ambitious to aspire to him; Weak as we are, and almost breathless swim In this deep water. Do but you hold out Your helping hands, and we shall take about, And something do to save us: You shall hear Scenes though below his Art, may yet appear Worth two hours' travel. To his bones sweet sleep: Content to you. If this play do not keep, A little dull time from us, we perceive Our losses fall so thick, we must needs leave. ROses their sharp spines being gone, Not royal in their smells alone, But in their hue. Maiden Pinks, of odour faint, Daisies smel-lesse, yet most quaint And sweet Time true. Primrose first borne, child of Ver, Merry Spring times Harbinger, With her bells dim. Oxlips, in their Cradles growing, Marygolds, on death beds blowing, Larkes-heeles trim. All dear nature's children: sweet- lie fore Bride and Bridegroom's feet Blessing their sense. Not an angle of the air, Bird melodious, or bird fair, Is absent hence. The Crow, the slanderous Cuckoo, nor The boding Raven, nor Clough he Nor chattring Pie, May on our Bridehouse perch or sing, Or with them any discord bring But from it fly. For pities sake and true gentilities, Hear, and respect me. For your Mother's sake. And as you wish your womb may thrive with fair ones, Hear and respect me, Now for the love of him whom Iove hath marked The honour of your Bed, and for the sake Of clear virginity, be Advocate For us, and our distresses: This good deed Shall raze you out o'th' Book of Trespasses All you are set down there. Sad Lady rise. Stand up. No knees to me. What woman I may steed that is distressed, Does bind me to her. What's your request? Deliver you for all.
seed 43: T16 · seed 44: T15 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
NEw Playes, and Maydenheads, are neare a kin, Much follow'd both, for both much mony g'yn, If they stand sound, and well; And a good Play (Whose modest Sceanes blush on his marriag day, And shake to loose his honour) is like hir That after holy Tye, and first nights stir Yet still is Modestie, and still retaines More of the maid to sight, than Husbands paines; We pray our Play may be so; For I am sure It has a noble Breeder, and a pure, A learned, and a Poet never went More famous yet twixt Po and silver Trent. Chaucer (of all admir'd) the Story gives, There constant to Eternity it lives; If we let fall the Noblenesse of this, And the first sound this child beare, be a hisse, How will it shake the bones of that good man, And make him cry from under ground, O fa From me the witles chaffe of such a wrighter That blastes my Bayes, and my fam'd workes makes lighter Then Robin Hood? This is the feare we bring; For to say Trut, it wae an endlesse thing, And too ambitious to to him; Weake as we are, and almost breathlesse swim In this deepe water. you hold out Your helping hands, and we shall take about, And something do : You shall heare Sceanes though Art, may yet appeare Worth two houres travell. To his nes sweet sleepe: Content to you. If this play doe not keepe, A little dull time from us, we perceave Our losses fall so thicke, we must needs leave. ROses their sharpe spines being gon, Not royall in their smels alone, But in their hew. Maiden Pinckes, ofodour faint, Dazies smel-lesse, yet most quaint And sweet Time true. Prim-rose first borne, child of Ver, Merry Spring times Herbinger, With her bels dimme. Oxlips, in their Cradles growing, Mary-golds, on death beds blowing, Larkes-heeles trymme. All deere natures children: sweete- Ly fore Bride and Bridegroomes feet Blessing their sence. Not an angle of the aire, Bird mclodious, or bird faire, Is absent hence. The Crow, the ndrous Cuckoe, nor The boding Raven, nor Clough hee Nor hattring Pie, May on our Bridehouse pearch or sing, Or with them any discord bring But from it fly. For pitties sake and true gentilities, Heare, and respect me. For your Mothers sake. And as you wish your womb may thrive with faire ones, Heare and respect me, Now for the love of him whom love hath markd The honour of your Bed, and for the sake Of cleere virginity, be Advocate For us, and our distresses: This good deede Shall raze you out o'th Booke of Trespasses All you are set downe there. Sad Lady ise. Stand up. No knees to me. What woman I may steed that is distrest, Does bind me to her. What's your request? Deliver you for all.