Fletcher, John / Massinger, Philip · published 1637 · first performed or written 1625(?) (Annals) comedy · King's Men · Blackfriars unassigned nearest T35 Fools, wit and railing · 459 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T35: fool, wit, aristippus, achilles, wise, fools, patroclus, thersites, master, men.
And grow rich In your imagination, heyday, heyday, Georgics, and Bucolics, and Bees! Art mad? No Sir, the knowledge of these guard me from it. But can you find among your bundle of books, (And put in all your Dictionaries that speak all tongues) What pleasures they enjoy, that do embrace A well shaped wealthy Bride? Answer me that. 'tis frequent Sir in story, there I read of All kind of virtuous and vicious women, The ancient Spartan Dames, and Roman Ladies, Their beauties, and deformities, and when I light upon a Portia or Cornelia, Crowned with still flourishing leaves of truth and goodness, With such a feeling I peruse their fortunes, As if I then had lived, and freely tasted Their ravishing sweetness; at the present loving The whole sex for their goodness and example. But on the contrary when I look on A Clytaemnestra or a Tullia, The first bathed in her husband's blood; The later, Without a touch of piety, driving on Her Chariot o'er her father's breathless trunk; Horror invades my faculties; and comparing The multitudes o'th' guilty, with the few That did die Innocents, I detest, and loathe ''em As ignorance or Atheism. You resolve then ne'er to make payment of the debt your owe me. What debt, good Sir. A debt I paid my father When I begat thee, and made him a Grandsire, Which I expect from you. The children Sir, Which I will leave to all posterity, Begot and brought up by my painful studies, Shall be my living issue. Very well, And I shall have a general collection Of all the quiddits from Adam to this time To be my grandchild. And such a one I hope Sir, As shall not shame the Family. Nor will you Take care of my estate. But in my wishes, For know Sir, that the wings on which my Soul Is mounted, have long since borne her too high To stoop to any prey, that soars not upwards, Sordid and dunghill minds composed of earth, In that gross Element fix all their happiness; But purer spirits, purged and refined, shake off That clog of humane frailty; give me leave T'enjoy myself, that place that does contain My Books (the best Companions) is to me A glorious Court, where hourly I converse With the old Sages and Philosophers, And sometimes for variety, I confer With Kings and Emperors, and weigh their Counsels, Calling their Victories (if unjustly got) Unto a strict account, and in my fancy, Deface their ill placed Statues; Can I then Part with such constant pleasures, to embrace Uncertain vanities? No, be it your care T'augment your heap of wealth; It shall be mine T'encrease in knowledge— Lights there for my study.
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
And grow rich In your imagination, heyday, heyday, Georgicks, and Bucolicks, and Bees! Art mad? No Sir, the knowledge of these guard me from it. But can you finde among your bundle of bookes, (And put in all your Dictionaries that speake all tongues) What pleasures they enjoy, that doe embrace A well shap'd wealthy Bride? Answer me that. Tis frequent Sir in story, there I read of All kinde of vertuous and vitious women, The ancient Spartan Dames, and Roman Ladyes, Their beauties, and deformities, and when I light upon a Portia or Cornelia, Crown'd with still flourishing leaves of truth and goodnesse, With such a feeling I peruse their fortunes, As if I then had liv'd, and freely tasted Their ravishing sweetnesse; at the present loving The whole sexe for their goodnesse and example. But on the contrary when I looke on A Clytemnestra or a Tullia, The first bath'd in her husbands blood; The later, Without a touch of piety, driving on Her Chariot ore her fathers breathlesse trunke; Horrour invades my faculties; and comparing The multitudes o'th' guilty, with the few That did dye Innocents, I detest, and loathe'm As ignorance or Atheisme. You resolve then Nere to make payment of the debt your owe me. What debt, good Sir. A debt I paid my father When I begat thee, and made him a Grandsire, Which I expect from you. The children Sir, Which I will leave to all posterity, Begot and brought up by my painefull studies, Shall be my living issue. Very well, And I shall have a generall collection Of all the quiddits from Adam to this time To be my grandchilde. And such a one I hope Sir, As shall not shame the Family. Nor will you Take care of my estate. But in my wishes, For know Sir, that the wings on which my Soule Is mounted, have long since borne her too high To stoope to any prey, that soares not upwards, Sordid and dunghill mindes compos'd of earth, In that grosse Element fixe all their happinesse; But purer spirits, purg'd and refin'd, shake off That clog of humane frailty; give me leave T'enjoy my selfe, that place that does containe My Books (the best Companions) is to me A glorious Court, where howrely I converse With the old Sages and Philosophers, And sometimes for variety, I conferre With Kings and Emperours, and weigh their Councels, Calling their Victories (if unjustly got) Unto a strict accompt, and in my phancy, Deface their ill plac'd Statues; Can I then Part with such constant pleasures, to imbrace Uncertaine vanities? No, be it your care T'augment your heape of wealth; It shall be mine T'encrease in knowledge—Lights there for my study.