Fletcher, John / Massinger, Philip · published 1637 · first performed or written 1625(?) (Annals) comedy · King's Men · Blackfriars unassigned nearest T35 Fools, wit and railing · 495 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T35: fool, wit, aristippus, achilles, wise, fools, patroclus, thersites, master, men.
They are not Revealed to all beads; These are far above Your Element of Fire, Cook, I could tell you Of Archimedes' glass to fire your coals with, And of the philosopher's turf that ne'er goes out; And Gilbert Butler, I could ravish thee, With two rare inventions. What are they Andrew? The one to blanch your bread from chippings base, And in a moment, as thou wouldst an Almond, The Sect of the Epicurians invented that; The other for thy trenchers, that's a strong one, To cleanse you twenty dozen in a minute, And no noise heard, which is the wonder Gilbert, And this was out of Plato's new ideas. Why what a learned Master dost thou serve Andrew? These are but the scrapings of his understanding, Gilbert; With gods and goddesses, and such strange people He deals, and treats with in so plain a fashion, As thou dost with thy boy that draws thy drink, Or Ralph there with his kitchen boys and scalders. But why should he not be familiar and talk sometimes, As other Christians do, of hearty matters, And come into the Kitchen, and there cut his breakfast? And then retire to the Buttery and there eat it, And drink a lusty bowl, my younger Master That must be now the heir will do all these, I and be drunk too; These are mortal things. My Master studies immortality. Now thou talk'st Of immortality, how does thy wife Andrew? My old Master Did you no small pleasure when he procured her And stocked you in a fame. If he should love her now, As he hath a colt's tooth yet, what says your learning And your strange instruments to that my Andrew? Can any of your learned Clerks avoid it? Can ye put by his Mathematical Engine? Yes, or I'll break it; thou awaken'st me, And I'll peep i'th' Moon this month but I'll watch for him. My Master rings, I must go make him a fire, And conjure o'er his books. Adieu good Andrew, And send thee manly patience with thy learning. I have forgot to eat and sleep with reading, And all my faculties turn into study, 'tis meat and sleep, what need I outward garments, When I can clothe myself with understanding, The Stars and glorious Planets have no Tailors, Yet ever new they are and shine like Courtiers, The seasons of the year find no fond parents, Yet some are armed in silver Ice that glisters, And some in gaudy green come in like Masquers, The Silkworm spins her own suit and her lodging, And has no aid nor partner in her labours; Why should we care for any thing but knowledge, Or look upon the world but to contemn it? Would you have anything? Andrew, I find There is a sty grown o'er the eye o'th' Bull, Which will go near to blind the Constellation. Put a gold-ring in's nose, and that will cure him.
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)
They are not Reveal'd to all beads; These are farre above Your Element of Fire, Cooke, I could tell you Of Archimides glasse to fire your coales with, And of the Philosophers turfe that nere goes out; And Gilbert Butler, I could ravish thee, With two rare inventions. What are they Andrew? The one to blanch your bread from chippings base, And in a moment, as thou would'st an Almond, The Sect of the Epicurians invented that; The other for thy trenchers, that's a strong one, To cleanse you twenty dozen in a minute, And no noise heard, which is the wonder Gilbert, And this was out of Plato's new Idea's. Why what a learned Master do'st thou serve Andrew? These are but the scrapings of his understanding, Gilbert; With gods and goddesses, and such strange people He deales, and treats with in so plaine a fashion, As thou do'st with thy boy that drawes thy drinke, Or Ralph there with his kitchin boyes and scalders. But why should he not be familiar and talke sometimes, As other Christians doe, of hearty matters, And come into the Kitchin, and there cut his breakfast? And then retyre to the Buttry and there eate it, And drinke a lusty bowle, my younger Master That must be now the heire will doe all these, I and be drunke too; These are mortall things. My Master studies immortality. Now thou talk'st Of immortality, how do's thy wife Andrew? My old Master Did you no small pleasure when he procur'd her And stock'd you in a fame. If he should love her now, As he hath a Colts tooth yet, what sayes your learning And your strange instruments to that my Andrew? Can any of your learned Clerkes avoid it? Can ye put by his Mathematicall Engine? Yes, or Ile breake it; thou awaken'st me, And Ile peepe ith' Moone this moneth but Ile watch for him. My Master rings, I must goe make him a fire, And conjure ore his bookes. Adieu good Andrew, And send thee manly patience with thy learning. I have forgot to eate and sleepe with reading, And all my faculties turne into studie, Tis meat and sleepe, what need I outward garments, When I can cloathe my selfe with understanding, The Starres and glorious Planets have no Tailors, Yet ever new they are and shine like Courtiers, The seasons of the yeere finde no fond parents, Yet some are arm'd in silver Ice that glisters, And some in gawdy greene come in like Masquers, The Silke-worme spinnes her owne suite and her lodging, And has no aide nor partner in her labours; Why should we care for any thing but knowledge, Or looke upon the world but to contemne it? Would you have anything? Andrew, I finde There is a stie growne ore the eye oth' Bull, Which will goe neere to blinde the Constellation. Put a gold-ring in's nose, and that will cure him.