Randolph, Thomas · published 1638 · first performed or written 1630 [licensed for stage, Nov 25] (Annals) moral · King's Revels Company unassigned nearest T9 Theatre talk: prologues, poets and playe · 503 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T9: play, stage, poet, prologue, author, wit, plays, muse, scene, players.
SEe Brother how the wicked throng and crowd To works of Vanity! not a nook, or corner In all this house of sin, this cave of filthiness, This den of spiritual thieves, but it is stuffed, Stuffed, and stuffed full as is a cushion With the lewd Reprobate. Sister, were there not before Inns, Yes I will say Inns, for my zeal bids me Say filthy Inns, enough to harbour such As traveled to destruction the broad way; But they 〈◊〉 more and more, more shops of Satan. aboundeth, though pure zeal Teach, preach, huff, puff and snuff at it, yet still Still it aboundeth. Had we seen a Church, A new built Church erected North and South, It had been something worth the wondering at. Good works are done. I say no works are Good. Good works are merely Popish and Apocryphal. But th'bad abound, surround, yea & confound us▪ No matveile now if Play-howses increase, For they are all grown so obscene of late That one begets another. Flat fornication! wonder any body takes delight To hear them prattle. Nay and I have heard That in a— Tragedy, I think they call it, They make no more of killing one another, Than you sell pins. Or you sell feathers brother. But are they not hanged for it? Law grows partial, And finds it but Chance-medley: And their Comedies Will abuse you, or me, or any body; We cannot put our moneys to increase By lawful Usury, nor Break in quiet, Nor put off our false wares, nor keep our wives Finer than others, but our Ghosts must walk Upon their stages. Is not this flat conjureing, To make our Ghosts to walk ere we be dead? That's nothing Mrs Flowrdew, they will play The Knave, the Fool, the Devil and all for money. Impiety! O that men endued with reason Should have no more grace in them! Be there not other Vocations as thriving, and more honest? Bailies, Promoters, jailers, and Apparitours, Beadles, and Marshal's men, the needful instruments Of the Republic; but to make themselves Such monsters? for they are monsters, theyare monsters, Base, sinful, shameless, ugly, vile, deformed Pernicious monsters▪ I have heard our Vicar Call Playhouses the Colledge●… of Transgression, Wherein the seven deadly sins are studied. Why then the City will in time be made An University of Iniquity. We dwell by Blackfriars College, where I wonder How that profane nest of pernicious Birds Dare roost themselves there in the midst of us, So many good and well disposed persons. O impudence! It was a zealous prayer I heard a Brother make, concerning Playhouses: For Charity what is it? That the Globe Wherein (quoth he) reigns a whole world of vice, Had been consumed! The Phoenix burnt to Ashes. The Fortune whipped for a blind whore: Blackfriers He wonders how it scaped demolishing I'th' time of reformation: lastly he wished The Bull might cross the Thames to the Bear-garden, And there be sound baited! A good prayer.
seed 43: T4 · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
SEe Brother how the wicked throng and crowd To works of Vanity! not a nooke, or corner In all this house of sin, this cave of filthinesse, This den of spirituall theeves, but it is stuff'd, Stuffed, and stuff'd full as is a cushion With the lew'd Reprobate. Sister, were there not before Innes, Yes I will say Inns, for my zeale bids me Say filthy Innes, enough to harbour such As travell'd to destruction the broad way; But they more and more, more shops of Satan. aboundeth, though pure zeale Teach, preach, huffe, puffe and snuffe at it, yet still Still it aboundeth. Had we seen a Church, A new built Church erected North and South, It had been something worth the wondring at. Good workes are done. I say no works are Good. Good works are meerely Popish and Apocryphall. But th'bad abound, surround, yea & confound us▪ No matveile now if Play-howses increase, For they are all grown so obscene of late That one begets another. Flat fornication! wonder any body takes delight To hear them prattle. Nay and I have heard That in a—Tragedy, I think they call it, They make no more of killing one another, Then you sell pinnes. Or you sell feathers brother. But are they not hang'd for it? Law growes partiall, And findes it but Chance-medly: And their Comedies Will abuse you, or me, or any body; We cannot put our monies to increase By lawfull Vsury, nor Breake in quiet, Nor put off our false wares, nor keep our wives Finer then others, but our Ghosts must walke Vpon their stages. Is not this flat conjureing, To make our Ghosts to walke ere we be dead? Thats nothing Mrs Flowrdew, they will play The Knave, the Foole, the Divell and all for mony. Impiety! O that men indued with reason Should have no more grace in them! Be there not other Vocations as thriving, and more honest? Bailies, Promooters, Iaylors, and Apparitours, Beadles, and Martialls men, the needfull instruments Of the Republique; but to make themselves Such monsters? for they are monsters, th'are monsters, Base, sinfull, shamelesse, ugly, vile, deform'd Pernitious monsters▪ I have heard our Vicar Call Play-houses the Colledge of Transgression, Wherein the seven deadly sinnes are studied. Why then the City will in time be made An Vniversity of Iniquity. We dwell by Black-Friers Colledge, where I wonder How that prophane nest of pernitious Birds Dare roost themselves there in the midst of us, So many good and well disposed persons. O impudence! It was a zealous prayer I heard a Brother make, concerning Play-houses: For Charity what is it? That the Globe Wherein (quoth he) reigns a whole world of vice, Had been consum'd! The Phoenix burnt to Ashes. The Fortune whipt for a blind whore: Blackfriers He wonders how it scapd demolishing I'th' time of reformation: lastly he wish'd The Bull might crosse the Thames to the Bear-garden, And there be soundly baited! A good prayer.