Randolph, Thomas · published 1638 · first performed or written 1630 [licensed for stage, Nov 25] (Annals) moral · King's Revels Company T19 Virtue, Fortune and Vice as abstractions typicality 0.72 · 514 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T19: virtue, fortune, virtues, honour, fame, vice, envy, world, pride, great.
Now there's none left here, whereon to practise, I'll flatter my dear self— o that my skill Had but a body, that I might embrace it, Kiss it; and hug it, and beget a brood, Another brood of pretty skills upon it! Were I divided I would hate all beauties, And grow enamoured with my other half! Self-love, Narcissus, had not been a fault, Hadst thou, instead of such a beauteous face, Had but a brain like mine: I can gild vice, And praise it into Alchemy, till it go For perfect gold, and cozen almost the touchstone. I can persuade a toad into an ox, Till swelled too big with my Hyperboles She burst a sunder; and 'tis virtue's name Lends me a mask to scandalise herself. Vice, if it be no more, can nothing do; That art is great makes virtue guilty too. I have such strange varieties of colours, Such shift of shapes, blue Proteus sure begot me On a Chameleon, and I change so quick That I suspect my mother did conceive me, As they say Mares do, on some wind or other. I'll peep to see how many fools I made With a report of a miraculous Glass. Heaven bless me, I am ruined! o my brain Witty to my undoing, I have jested Myself to an eternal misery. I see le●…ne hunger with her meager face Ride post to overtake me, I do prophesy A Lent immortal: Phoebus I could curse Thee and thy brittle gifts, Pandora's box Compared with this might be esteemed a blessing. The Glass which I conceived a fabulous humour Is to the height of wonder proved a truth. The two Extremes of every Virtue there Beholding how they either did exceed, Or want of just proportion, joined together, And are reduced into a perfect Mean: As when the skilful and deep learned Physician Does take two different poisons, one that's cold The other in the same degree of heat, And blend's them both to make an Antidote; Or as the Lutanist takes Flats and Sharpes, And out of those so dissonant notes, does strike A ravishing Harmony. Now there is no vice 'Tis a hard world for Colax: What shift now? Dyscolus doth expect me— since this age Is grown too wise to entertain a Parasite, I'll to the Glass, and there turn virtuous too, Still strive to please, though not to flatter you. There is good use indeedla to be made From their Conversion. Very good insooth— lafoy And edifying. Give your eyes some respite. You know already what our Vices be, In the next Act you shall our Virtues see. Now verily I find the devout Bee May suck the honey of good Doctrine thence, And bear it to the hive of her pure family, Whence the profane and irreligious spider Gathers her impious Venom! I have picked Out of the Garden of this Play, a good And wholesome salad of instruction! What do you next present? The several Virtues. I hope there be no Cardinal Virtues there! There be not.
seed 43: T13 · seed 44: T16 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Now there's none left here, wheron to practise, I'le flatter my deare selfe—o that my skill Had but a body, that I might embrace it, Kisse it; and hugge it, and beget a brood, Another brood of pretty skills upon it! Were I divided I would hate all beauties, And grow enamour'd with my other halfe! Selfe-love, Narcissus, had not been a fault, Hadst thou, instead of such a beauteous face, Had but a braine like mine: I can guild vice, And praise it into Alchymie, till it goe For perfect gold, and cozen almost the touchstone. I can perswade a toad into an oxe, Till swel'd too bigge with my Hyperboles She burst a sunder; and 'tis vertues name Lends me a maske to scandalize herselfe. Vice, if it be no more, can nothing doe; That art is great makes vertue guilty too. I have such strange varieties of colours, Such shift of shapes, blew Proteus sure begot me On a Camelion, and I change so quick That I suspect my mother did conceive me, As they say Mares doe, on some wind or other. I'le peepe to see how many fooles I made With a report of a miraculous Glasse. —Heaven blesse me, I am ruin'd! o my braine Witty to my undoing, I have jested My selfe to an eternall misery. I see lene hunger with her meager face Ride poast to overtake me, I doe prophesie A Lent immortall: Phoebus I could curse Thee and thy brittle gifts, Pandora's box Compar'd with this might be esteem'd a blessing. The Glasse which I conceiv'd a fabulous humour Is to the height of wonder prov'd a truth. The two Extreames of every Vertue there Beholding how they either did exceed, Or want of just proportion, joyn'd together, And are reduc'd into a perfect Meane: As when the skilfull and deep learn'd Physitian Does take two different poisons, one that's cold The other in the same degree of heate, And blend's them both to make an Antidote; Or as the Lutanist takes Flats and Sharpes, And out of those so dissonant notes, does strike A ravishing Harmony. Now there is no vice 'Tis a hard world for Colax: What shift now? Dyscolus doth expect me—since this age Is growne too wise to entertaine a Parasite, I'le to the Glasse, and there turne vertuous too, Still strive to please, though not to flatter you. There is good use indeed-la to be made From their Conversion. Very good insooth—la And edifying. Give your eyes some respite. You know already what our Vices be, In the next Act you shall our Vertues see. Now verily I find the devout Bee May suck the hony of good Doctrine thence, And beare it to the hive of her pure family, Whence the prophane and irreligious spider Gathers her impious Venome! I have pick'd Out of the Garden of this Play, a good And wholesome salad of instruction! What doe you next present? The severall Vertues. I hope there be no Cardinall Vertues there! There be not.