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 0.74 · 525 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T19: virtue, fortune, virtues, honour, fame, vice, envy, world, pride, great.
Then I'll stay; I hate a Virtue That will be made a Cardinal: Cardinal virtues, Next to Pope-vertues, are most impious; And Bishop-vertues are unwarrantable: I will allow of none but Deacon-vertues, Or Elder-vertues. These are Moral virtues. Are they Lay-vertues? Yes! Then they are lawful, Virtues in Orders are unsanctified. We do present them royal, as they are In all their state, in a full dance. What dance? No wanton jig I hope, no dance is lawful But Prinkam Prankam! Will Virtues dance? I hate a Virtue in a Morris-dance! O vile, absurd, may pole— maid-marian virtue Dancing is lawful. Who's this? It is the mother of the Virtues. Mother of Pearl I think, she is so gaudy It is the golden Mediocrity. She looketh like the Idol of Cheapside. I am that even course that must be kept To shun two dangerous gulfs; the middle tract 'Twixt Scylla and Charybdis; the small Isthmus That suffers not the Aegean tide to meet The violent rage of the Ionian wave. I am a bridge o'rean Impetuous sea; Free, and safe passage to the wary step! But he whose wantonness, or folly dares Decline to either side falls desperate Into a cetaine ruin.— Dwell with me, Whose mansion is not placed so near the Sun, As to complain of's neighbourhood, and be scorched With his director beams: nor so remote From his bright rays as to be situate Under the Icy Pole of the cold Bear; But in a temperate zone: 'tis I am she, I am the golden Mediocrity: The labour of whose womb are all the virtues, And every passion too commendable: Sisters so like themselves, as if they were All but one birth; no difference to distinguish them But a respect they bear to several objects: Else had their names been one as are their features. So when eleven fair Virgins of a blood All Sisters, and alike grown ripe of years, Match into several houses, from each family, Each takes a name distinct, and all are differented! They are not of complexion red or pale, But a sweet mixture of the flesh and blood, As if both roses were confounded there. Their stature neither Dwarf nor ●…yantish, But in a comely well disposed proportion! And all so like their mother, that indeed They are all mine, and I am each of them. When in the midst of dangers I stand up A wary confidence betwixt fear and daring, Not so ungodly bold as not to be Fearful of heaven's just anger when she speaks In prodigies, and tremble at the hazard Of my Religion, shake to see my Country Threatened with fire and sword, be a stark coward To any thing may blast my reputation: But I can scorn the worst of poverty, Sickness, Captivity, Banishment, Grim death, If she dare meet me in the bed of honour; Where, with my Country's cause upon my sword Not edged with hope or anger, nor made bold With civil blood, or customary danger; Nor the fool's whetstone, Inexperience; I can throw valour as a lightning from me, And then I am the Amazon fortitude!
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)
Then I'le stay; I hate a Vertue That will be made a Cardinall: Cardinall vertues, Next to Pope-vertues, are most impious; And Bishop-vertues are unwarrantable: I will allow of none but Deacon-vertues, Or Elder-vertues. These are Morall vertues. Are they Lay-vertues? Yes! Then they are lawfull, Vertues in Orders are unsanctified. We doe present them royall, as they are In all their state, in a full dance. What dance? No wanton Iig I hope, no dance is lawfull But Prinkam Prankam! Will Vertues dance? I hate a Vertue in a Morrice-dance! O vile, absurd, may pole—maid-marrian vertue Dancing is lawfull. Who's this? It is the mother of the Vertues. Mother of Pearle I thinke, she is so gawdy It is the golden Mediocritie. She looketh like the Idoll of Cheap-side. I am that even course that must be kept To shunne two dangerous gulfes; the middle tract 'Twixt Scylla and Charibdis; the small Isthmus That suffers not the' Aegean tide to meet The violent rage of the Ionian wave. I am a bridge o'rean Impetuous sea; Free, and safe passage to the wary step! But he whose wantonnesse, or folly dares Decline to either side falls desperate Into a cetaine ruine.—Dwell with me, Whose mansion is not plac'd so neare the Sunne, As to complaine of's neighbourhood, and be scorch'd With his directer beames: nor so remote From his bright rayes as to be situate Vnder the Icy Pole of the cold Beare; But in a temperate zone: 'tis I am she, I am the golden Mediocritie: The labour of whose wombe are all the vertues, And every passion too commendable: Sisters so like themselves, as if they were All but one birth; no difference to distinguish them But a respect they beare to severall objects: Else had their names beene one as are their features. So when eleven faire Virgins of a blood All Sisters, and alike growne ripe of yeares, Match into severall houses, from each family, Each takes a name distinct, and all are different'd! They are not of complexion red or pale, But a sweet mixture of the flesh and blood, As if both roses were confounded there. Their stature neither Dwarfe nor yantish, But in a comely well dispos'd proportion! And all so like their mother, that indeed They are all mine, and I am each of them. When in the midst of dangers I stand up A wary confidence betwixt feare and daring, Not so ungodly bold as not to be Fearefull of heav'ns just anger when she speaks In prodigies, and tremble at the hazard Of my Religion, shake to see my Country Threatned with fire and sword, be a stark coward To any thing may blast my reputation: But I can scorne the worst of poverty, Sicknesse, Captivity, Banishment, Grim death, If she dare meete me in the bed of honour; Where, with my Countries cause upon my sword Not edg'd with hope or anger, nor made bold With civill blood, or customary danger; Nor the fooles whetstone, Inexperience; I can throw valour as a lightning from me, And then I am the Amazon fortitude!