The Bloody Brother (Rollo, Duke of Normandy) · chunk 27 of 39
Fletcher, John / Field, Nathan / Massinger, Philip · published 1639 · first performed or written 1617 [revised 1627-1630] (Annals) tragedy · King's Men unassigned nearest T35 Fools, wit and railing · 481 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T35: fool, wit, aristippus, achilles, wise, fools, patroclus, thersites, master, men.
My Lord, expect a while, your happiness Is nearer than you think it, yet her griefs Are green and fresh; your vigilant Latorche Hath not been idle: I have leave already To visit her, and send to her. My life. And if I find not out as speedy ways And proper instruments to work and bring her To your fruition; that she be not watched Tame to your Highness' wish, say you have no servant Is capable of such a trust about you, Or worthy to be secretary of your pleasure. Oh my Latorche, what shall I render thee For all thy travails, care and love? Sir, one suit, which I will ever importune, till you grant me. About your Mathematicians? Yes to have The Scheme of your nativity judged by them, I have't already erected; Oh my Lord, You do not know the labour of my fears, My doubts for you are such as cannot hope Any security, but from the Stars; Who, being rightly asked, can tell man more Than all power else, there being no power beyond them. All thy petitions still are care of us, Ask for thyself. What more can concern me, than this? Well, rise true honest man, and go then, we'll study ourselves a means how to reward thee. Your grace is now inspired; now, now your Highness Begins to live, from this hour count your joys: But, Sir, I must have warrants, with blanks figured, To put in names, such as I like. You shall. They dare not else offer, Sir, at your figures Oh I shall bring you wonders; there's a Friar Rusee, an admirable man, another A gentleman, and then Lafiske, The mirror of his time; 'twas he that set it. But there's one Norbret, (him I never saw) Has made a mirror, a mere Looking-glass, In show you`ld think't no other; the form oval, As I am given to understand by letter, Which renders you such shapes, and those so differing, And some that will be questioned and give answers; Then has he set it in a frame, that wrought Unto the revolutions of the Stars, And so compact by due proportions Unto their harmony, doth move alone A true automaton; thus Dedalus Statues, Or Vulcan's Tools— Dost thou believe this? Sir? why, what should stay my faith, or turn my sense? He has been about it above twenty years, Three sevens, the powerful, and the perfect numbers; And Art and Time, Sir, can produce such things. What do I read there of Hiarbas banquet? The great Gymnosophist, that had his Butlers And carvers of pure gold waiting at table? The images of Mercury, too, that spoke? The wooden door that flew? a snake of brass That hist? and birds of silver that did sing? All those new done by the Mathematics, Without which there`s no science, nor no truth.
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)
My Lord, expect a while, your happinesse Is neerer than you think it, yet her griefes Are greene and fresh; your vigilant Latorche Hath not been idle: I have leave already To visite her, and send to her My life. And if I find not out as speedie wayes And proper instruments to work and bring her To your fruition; that she be not watch'd Tame to your Highnesse wish, say you have no servant Is capable of such a trust about you, Or worthy to be secretary of your pleasure. Oh my Latorche, what shall I render thee For all thy travailes, care and love? Sir, one suit, which I will ever importune, till you grant me About your Mathematitians? Yes to have The Scheme of your nativity judg'd by them, I hav't already erected; Oh my Lord, You doe not know the labour of my feares, My doubts for you are such as cannot hope Any security, but from the Starres; Who, being rightly ask'd, can tell man more Than all power else, there being no power beyond them All thy petitions still are care of us, Aske for thy selfe. What more can concerne me, than this? Well, rise true honest man, and goe then, Wee'le study our selves a meanes how to reward thee. Your grace is now inspir'd; now, now your Highnesse Begins to live, from this houre count your joyes: But, Sir, I must have warrants, with blanks figurd, To put in names, such as I like. You shall. They dare not else offer, Sir, at your figure Oh I shall bring you wonders; ther's a Frier Rusee, an admirable man, another A gentleman, and then Lafiske, The mirrour of his time; 'twas he that sett it But there's one Norbret, (him I never saw) Has made a mirrour, a meere Looking-glasse, In shew you`ld think't no other; the forme ovall, As I am given to understand by letter, Which renders you such shapes, and those so differing, And some that will be question'd and give answers; Then has he sett it in a frame, that wrought Unto the revolutions of the Starres, And so compact by due proportions Unto their harmony, doth move alone A true automaton; thus Dedalus Statues, Or Vulcans Tooles — Dost thou beleeve this? Sir? why, what should stay my faith, or turn my sense? He has been about it above twentie yeares, Three sevens, the powerfull, and the perfect numbers; And Art and Time, Sir, can produce such things. What doe I reade there of Hiarbas banquet? The great Gymnosophist, that had his Butlers And carvers of pure gold waiting at table? The images of Mercury, too, that spoke? The wooden dore that flew? a snake of brasse That hist? and birds of silver that did sing? All those new done by the Mathematicks, Without which there`s no science, nor no truth.