Cartwright, William · published 1639 · first performed or written 1636 [Aug 30] (Annals) tragicomedy · King's Men · before the Court T9 Theatre talk: prologues, poets and playe typicality 0.78 · 415 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T9: play, stage, poet, prologue, author, wit, plays, muse, scene, players.
FRom my Devotions yonder am I come, Drawn by a nearer and more glorious Sun. Hail o ye sacred Lights; who do inspire More than yond holy and eternal Fire. A foreign Court lands here upon your Shore, By showing its own worth to show yours more: Set here as Saphires are by your Queen's veins, Not to boast Colour, but confess their stains. No matter now for Art, you make all fit; Your Presence being still beyond all wit. Whiles by such Majesty our Scene is dressed, You come both th' Entertainer and the Guest. A Priest discovered as before. AFter our Rites done to the King, we do Think some Devotions to be paid to you. But I could wish some Question hung up there, That we by Genuine sounds might take your ear. Or that our Scene in Bodley's Building lay, And th' metaphysics were cast into a Play. To please your Palates I could wish there were A new Professor, Poet of the Chair. But as where th' Earth cannot ascend, we know The Sun comes down and cheers her here below: So we (the Stage being aired now, and the Court Not smelled) hope you'll descend unto our sport; And think it no great trespass, if we do Sne o're our Trifle once againe to you. 'Tis not the same as then, that glorious Press Did pass both for the matter, and the dress. For where such Majesty was seen, we may Say, the Spectators only made the Play. Expect no new thing yet; 'tis without doubt The former Face, only the Eyes put out, But you add new ones to it, being sent As for our grace, so for our supplement. We hope here's none inspired from late damned books, Will sour it into Tragedy with their looks; The little Ruff, or Careless, without fear May this securely see, securely hear. There's no man shot at here, no Person's hit, All being as free from danger, as from wit. And such should still the first adventures be Of him, who's but a Spy in Poetry. No Envy then or Faction fear we, where All like yourselves is innocent and clear. The Stage being private then, as none must sit, And, like a Trap, lay wait for sixpence wit; So none must cry up Booty, or cry down; Such Mercenary Guise fits not the Gown. No Traffic then: Applause, or Hiss elsewhere May pass as ware, 'tis only judgement here.
seed 43: T16 · seed 44: T15 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
FRom my Devotions yonder am I come, Drawne by a neerer and more glorious Sun. Hayle ô ye sacred Lights; who doe inspire More than yond holy and eternall Fire. A forreine Court lands here upon your Shore, By shewing its owne worth to shew yours more: Set here as Saphires are by your Queen's veines, Not to boast Colour, but confesse their staynes. No matter now for Art, you make all fit; Your Presence being still beyond all wit. Whiles by such Majesty our Scene is drest, You come both th' Entertainer and the Guest. A Priest discover'd as before. AFter our Rites done to the King, we doe Thinke some Devotions to be paid to you. But I could wish some Question hung up there, That we by Genuine sounds might take your eare▪ Or that our Scene in Bodley's Building lay, And th' Metaphy sickes were cast into a Play. To please your Palates I could wish there were A new Professour, Poet of the Chayre. But as where th' Earth cannot ascend, we know The Sun comes downe and cheeres her here below: So we (the Stage being ayr'd now, and the Court Not smelt) hope you'le descend unto our sport; And thinke it no great trespasse, if we doe Sne o're our Trifle once againe to you. 'Tis not the same as then, that glorious Prease Did passe both for the matter, and the dresse▪ For where such Majesty was seene, we may Say, the Spectators only made the Play. Expect no new thing yet; 'tis without doubt The former Face, only the Eyes put out, But you adde new ones to it, being sent As for our grace, so for our supplement. We hope here's none inspir'd from late damn'd bookes, Will sowre it into Tragedy with their lookes; The little Ruffe, or Carelesse, without feare May this securely see, securely heare. There's no man shot at here, no Person's hit, All being as free from danger, as from wit▪ And such should still the first adventures be Of him, who's but a Spy in Poetrie. No Envy then or Faction feare we, where All like your selves is innocent and cleare. The Stage being private then, as none must sit, And, like a Trap, lay wayte for sixpence wit; So none must cry up Booty, or cry downe; Such Mercenary Guise fits not the Gowne. No Traffique then: Applause, or Hisse elsewhere May passe as ware, 'tis only Iudgement here.