Brome, Richard · published 1640 · first performed or written 1638 [1636-1638] (Annals) not in BritDrama · Salisbury Court T9 Theatre talk: prologues, poets and playe typicality 0.75 · 518 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T9: play, stage, poet, prologue, author, wit, plays, muse, scene, players.
But it is late, and these long intermissions By banqueting and Courtship twixt the Acts Will keep back the Catastrophe of your play, Until the morning light. All shall be short. And then in midst of Scenes You interrupt your Actors; and tie them To lengthen time in silence, while you hold Discourse, by th'by. Pox o'thy jealousy. Because I give thy wife a look, or word Sometimes! What if I kiss (thus) I'll not eat her. So, so, his banquet works with him. And for my Actors, they shall speak, or not speak As much, or more, or less, and when I please, It is my way of pleasure, and i'll use it. So sit: They enter. Your case is clear, I understand it fully, And need no more instructions, this shall serve, To firk your Adversary from Court to Court, If he stand out upon rebellious Legs, But till Octabis Michaelis next. I'll bring him on submissive knees. What's he? A Lawyer, and his Client there, a Poet. Goes Law so torn, and Poetry so brave? Will you but give the Actors leave to speak, They may have done the sooner? Let me see, This is your bill of Parcels. Yes, of all My several wares, according to the rates Delivered unto my debtor, Wares does he say? Yes, Poetry is good ware In the Antipodes, though there be some ill payers, As well as here; but Law there rights the Poets. Delivered too, and for the use of the right worshipful Mr. Alderman humble-bee, as followeth— Imprimis— Umh, I cannot read your hand; your Character Is bad, and your Orthography much worse. Read it yourself pray. Do Aldermen Love Poetry in Antipodea London. Better than ours do Custards; but the worst paymasters living there; worse than our gallants, Partly for want of money, partly wit. Can Aldermen want wit and money too? That's wonderful. Imprimis sir here is For three religious Madrigals to be sung By th' holy Vestals in Bridewell, for the Conversion of our City wives and daughters, Ten groats a piece, it was his own agreement. 'tis very reasonable. Item, twelve Hymns, For the twelve Sessions, during his Shrievalty, Sung by the Choir of Newgate, in the praise Of City Clemency (for in that year No guiltless person suffered by their judgement) Ten groats a piece also. So, now it rises. Why speaks your Poet so demurely? Oh— 'tis a precise tone he has got among The sober sisterhood. Oh I remember, The Doctor said Poets were all Puritans In the Antipodes: But where's the Doctor? And where's your son my joyless? Do not mind him. Item, A Distich graven in his thumb-ring, Of all the wise speeches and sayings of all His Alder Predecessors, and his brethren In two Kings reigns. There was a curious Piece. Two pieces he promised to me for it. Item, inscriptions in his Hall and Parlour, His Gallery, and garden, round the walls, Of his own public acts, between the time He was a Common Council man and sheriff, One thousand lines put into wholesome verse.
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)
But it is late, and these long intermissions By banqueting and Courtship twixt the Acts Will keep backe the Catastrophe of your play, Vntill the morning light. All shall be short. And then in midst of Scenes You interrupt your Actors; and tye them To lengthen time in silence, while you hold Discourse, by th'by. Poxe o'thy jealousie. Because I give thy wife a looke, or word Sometimes! What if I kisse (thus) Ile not eate her. Soe, so, his banquet workes with him. And for my Actors, they shall speake, or not speake As much, or more, or lesse, and when I please, It is my way of pleasure, and ile use it. So sit: They enter. Your case is cleare, I understand it fully, And need no more instructions, this shall serve, To firke your Adversary from Court to Court, If he stand out upon rebellious Legges, But till Octabis Michaelis next. Ile bring him on submissive knees. What's he? A Lawyer, and his Clyent there, a Poet. Goes Law so torne, and Poetry so brave? Will you but give the Actors leave to speake, They may have done the sooner? Let me see, This is your bill of Parcells. Yes, of all My severall wares, according to the rates Delivered unto my debitor, Wares does he say? Yes, Poetry is good ware In the Antipodes, though there be some ill payers, As well as here; but Law there rights the Poets. Delivered too, and for the use of the right worshipfull Mr. Alderman Humblebee, as followeth—Imprimis — Umh, I cannot read your hand; your Character Is bad, and your Orthography much worse. Read it your selfe pray. Doe Aldermen Love Poetry in Antipodea London. Better than ours doe Custards; but the worst Pay-masters living there; worse than our gallants, Partly for want of money, partly wit. Can Aldermen want wit and money too? That's wonderfull. Imprimis sir here is For three religious Madrigalls to be sung By th' holy Vestalls in Bridewell, for the Conversion of our City wives and daughters, Ten groats a peece, it was his owne agreement. Tis very reasonable. Item, twelve Hymnes, For the twelve Sessions, during his Shrievalty, Sung by the Quire of New-gate, in the praise Of City Clemency (for in that yeare No guiltlesse person suffer'd by their judgement) Ten groats a peece also. So, now it rises. Why speaks your Poet so demurely? Oh— Tis a precise tone he has got among The sober sister-hood. Oh I remember, The Doctor said Poets were all Puritans In the Antipodes: But where's the Doctor? And where's your sonne my Ioylesse? Doe not minde him. Item, A Disticke graven in his thumb-ring, Of all the wise speeches and sayings of all His Alder Predecessors, and his brethren In two Kings reignes. There was a curious Peece. Two peeces he promised to me for it. Item, inscriptions in his Hall and Parlour, His Gallery, and garden, round the walls, Of his owne publicke acts, betweene the time He was a Common Councell man and shriefe, One thousand lines put into wholsome verse.