Jonson, Ben · published 1641 · first performed or written 1617 [Jan 6] (Annals) masque · before the Court unassigned nearest T44 Drinking: wine, ale and taverns · 560 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T44: drink, wine, numps, ale, butler, pot, sing, moy, drunk, win.
If the Bell have any sides, the clapper will find'em: There's twice so much music in beating the tabor, As i'the Stockfish, and somewhat less labour. Yet all this while, no proportion is boasted Twixt an egg, and an Ox, though both have been roasted, For grant the most Barbers can play o' the Cittern, Is it requisite a Lawyer should pled to a Ghitterne? You will say now, the Morris-bells were but bribes To make the he'll forget that e'er it had kibes; I say let the wine make never so good jelly, The conscience o' the bottle, is much i'the belly: For why? do but take common Council i'your way, And tell me who'll than set a bottle of hay Before the old Usurer, and to his horse A slice of salt-butter, perverting the course Of civil society? open that gap, And out skip your fleas, four and twenty at a clap, With a chain and a trundle-bed following at th'heels, And will they not cry than, the world runs a wheels: As for example, a belly, and no face, With the bill of a Shoveler, may here come in place; The haunches of a Drum, with the feet of a pot, And the tail of a Kentishman to it; why not? Yet would I take the stars to be cruel, If the Crab, and the Ropemaker ever fight duel, On any dependence, be it right, be it wrong, But mum; a thread may be drawn out too long. Why? this you will say was fantastical now, As the Cock, and the Bull, the Whale, and the Cow; But vanish away, I have change to present you, And such as I hope will more truly content you: Behold the gold-haird Hour descending here, That keeps the gate of Heaven, and turns the year, Already with her sight, how she doth cheer, And makes another face of things appear. Why look you so, and all turn dumb! to see the opener of the Newyeare come? My presence rather should invite, and aid, and urge, and call to your delight, The many pleasures that I bring are all of youth, of heat, of life, and spring, And were prepared to warm your blood, not fix it thus as if your Statutes stood. we see, we hear, we feel, we taste, we smell the change in every flower, we only wish that all could last, and be as new still as the hour. WONDER must speak, or break; what is this? grows The wealth of Nature here, or Art? it shows As if Favonius, father of the Spring, Who, in the verdant Meads doth reign sole king, Had roused him here, and shook his feathers, wet With purple swelling Nectar? and had let The sweet and fruitful dew fall on the ground To force out all the flowers that might be found? Or a Minerva with her needle had Th'enamoured earth with all her richeses clad, And made the downy Zephir as he flew Still to be followed with the Springs best hue? The gaudy Peacock boasts not in his train, So many lights and shadows, nor the rain▪ Resolving Iris, when the Sun doth court ber, Nor purple Pheasant while his Aunt doth sporther To hear him crow; and with a parched pride Wave his dis-coloured neck, and purple side?
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)
If the Bell have any ſides, the clapper will find'em: There's twice ſo much muſicke in beating the tabor, As i'the Stock-fiſh, and ſomewhat leſſe labour. Yet all this while, no proportion is boaſted T'wixt an egge, and an Oxe, though both have been roſted, For grant the moſt Barbers can play o' the Citterne, Is it requiſite a Lawyer ſhould plead to a Ghitterne? You will ſay now, the Morris-bells were but bribes To make the heele forget that ev'r it had kibes; I ſay let the wine make nev'r ſo good jelly, The conſcience o' the bottle, is much i'the belly: For why? doe but take common Councell i'your way, And tell me who'le then ſet a bottle of hay Before the old Uſurer, and to his horſe A ſlice of ſalt-butter, perverting the courſe Of civill ſocietie? open that gap, And out skip your fleas, foure and twenty at a clap, With a chaine and a trundle-bed following at th'heeles, And will they not cry then, the world runs a wheeles: As for example, a belly, and no face, With the bill of a Shoveler, may here come in place; The haunches of a Drum, with the feet of a pot, And the tayle of a Kentiſhman to it; why not? Yet would I take the ſtars to be cruell, If the Crab, and the Ropemaker ever fight duell, On any dependance, be it right, be it wrong, But mum; a thread may be drawne out too long. Why? this you will ſay was phantaſticall now, As the Cocke, and the Bull, the Whale, and the Cow; But vaniſh away, I have change to preſent you, And ſuch as I hope will more truly content you: Behold the gold-haird Houre deſcending here, That keepes the gate of Heaven, and turnes the yeare, Alreadie with her ſight, how ſhe doth cheare, And makes another face of things appeare. Why looke you ſo, and all turne dumbe! to ſee the opener of the New-yeare come? My preſence rather ſhould invite, and ayd, and urge, and call to your delight, The many pleaſures that I bring are all of youth, of heate, of life, and ſpring, And were prepard to warme your blood, not fixe it thus as if your Statutes ſtood. we ſee, we heare, we feele, we taſte, we ſmell the change in every flowre, we onely wiſh that all could laſt, and be as new ſtill as the houre. WONDER muſt ſpeake, or breake; what is this? growes The wealth of Nature here, or Art? it ſhowes As if Favonius, father of the Spring, Who, in the verdant Meads doth reigne ſole king, Had rowſd him here, and ſhooke his feathers, wet With purple ſwelling Nectar? and had let The ſweet and fruitfull dew fall on the ground To force out all the flowers that might be found? Or a Minerva with her needle had Th'enamourd earth with all her riches clad, And made the downie Zephire as he flew Still to be followd with the Springs beſt hue? The gaudie Peacocke boaſts not in his traine, So many lights and ſhadowes, nor the raine▪ Reſolving Iris, when the Sun doth court ber, Nor purple Pheſant while his Aunt doth ſporther To heare him crow; and with a pearched pride Wave his diſ-coloured necke, and purple ſide?