News from the New World Discovered in the Moon · chunk 3 of 6
Jonson, Ben · published 1641 · first performed or written 1620 [Jan 7] (Annals) masque · before the Court unassigned nearest T9 Theatre talk: prologues, poets and playe · 457 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T9: play, stage, poet, prologue, author, wit, plays, muse, scene, players.
Those are stolen Ensigns o'the Stages, man i'th' Moon, delivered down to you by musty Antiquity, and are of as doubtful credit as the makers. Sir, nothing again Antiquity I pray you, I must not hear ill of Antiquity. Oh! you have an old Wife belike, or your venerable Jerkin there, make much of'hem: Our relation I tell you still is news. Certain, and sure news. Of a new World, And new creatures in that World. In the Orb of the Moon. Which is now found to be an Earth inhabited! With navigable Seas, and Rivers. Variety of Nations, Polities, Laws. With Havens in't, Castles, and Port-Townes! Inland Cities, Boroughes, Hamlets, Fairs, and Markets! Hundreds, and Weapontakes! Forests, Parks, Coney-ground, Meadow-pasture, what not? But differing from ours. And has your Poet brought all this? Troth, here was enough; 'tis a pretty piece of Poetry as'tis. Would you could hear on, though. Give your minds to't a little. What Inns, or Alehouses are there there? does he tell you? Truly I have not asked him that. Nor were you best, I believe. Why, in travail a man knows these things without offence; I am sure if he be a good Poet, he has discovered a good Tavern in his time. That he has, I should think the worse of his Verse else. And his Prose too i'faith. Is he a Man's Poet, or a Woman's Poet I pray you? Is there any such difference? Many, as betwixt your man's Tailor, and your woman's Tailor. How? may we beseech you? I'll show you; your Man's Poet may break out strong and deep i'th' mouth, as he said of Pindar, Monte decurrens velut amnis. But your Woman's Poet must flow, and stroke the ear, and (as one of them said of himself sweetly) Must writ a Verse as smooth, and calm as Cream, In which there is no torrent, nor scarce stream. Ha' you any more on't? Not, I could never arrive but to this Remnant. Pity! would you had had the whole piece for a pattern to all Poetry. How might we do to see your Poet? did he undertake this journey (I pray you) to the Moon o'foot? Why do you ask? Because one of our greatest Poets (I know not how good a one) went to Endenburgh o' foot, and came back; marry he has been restive they say ever since, for we have had nothing from him; he has set out nothing I am sure. Like enough, perhaps he has not all in, when he has all in, he he will set out (I warrant you) at lest those from whom he had it, it is the very same party that has been i'th' Moon now.
seed 43: T49 · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Thoſe are ſtale Enſignes o'the Stages, man i'th Moone, deliverd downe to you by muſty Antiquitie, and are of as doubtfull credit as the makers. Sir, nothing againe Antiquitie I pray you, I muſt not heare ill of Antiquitie. Oh! you have an old Wife belike, or your venerable Jerkin there, make much of'hem: Our relation I tell you ſtill is newes. Certaine, and ſure newes. Of a new World, And new creatures in that World. In the Orbe of the Moone. Which is now found to be an Earth inhabited! With navigable Seas, and Rivers. Varietie of Nations, Polities, Lawes. With Havens in't, Caſtles, and Port-Townes! In-land Cities, Boroughes, Hamlets, Faires, and Markets! Hundreds, and Weapontakes! Forreſts, Parks, Coney-ground, Meadow-paſture, what not? But differing from ours. And has your Poet brought all this? Troth, here was enough; tis a pretty piece of Poetrie as'tis. Would you could heare on, though. Gi' your mindes to't a little. What Innes, or Alehouſes are there there? does he tell you? Truly I have not askt him that. Nor were you beſt, I beleeve. Why, in travaile a man knowes theſe things without offence; I am ſure if he be a good Poet, hee has diſcover'd a good Taverne in his time. That he has, I ſhould thinke the worſe of his Verſe elſe. And his Proſe too i'faith. Is he a Mans Poet, or a Womans Poet I pray you? Is there any ſuch difference? Many, as betwixt your mans Taylor, and your womans Taylor. How? may we beſeech you? Ile ſhew you; your Mans Poet may break out ſtrong and deep i'th mouth, as he ſaid of Pindar, Monte decurrens velut amnis. But your Womans Poet muſt flow, and ſtroak the eare, and (as one of them ſayd of himſelfe ſweetly) Muſt write a Verſe as ſmooth, and calm as Creame, In which there is no torrent, nor ſcarce ſtreame. Ha' you any more on't? No, I could never arrive but to this Remnant. Pittie! would you had had the whole piece for a patterne to all Poetrie. How might we doe to ſee your Poet? did he undertake this journey (I pray you) to the Moone o'foot? Why doe you aske? Becauſe one of our greateſt Poets (I know not how good a one) went to Endenburgh o' foot, and came backe; marry he has beene reſtive they ſay ever ſince, for we have had nothing from him; he has ſet out nothing I am ſure. Like enough, perhaps he has not all in, when he has all in, he he will ſet out (I warrant you) at leaſt thoſe from whom he had it, it is the very ſame party that has beene i'th Moone now.