The Magnetic Lady, or Humors Reconciled · chunk 9 of 45
Jonson, Ben · published 1640 · first performed or written 1632 [licensed for stage, Oct 12] (Annals) comedy · King's Men unassigned nearest T6 Money, debt and credit · 499 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T6: money, master, pound, law, lawyer, chain, gentleman, gold, pay, pray.
Which you but think the crafty impositions, Of subtle Clerks, feats of fine understanding, To abuse Clots, and Clowns with, Mr. Compass, Having no ground in nature, to sustain it Or light, from those clear causes: to the inquiry And search of which, your Mathematical head, Hath so devowed itself. Tut, all men are Philosophers, to their inches. There's within, Sir Interest, as able a Philosopher, In buying, and selling! has reduced his thrift, To certain principles, and i''at method! As he will tell you instantly, by Logorythmes, The utmost profit of a stock employed: (Be the Commodity what it will) the place, Or time, but causing very, very little, Or, I may say, no paralaxe at all, In his pecuniary observations! He has brought your Neices portion with him, Madam; At lest the man that must receive it; Here They come negotiating the affair; You may perceive the Contract in their faces; And read th'indenture: If you'd sign 'hem. So. What is he, Mr. Compass? A Vi-politique! Or a sub-aiding Instrument of State! A kind of a laborious Secretary To a great man! (and likely to come on) Full of attendance! and of such a stride In business politic, or oeconomick, As, well, his Lord may stoop t'advise with him, And be prescribed by him, in affairs Of highest consequence, when he is dulled, Or wearied with the less. 'Tis Mr. Bias, Lord Whach'um's Politic. You know the man? I ha' seen him wait at Court, there, with his Maniples Of papers, and petitions. He is one That overrules though, by his authority Of living there; and cares for no man else: Neglects the sacred letter of the Law; And holds it all to be but a dead heap, Of civil institutions: the rest only Of common men, and their causes, a farragoe, Or a made dish in Court; a thing of nothing: And that's your quarrel at him? a just plea. I tell you sister Loadstone— (Hung your ears This way: and hear his praises, now Moth opens) I ha' brought you here the very man! the Jewel Of all the Court! close Mr. Bias! Sister, Apply him to your side! or you may wear him Here o' your breast! or hung him in your ear! He's a fit Pendant for a Lady's tip! A Chrysolit, a Gem: the very Agate Of State, and Polity: cut from the Quar Of Macchiavel, a true Cornelian, As Tacitus himself! and to be made The brooch to any true State-cap in Europe! You praise him brother, as you had hope to cell him. No Madam, as he had hope to cell your Niece Unto him. Beware your true jests, Mr. Compass; They will not relish. I will tell you, sister, I cannot cry his Carack up enough: He is unvaluable: All the Lords Have him in that esteem, for his relations, Corrant's, Avises, Correspondences With this Ambassador, and that Agent! He Will screw you out a Secret from a Statist—.
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)
Which you but thinke the crafty impoſitions, Of ſubtile Clerks, feats of fine underſtanding, To abuſe Clots, and Clownes with, Mr. Compaſſe, Having no ground in nature, to ſuſtaine it Or light, from thoſe cleare cauſes: to the inquiry And ſearch of which, your Mathematicall head, Hath ſo devow'd it ſelfe. Tut, all men are Philoſophers, to their inches. There's within, Sir Intereſt, as able a Philoſopher, In buying, and ſelling! has reduc'd his thrifte, To certaine principles, and i'that method! As hee will tell you inſtantly, by Logorythmes, The utmoſt profit of a ſtock imployed: (Be the Commoditie what it will) the place, Or time, but cauſing very, very little, Or, I may ſay, no paralaxe at all, In his pecuniary obſervations! He has brought your Neices portion with him, Madam; At leaſt the man that muſt receive it; Here They come negotiating the affaire; You may perceive the Contract in their faces; And read th'indenture: If you'ld ſigne 'hem. So. What is he, Mr. Compaſſe? A Vi-politique! Or a ſub-aiding Inſtrument of State! A kind of a laborious Secretary To a great man! (and likely to come on) Full of attendance! and of ſuch a ſtride In buſines politique, or oeconomick, As, well, his Lord may ſtoope t'adviſe with him, And be preſcribed by him, in affaires Of higheſt conſequence, when hee is dull'd, Or wearied with the leſſe. 'Tis Mr. Bias, Lord Whach'um's Politique. You know the man? I ha' ſeene him waite at Court, there, with his Maniples Of papers, and petitions. Hee is one That over-rules tho', by his authority Of living there; and cares for no man elſe: Neglects the ſacred letter of the Law; And holds it all to be but a dead heape, Of civill inſtitutions: the reſt only Of common men, and their cauſes, a farragoe, Or a made diſh in Court; a thing of nothing: And that's your quarrell at him? a juſt plea. I tell you ſiſter Loadſtone— (Hang your eares This way: and heare his praiſes, now Moath opens) I ha' brought you here the very man! the Jewell Of all the Court! cloſe Mr. Bias! Siſter, Apply him to your ſide! or you may weare him Here o' your breſt! or hang him in your eare! He's a fit Pendant for a Ladies tip! A Chriſolite, a Gemme: the very Agat Of State, and Politie: cut from the Quar Of Macchiavel, a true Cornelian, As Tacitus himſelfe! and to be made The brooch to any true State-cap in Europe! You praiſe him brother, as you had hope to ſell him. No Madam, as hee had hope to ſell your Neice Vnto him. 'Ware your true jeſts, Mr. Compaſſe; They will not reliſh. I will tell you, ſiſter, I cannot cry his Carract up enough: He is unvaluable: All the Lords Have him in that eſteeme, for his relations, Corrant's, Aviſes, Correſpondences With this Ambaſſadour, and that Agent! Hee Will ſcrew you out a Secret from a Statiſt—.