The Entertainment in Suffolk and Norfolk (Royal Entry of Queen Elizabeth into Norwich) · chunk 5 of 13
Churchyard, Thomas · published 1578 · first performed or written 1578 [Aug] (Annals) entertainment; royal entertainment or entry · before the Court T21 Cupid, Venus and the nymphs typicality 0.87 · 497 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T21: cupid, venus, love, ceres, diana, fair, nymphs, goddess, bow, damon.
But dost thou think thou art a God: then show some proof thereof. That can I do, but you old men, with boys will jest and scoff, And either laugh to scorn our words, or taunt us past the nick. Believe not that, but when in deed we enter near the quick, Ye wink like Colts, and fling away from wit and feeling seen, Well Cupid, prove thou art a God, and show some good defence, To this thy talk, I will give ear, and silence keep a while, Until thy words have gone so far, thy folly makes me smile. The greatest Clerks that erst have been, three thousand years ago, When they on Venus' talk or treat, takes Cupid's part ye know. Their books, their scrolls, their pamphlets large, makes mention of my name, You need no further search for proof, to try out Cupid's fame. Boast not of books, for books they be, that plainly witness bears How Cupid's art infects good minds, and cankers honest ears. And though fond men in liables show on you a flourish fine, Such gewgaws 'grees not with good rules, nor holds on gifts divine. Why Sir, you will believe, that Ioue and many more Of other Gods in Heaven are, where I have been before? In Heaven? there you trip, why boy how came you thence? You went abroad to take the air, and have been walking sense Like daws along the coast, O boy, thy proof is bare, In Heaven is but one that rules, no other Gods there are. And doth not Ioue and Mars bear sway? tush that is true. Then put in Tom and Tib, and all bears sway as much as you. I told you Sir before, your taunting tongue would bite. I come too near the sore, and please not your delight. But since you fume for nought, and can not hear the truth, I will not shame my hoary hears, to strive with wanton youth. This Cupid, Venus' son, as men suppose to be, Is neither God nor Man in form, nor monster as you see, But such a kind of shade, as can no substance shoe, Begot by brainless blind delight, and nursed with nature's foe. Fed up with faithless food, and trained in trifling toys, awaked with vice, and lulled asleep again with irksome joys. ARt thou so fond to talk with doting age, This Man did bring thy mother in a rage, And told her plain, a Goddess feigned she was, Most lewd of life, and brittle as the glass, I wantonness know well that tale is true, To this my friend now Riot what say you? I could say much, but I will hold my peace, Foul is that bird that his own nest defiles. If Riot should not speak, that Venus knows so well, (With whom since Cupid bore a name, did wanton Venus dwell) Much pity were it sure, that Riot life should bear,
nodes 235–279 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 5 of 13 in this edition
Length
497 words · 645 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T21 — Cupid, Venus and the nymphscross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.867 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
seed 43: T21 · seed 44: T24 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
But dost thou thinke thou art God then shew some proofe thereof. That can I do, but you old men, with boyes will iest and scoffe, And either laugh to scorne our words, or taunt vs past the nick. Beleeue not that, but when in deede we enter neere the quicke, Ye wincke like Coltes, and fling away from witte and feeling seene, VVel Cupid, prooue thou art a God, and shew some good defence, To this thy talke, I will giue eare, and silence keepe a whyle, Vntill thy wds haue gne so farre, thy folly makes me smyle. The greatest Clarkes that earst haue bin, three thousand yeres agoe, VVhen they on Venus talke or treate, takes Cupids part ye knowe. Teir bokes, their scrolles, their pāphlets large, makes mētiō of my name, You nede no furter search for proof, to try out Cupids fame. Boast not of booke, for bookes they be, that plainely witnes beares How Cupids arte infects good minds, and canckers honest eares. And though fond men in liables shew on you a flourish fine, Such geegawes grees not with good rules, nor holds on gifts deuine. VVhy Sir, you will beleeue, that Ioue and many more Of other Gods in Heauen are, where I haue bin before? In Heauen? there you trippe, why boy how came you thence? You went abroade to take the ayre, and haue bin walking senc Like dawes along the coast, O boy, thy proofe is bare, In Heauen is but one that rules, no other Gods there are. And doth not Ioue and Mars beare sway? that is tru. Then put in Tom and Tibbe, and all beares sway as much as yo. I told you Sir before, your taunting tong would bite. I come too neere the sore, and please not your deligh. But since you for naught, and can not heare the truth, I will not shame my hoarie heares, to striue with wanton youth. This Cupid, Venus sonne, as men suppose to bee, Is neyther God nor Man in forme, nor monster as you see, But such a kind of shade, as can no substance shoe, Begot by braynelesse blind delight, and nurst with natures foe. Fed vp with faithlesse foode, and traynd in trifling toyes, Awakt with vice, and luld asleepe agayne with yrkesome ioyes. ARt thou so fond to talke with doting age, This Man did bring thy mother in a rage, And told hir playne, a Goddesse faynd she was, Most leavvd of life, and brittle as the glasse, I VVatonnesse knowe well that tale is true, To this my friend now Rtte what say you? I could say much, but I will hold my peace, Foule is that bird that his owne neast defiles. If Riot should not speake, that Ven knowes so well, (VVith whom since Cupid bare a name, did wantō Ven dwel) Much pitie were it sure, that Riot life should beare,