Peele, George · published 1584 · first performed or written 1581 [c.1581-1584] (Annals) pastoral · Children of the Chapel (first) (Oxford's Boys) · before the Court unassigned nearest T24 Apollo, Phoebus and the Muses · 473 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T24: apollo, phoebus, midas, muses, ears, play, hedone, gods, siren, time.
Ye Vulcan, will ye so in deed may turn and tell him, trull, He hath a mistress of his own to take his belly full. Why sir, if Phoebe's dainty nymphs please lusty Vulcan's tooth, Why may not Vulcan tread awry, as well as Venus doth? Ye shall not taint your troth for me: you wot it very well, All that be Diane's maids are vowed to halter apples in hell. i'faith i'faith, my gentle mops, but I do know a cast, Lead apes who list, that we would help t'unhalter them as fast. Fie fie, your skill is wondrous great, had thought the god of wine, Had tended but his tubs and grapes, and not been half so fine. Gramercy for that quirk, my girl. Bac. That's one of dainties frumps. I pray sir take't with all amiss, our cunning comes by lumps. Sh'ath capped his answer in the Q. how says, a, has she so? aswell as she that kept your head to keep you warm below. Yea then you will be cursed I see. Bac. best let her even alone. Yea gentle gods, and find some other string to harp upon. Some other string, agreed i'faith, some other pretty thing, 'twere shame fair maids should idle be, how say you, will ye sing. Some rounds or merry rondelays, we sing no other songs, Your melancholic notes not to our country mirth belongs. Here comes a crew will help us trim. Yea now our task is done. Then merry Mercurie more than time, this round were well begone. A harlotry I warrant her. a peevish elvish shroe. Have seen as far to come as near, for all her ranging so. But, Bacchus, time well spent I wot, our sacred father Ioue, With Phoebus and the god of war are met in Diane's grove. Then we are here before them yet, but stay the earth doth swell, God Neptune to, (this hap is good) doth meet the prince of hell. What jars are these, that call the gods of heaven and hell below. I is a worke of wit and toyle to rule a sustie shroe. Bring forth the man of Troie that he may hear, Whereof he is to be arraigned here. Lo where 'a comes prepared to plead his case, under conduct of lovely Venus' grace. I have not seen a more alluring boy. So beauty height the wrack of Priam's Troy. lo sacred Ioue, at Juno's proud complaint, As erst I gave my pledge to Mercurie, I bring the man whom he did late attaint, To answer his indictment orderly: And crave this grace of this immortal senate, That ye allow the man his advocate. That may not be, the laws of heaven deny, A man to plead or answer by attorney. Pallas, thy doom is all too peremptory.
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)
Yee Vulcane, will yee so in deede may turne and tell him, trull, He hath a mystresse of his owne to take his belly full. Why sir, if Phoebes dainty nymphes please lustie Vulcans tooth, Why may not Vulcan treade awry, aswell as Venus dooth? Ye shall not taynt your trothe for me: you wot it verie well, All that be Dians maides are vowed to halter apples in hell. Ifaith Ifaith, my gentle mops, but I do know a cast, Leade apes who list, that we would helpe t'unhaltar them as fast. Fy fy, your skill is wondrous great, had thought the god of wine, Had tended but his tubbes and grapes, and not ben haulse so fine. Gramercie for that quirke, my girle. Bac. Thats one of dainis frūpes. I pray sir take't with all amisse, our cunning comes by lumpes. Sh'ath capt his aunswere in the Q. how sayes, a, has shee so? Aswel as shee that kapt your head to keepe you warme below. Yea then you will be curst I see. Bac. best let her euen alone. Yea gentle gods, and finde some other strnge to harpe vpon. Some other string, agreed Ifayh, some other pretie thing, Twere shame fayre maydes should idle be, how say you, wil ye sing. Some roundes or merry roundy laies, we sing no other songes, Your melancholick noates not to our countrie myrth belonges. Here comes a crue will helpe vs trimme. Yea now our taske is done. Then merry Mercurie more then time, this rounde were well begone. A harletrie I warrant her. a psh eluish shroe. Haue seene as farre to come as neare, for all her raunging so. But, Bacchus, time well spent I wot, our sacred father Ioue, With Phoebus and the god of ware are met in Dians groue. Then we are here before them yet, but stay the earth doth swell, God Neptune to, (this hap is good) doth meete the prince of hell. What iarres are these, that call the gods of heauen and hell beloe. I is a worke of wit and toyle to rule a sustie shroe. Bring forth the man of Troie that he may heare, Whereof he is to be araigned here. Lo where a comes prepared to pleade his case, vnder conduct of louely Venus grace. I haue not seene a more alluring boy. So beautie hight the wracke of Priams Troy. Lo sacred Ioue, at Iunoes proude complaynte, As est I gaue my pledge to Mercurie, I bring the man whom he did late attaint, To aunswere his inditement orderlie: And craue this grace of this immortall senate, That yee allowe the man his aduocate. That may not be, the lawes of heauen denie, A man to pleade or answere by atturney. Pallas, thy doome is all too peremptorie.