Shakespeare, William · published 1600 · first performed or written 1596 [1594-1596] (Annals) comedy · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men unassigned nearest T9 Theatre talk: prologues, poets and playe · 518 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T9: play, stage, poet, prologue, author, wit, plays, muse, scene, players.
Have you sent to Bottoms house? Is he come home, yet? He cannot be heard of▪ Out of doubt he is transported. If he come not, than the Play is marred. It goes not forward. Doth it? It is not possible. You have not a man, in all Athens, able to discharge Pyramus, but he. No, he hath simply the best wit of any handicraft man in Athens. Yea, and the best person to, and he is a very Paramour, for a sweet voice. You must say, Paragon, A Paramour is (God bless us) a thing of nought. Masters, the Duke is coming from the Temple, and there is two or three Lords and Ladies more married. If our sport had gone forward, we had all been made men. O sweet bully Bottom. Thus hath he lost six pence a day, during his life: he could not have scaped six pence a day. And the Duke had not given him six pence a day, for playing Pyramus, I'll be hanged. He would have deserved it. Six pence a day, in Pyramus, or nothing. Where are these lads? Where are these hearts? Bottom, o most courageous day! O most happy hour! Masters, I am to discourse wonders: but ask me not what. For if I tell you, I am not true Athenian. I will tell you every thing right as it fell out. Let us hear, sweet Bottom. Not a word of me. All that I will tell you, is, that the Duke hath dined. Get your apparel together, good strings to your beards, new ribbons to your pumps, meet presently at the palace, every man look over his part. For, the short and the long is, our play is preferred. In any case let Thisbe have clean linen: and let not him, that plays the Lion, pair his nails: for they shall hang out for the lions claws. And most dear Actors, eat no Onions, nor garlic▪ for we are to utter sweet breath: and I do not doubt but to hear them say, it is a sweet Comedy. No more words▪ Away, go away. 'tis strange, my Theseus, that these lovers speak of, More strange than true. I never may believe These antic fables, nor these Fairy toys. Lovers, and mad men have such seething brains, Such shaping fantasies, that apprehend more, Then cool reason ever comprehends. The lunatic, The lover, and the Poet are of imagination all compact. One sees more devils, then vast hell can hold: That is the mad man. The lover, all as frantic, Sees Helen's beauty in a brow of Egypt. The Poet's eye, in a fine frenzy, rolling, doth glance From heaven to earth, from earth to heaven. And as Imagination bodies forth the forms of things Unknown: the Poet's pen turns them to shapes, And gives to eyrie nothing, a local habitation, And a name. Such tricks hath strong imagination, That if it would but apprehend some joy, It comprehends some bringer of that joy. Or in the night, imagining some fear, How easy is a bush supposed a Bear?
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)
Haue you sent to Bottoms house? Is he come home, yet? Hee cannot be heard of▪ Out of doubt he is transported. If hee come not, then the Play is mard. It goes not forward. Doth it? It is not possible. You haue not a man, in all Athens, able to discharge Pyramus, but he. No, hee hath simply the best wit of any handycraft man in Athens. Yea, and the best person to, and hee is a very Paramour, for a sweete voice. You must say, Paragon, A Paramour is (God blesse vs) a thing of nought. Masters, the Duke is comming from the Temple, and there is two or three Lords and Ladies more married. If our sport had gon forward, wee had all beene made men. O sweete bully Bottome. Thus hath hee lost six pence a day, during his life: hee coulde not haue scaped sixe pence a day. And the Duke had not giuen him six pence a day, for playing Pyramus, Ile be hanged. He would haue deserued it. Six pence a day, in Pyramus, or nothing. Where are these lads? Where are these harts? Bottom, ô most couragious day! O most happy houre! Masters, I am to discourse wonders: but aske me not what. For if I tell you, I am not true Athenian. I will tell you euery thing right as it fell out. Let vs heare, sweete Bottom. Not a word of mee. All that I will tell you, is, that the Duke hath dined. Get your apparrell together, good strings to your beardes, new ribands to your pumpes, meete presently at the palace, euery man looke ore his part. For, the short and the long is, our play is preferd. In any case let Thisby haue cleane linnen: and let not him, that plaies the Lyon, pare his nailes: for they shall hang out for the Lyons clawes. And most deare Actors, eate no Onions, nor garlicke▪ for we are to vtter sweete breath: and I do not doubt but to hear them say, it is a sweete Comedy. No more wordes▪ Away, go away. Tis strange, my Theseus, that these louers speake of, More straunge then true. I neuer may beleeue These antique fables, nor these Fairy toyes. Louers, and mad men haue such seething braines, Such shaping phantasies, that apprehend more, Then coole reason euer comprehends. The lunatick, The louer, and the Poet are of imagination all compact. One sees more diuels, then vast hell can holde: That is the mad man. The louer, all as frantick, Sees Helens beauty in a brow of Aegypt. The Poets eye, in a fine frenzy, rolling, doth glance From heauen to earth, from earth to heauen. And as Imagination bodies forth the formes of things Vnknowne: the Poets penne turnes them to shapes, And giues to ayery nothing, a locall habitation, And a name. Such trickes hath strong imagination, That if it would but apprehend some ioy, It comprehends some bringer of that ioy. Or in the night, imagining some feare, How easie is a bush suppos'd a Beare?