Jack Drum's Entertainment (Katherine and Pasquil) · chunk 2 of 32
Marston, John · published 1601 · first performed or written 1600 (Annals) comedy · Children of Paul's (second) unassigned nearest T35 Fools, wit and railing · 481 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T35: fool, wit, aristippus, achilles, wise, fools, patroclus, thersites, master, men.
Oh forbear, you are too sharp with me. Nay M. Mammon, misinterpret not, I only burn the bavin heath of youth, That cannot court the presence of fair time With aught but with, what news at Court sweet sir? I had rather that Kemp's Morris were their chat, For of foolish actions, may be they'll talk wisely, but of Wise intendments, most part talk like fools. The sum is this, bear only this good thought, The Counsel-chamber is the Phoenix nest, Who wastes itself, to give us peace and rest. Oh a Morris is come, observe our country sport, 'tis Whitsuntide, and we must frolic it. Skip it, & trip it, nimbly, nimbly, tickle it, tickle it, lustily, Strike up the Taber, for the wench's favour, tickle it, tickle it, lustily: Let us be seen, on Highgate Green, to dance for the honour of Holloway. Since we are come hither, let's spare for no leather, To dance for the honour of Holloway. Well said my boys, I must have my Lords livery, what be't, a Maypole? troth 'twere a good body for a courtier's imprezza, if it had but this life, Frustra florescit. Hold Cousin hold. Thanks Cousin, when the Lord my Father's Audit comes, we'll repay you again. Your benevolence too sir. What a lord's son become a beggar? Why not, when beggars are become Lords sons, come 'tis but a small trifle. Oh sir, many a small make a great. No sir, a few great make a many small, come my Lords, poor and need hath no law. Nor necessity no right, Drum down with them into the Cellar, rest content, rest content, one bout more and then away. Speak like a true heart, I kiss thy foot sweet knight. Sir Edward Fortune you keep too great a house, I am your friend, in hope your son in law, And from my love I speak, you keep too great a house, Go too you do, yond same dry throated husks Will suck you up, and you are ignorant What frosty fortunes may benumb your age, Poverty, the PRINCE's frown, a civil war, or. Or what? tush, tush, your life hath lost his taste, Oh madness still to sweat in hot pursuit Of cold abhorred sluttish niggardize, To exile one's fortunes from their native use, To entertain a present poverty, A willing want, for Infidel mistrust Of gracious providence: Oh Lunacy, I have two thousand pound a year, and but two Girls, I owe nothing, live in all men's love, Why should I now go make myself a slave Unto the god of fools; put worst: then here's my rest. I had rather live rich to die poor, then live poor to die rich. Oh but so great a mass of coin might mount from wholesome thrift, that after your decease your issue might swell out your name with pomp.
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)
Oh forbeare, you are too sharpe with me. Nay M▪ Mamon, misinterpret not, I onely burne the bauen heath of youth, That cannot court the presence of faire time With ought but with, what newes at Court sweete sir? I had rather that Kemps Morice were their chat, For of foolish actions, may be theyle talke wisely, but of Wise intendments, most part talke like fooles. The summe is this, beare onely this good thought, The Counsell-chamber is the Phaenix nest, Who wastes it selfe, to giue vs peace and rest. Oh a Morice is come, obserue our country sport, Tis Whitson-tyde, and we must frolick it. Skip it, & trip it, nimbly, nimbly, tickle it, tickle it, lustily, Strike vp the Taber, for the wenches fauor, tickle it, tickle it, lustily: Let vs be seene, on Hygate Greene, to daunce for the honour of Holloway. Since we are come hither, lets spare for no leather, To daunce for the honour of Holloway. Wel said my boyes, I must haue my Lords liuory, what ist, a May-pole? troth twere a good body for a courtiers imprezza, if it had but this life, Frustra florescit. Hold Couzen hold. Thankes Couzen, when the Lord my Fathers Audit comes, weel repay you again. Your beneuolence too sir. What a Lords sonne become a begger? Why not, when beggers are become Lordes sonnes, come tis but a small trifle. Oh sir, many a small make a great. No sir, a fewe great make a many small, come my Lords, poore and need hath no lawe. Nor necessitie no right, Drum downe with them into the Celler, rest content, rest cōtent, one bout more and then away. Speake like a true heart, I kisse thy foote sweet knight. Sir Edward Fortune you keep too great a house, I am your friend, in hope your sonne in lawe, And from my loue I speake, you keep too great a house, Go too you do, yon same dry throated huskes Will suck you vp, and you are ignorant What frostie fortunes may benumme your age, Pouertie, the Princes frowne, a ciuile warre, or. Or what? tush, tush, your life hath lost his taste, Oh madnes still to sweate in hotte pursuite Of cold abhorred sluttish nigardise, To exile ones fortunes from their natiue vse, To entertaine a present pouertie, A willing want, for Infidell mistrust Of gratious prouidence: Oh Lunacie, I haue two thousand pound a yeare, and but two Girles, I owe nothing, liue in all mens loue, Why should I now go make my selfe a slaue Vnto the god of fooles; put worst: then heer's my rest. I had rather liue rich to die poore, then liue poore to die rich. Oh but so great a masse of coyne might mount from wholsome thrift, that after your decease your issue might swell out your name with pompe.