Jack Drum's Entertainment (Katherine and Pasquil) · chunk 29 of 32
Marston, John · published 1601 · first performed or written 1600 (Annals) comedy · Children of Paul's (second) unassigned nearest T9 Theatre talk: prologues, poets and playe · 513 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T9: play, stage, poet, prologue, author, wit, plays, muse, scene, players.
i'faith I like the Audience that frequenteth there With much applause: A man shall not be choked With the stench of Garlic, nor be pasted To the barmy jacket of a Beer-brewer. 'tis a good gentle Audience, and I hope the Boys Will come one day into the Court of requests. I and they had good Plays, but they produce Such musty fopperies of antiquity, And do not suit the humorous age's backs With clothes in fashion. Well Brabant well, you will be censuring still, There lies a jest in steep will whip you fort't. Gallants I have no judgement in these things, But will it please you sit? Camelia Call these same Gentlemen unto thee wench: O there with thee my Katherine was wont To sit with graceful presence, well let't pass: Fetch me a Cup of Sack. Come Gallants sit, M. Brabant, M. Planet, I pray you sit. Young M. Brabant, and Gods precious M. Iohn, Sit all, and consecrate this night to mirth. Here is old Ned's place: Come, sound Music there, What Gallants have you ne'er a Page can entertain This pleasing time with some French brawl or Song? What shall we have a Galliard? troth 'tis well. Good Boy i'faith, I would thou hadst more room. Once more the gracious heavens have renewed My wasted hopes, once more a blessed chance Hath fetched again my spirit from the sound And languishing despair of happiness. A skilful Beldame with the juice of herbs Hath cured my face, and killed the venom's power, And now if Pasquil live and love me still, Heaven is bounteous to poor Katherine. Yond sups my Father, but my Ned's not there I fear, and yet I know not what I fear. Gallants I drink this to Ned Pasquil's health. i'faith I'll pledge him, would he had his wits. And I my daughter. Fill me one Cup more: No grief so potent, but neat sparkling wine Can conquer him: Oh this is juice divine. Would he had his wits. Oh what a numbing fear Strikes a cold palsy through my trembling blood. Virtue shall burst ope the Iron gates of Hell, I'll not be cooped up, room for Phaeton. Lame policy how canst thou go upright? O Lust, stain not sweet Love. Fie be not lost Upon the surge of vulgar humours. You Idiot Rivet my Armour, and Caparison, A mighty Centaur, for I'll run at Tilt, And tumble down y on Giant in the dust. Sit gentle judges of great Radamanth, Let not Proserpine rule thee. Oh she's dead. Now thou art right Aeacus, I appeal to thee, Have pity on a wretch's misery. I am quite sunk with grief, what shall we do To get recovery of his wits again? Let Music sound, for I have often heard It hath such sweet agreement with our souls, That it corrects vain humours, and recalls His straggling fancies to fair union. Why the soul of man is nought but symphonies, A sound of disagreeing parts, yet fair unite By heavens hand, divine by reason's light.
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)
I faith I like the Audience that frequenteth there With much applause: A man shall not be choakte With the stench of Garlicke, nor be pasted To the barmy Iacket of a Beer▪brewer. Tis a good gentle Audience, and I hope the Boyes Will come one day into the Court of requests. I and they had good Playes, but they produce Such mustie fopperies of antiquitie, And do not sute the humorous ages backs With cloathes in fashion. Well Brabant well, you will be censuring still, There lyes a Iest in steep will whip you fort't. Gallants I haue no iudgement in these things, But will it please you sit? Camelia Call these same Gentlemen vnto thee wench: O there with thee my Katherine was wont To sit with gracefull presence, well let't passe: Fetch me a Cup of Sacke. Come Gallants sit, M. Brabant, M. Planet, I pray you sit. Young M. Brabant, and Gods pretious M. Iohn, Sit all, and consecrate this night to mirth. Heere is old Neds place: Come, sound Musicke there, What Gallants haue you ne're a Page can entertaine This pleasing time with some French brawle or Song? What shall we haue a Galliard? troth tis well. Good Boy I faith, I would thou hadst more roome. Once more the gratious heauens haue renewd My wasted hopes, once more a blessed chaunce Hath fetcht againe my spirit from the sownd And languishing dispaire of happinesse. A skilfull Beldame with the Iuice of hearbes Hath curde my face, and kild the venoms power, And now if Pasquil liue and loue me still, Heauen is bounteous to poore Katherine. Yon suppes my Father, but my Ned's not there I feare, and yet I know not what I feare. Gallants I drinke this to Ned Pasquils health. I faith Ile pledge him, would he had his wits. And I my daughter. Fill me one Cup more: No griefe so potent, but neat sparkling wine Can conquere him: Oh this is Iuice diuine. Would he had his wits. Oh what a numming feare Strikes a cold palsey through my trembling blood. Vertue shall burst ope the Iron gates of Hell, Ile not be coop'd vp, roome for Phaeton▪ Lame pollicy how canst thou goe vpright? O Lust, staine not sweet Loue. Fie be not lost Vpon the surge of vulgar humours. You Idiot Riuet my Armor, and Caparison, A mightie Centaure, for Ile run at Tilt, And tumble downe y on Giantin the dust. Sit gentle Iudges of great Radamant, Let not Proserpine rule thee. Oh shee's dead▪ Now thou art right Eacus, I appeale to thee, Haue pittie on a wretches miserie. I am quite sunck with griefe, what shall we do To get recouery of his wittes againe? Let Musicke sound, for I haue often heard It hath such sweet agreement with our soules, That it corrects vaine humours, and recalls His stragling fancies to faire vnion. Why the soule of man is nought but simphonies, A sound of disagreeing parts, yet faire vnite By heauens hand, diuine by reasons light.