Cynthia's Revels, or The Fountain of Self-Love · chunk 11 of 66
Jonson, Ben · published 1616 · first performed or written 1600 [1600-1601] (Annals) satire · Children of the Chapel (second) unassigned nearest T62 The courtier as a type: fashion, affecta · 536 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T62: courtier, shrug, face, court, italian, monsieur, scholar, fashion, french, courtiers.
Since I trod on this side the Alpes, I was not so frozen in my invention. Let me see: to accost him with some choice remnant of spanish, or italian? that would indifferently express my languages now: marry then, if he should fall out to be ignorant, it were both hard, and harsh. How else? step into some ragioni del stato, and so make my induction? that were above him too; and out of his element, I fear. Feign to have seen him in Venice, or Padua? or some face near his in similitude? 'tis too pointed, and open. No, it must be a more quaint, and collateral device. As— stay: to frame some encomiastic speech upon this our Metropolis, or the wise magistrates thereof, in which politic number, 'tis odds, but his father filled up a room? descend into a particular admiration of their justice; for the due measuring of coals, burning of cans, and such like? As also their religion, in pulling down a superstitious cross, and advancing a VENUS, or PRIAPUS, in place of it? ha? 'twill do well. Or to talk of some hospital, whose walls record his father a Benefactor? or of so many buckets bestowed on his parish church, in his life time, with his name at length (for want of arms) tricked upon them? Any of these? Or to praise the cleanness of the street, wherein he dwelled? or the provident painting of his posts against he should have been Praetor? or (leaving his parent) come to some special ornament about himself, as his rapier, or some other of his accoutrements? I have it: Thanks, gracious MINERVA. Would I had but once spoke to him, and then— He comes to me. 'Tis a most curious, and neatly-wrought band, this same, as I have scene, sir. O god, sir. You forgive the humour of mine eye, in observing it. His eye waters after it, it seems. O lord, sir, there needs no such apology, I assure you. I am anticipated: they'll make a solemn deed of gift of themselves, you shall see. Your ribbon too does most gracefully, in troth. 'tis the most gentile, and received wear now, sir. Believe me, sir (I speak it not to humour you) I have not seen a young gentleman (generally) put on his clothes, with more judgement. O, 'tis your pleasure to say so, sir. No, as I am virtuous (being altogether un-traveled) it strikes me into wonder. I do purpose to travail, sir, at spring. I think I shall affect you, sir. This last speech of yours hath begun to make you dear to me. O god, sir. I would there were anything in me, sir, that might appear worthy the least worthiness of your worth, sir. I protest, sir, I should endeavour to show it, sir, with more than common regard, sir. O, here's rare motley, sir. Both your desert, and your endeavours are plentiful, suspect them not: but your sweet disposition to travail (I assure you) hath made you another myself in mine eye, and struck me enamoured on your beauties. I would I were the fairest lady of France for your sake, sir, and yet I would travail too.
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)
Since I trode on this side the Alpes, I was not so frozen in my inuention. Let mee see: to accost him with some choice remnant of spanish, or italian? that would indifferently expresse my languages now: marythen, if he should fall out to be ignorant, it were both hard, and harsh. How else? step into some ragioni del stato, and so make my induction? that were aboue him too; and out of his element, I feare. Faine to haue seene him in Venice, or Padua? or some face neere his in similitude? t'is too pointed, and open. No, it must be a more queint, and collaterall deuice. As— stay: to frame some encomiastick speech vpon this our Metropolis, or the wise magistrates thereof, in which politique number, 'tis ods, but his father fill'd vp a roome? descend into a particular admiration of their iustice; for the due measuring of coales, burning of cannes, and such like? As also their religion, in pulling downe a superstitious crosse, and aduancing a VENVS, or PRIAPVS, in place of it? ha? 'twill doe well. Or to talke of some hospitall, whose walls record his father a Benefactor? or of so many buckets bestow'd on his parish church, in his life time, with his name at length (for want of armes) trickt vpon them? Any of these? Or to praise the cleannesse of the street, wherein hee dwelt? or the prouident painting of his posts against hee should haue beene Praetor? or (leauing his parent) come to some speciall ornament about himselfe, as his rapier, or some other of his accoutrements? I haue it: Thanks, gracious MINERVA. Would I had but once spoke to him, and then—Hee comes to me. 'Tis a most curious, and neatly-wrought band, this same, as I haue scene, sir. O god, sir. You forgiue the humour of mine eye, in obseruing it. His eye waters after it, it seemes. O lord, sir, there needes no such apologie, I assure you. I am anticipated: they'll make a solemne deed of gift of themselues, you shall see. Your ribband too do's most gracefully, in troth. Tis the most gentile, and receiu'd weare now, sir. Beleeue mee, sir (I speake it not to humour you) I haue not seene a young gentleman (generally) put on his clothes, with more iudgement. O, tis your pleasure to say so, sir. No, as I am vertuous (being altogether vn-trauel'd) it strikes me into wonder. I doe purpose to trauaile, sir, at spring. I thinke I shall affect you, sir. This last speech of yours hath begun to make you deare to me. O god, sir. I would there were anything in mee, sir, that might appeare worthy the least worthinesse of your worth, sir. I protest, sir, I should endeuour to shew it, sir, with more then common regard, sir. O, here's rare motley, sir. Both your desert, and your endeuours are plentifull, suspect them not: but your sweet disposition to trauaile (I assure you) hath made you another my-selfe in mine eye, and strooke mee inamor'd on your beauties. I would I were the fairest lady of France for your sake, sir, and yet I would trauaile too.