Cynthia's Revels, or The Fountain of Self-Love · chunk 27 of 66
Jonson, Ben · published 1616 · first performed or written 1600 [1600-1601] (Annals) satire · Children of the Chapel (second) unassigned nearest T21 Cupid, Venus and the nymphs · 524 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T21: cupid, venus, love, ceres, diana, fair, nymphs, goddess, bow, damon.
Patience, gentle CRITES. This knot of spiders will be soon dissolved, And all their webs swept out of Cynthia's court, When once her glorious deity appears, And but presents itself in her full light: Till when, go in, and spend your hours with us Your honoured friends, TIME, and PHRONESIS, In contemplation of our goddess name. Think on some sweet, and choice invention, now, Worthy her serious, and illustrious eyes, That from the merit of it we may take Desired occasion to prefer your worth, And make your service known to CYNTHIA. It is the pride of ARETE to grace Her studious lovers; and (in scorn of time, Envy, and ignorance) to lift their state Above a vulgar height. True happiness Consists not in the multitude of friends, But in the worth, and choice. Nor would I have Virtue a popular regard pursue: Let them be good that love me, though but few. I kiss thy hands, divinest ARETE, And vow myself to thee, and CYNTHIA. A Little more forward: So, sir. Now go in, discloak yourself, and come forth. Taylor, bestow thy absence upon us; and be not prodigal of this secret, but to a dear customer. 'Tis well intend, sir. Stay, you come on too fast; your pace is too impetuous. Imagine this to be the palace of your pleasure, or place, where your lady is pleased to be seen. First, you present yourself, thus: and spying her, you fall off, and walk some two turns; in which time, it is to be supposed, your passion hath sufficiently whited your face: then (stifling a sigh or two, and closing your lips) with a trembling boldness, and bold terror, you advance yourself forward. Prove thus much, I pray you. Yes, sir, (pray JOVE I can light on it) Here, I come in, you say, and present myself? Good. And then I spy her, and walk off? Very good. Now, sir, I stifle, and advance forward? Trembling. Yes, sir, trembling: I shall do it better when I come to it. And what must I speak now? marry, you shall say: Dear beauty, or, sweet honour (or by what other title you please to remember her) methinks you are melancholy. This is, if she be alone now, and discompanied. Well, sir, I'll enter again; her title shall be, My dear LINDABRIDES. LINDABRIDES? ay, sir, the Emperor ALICANDRO's daughter, and the Prince Meridian's sister (in the Knight of the Sun) she should have been married to him, but that the Princess CLARIDIANA— O, you betray your reading. Nay, sir, I have read history, I am a little humanitian. Interrupt me not, good sir. My dear LINDABRIDES, My dear LINDABRIDES, My dear LINDABRIDES, methinks you are melancholy. ay, and take her by the rosy-fingered hand. Must I so? O, my dear LINDABRIDES, methinks you are melancholy. Or thus, sir. All variety of divine pleasures, choice sports, sweet music, rich fare, brave attire, soft beds, and silken thoughts attend this dear beauty. Believe me, that's pretty. All variety of divine pleasures, choice sports, sweet music, rich fare, brave attires, soft beds, and silken thoughts, attend this dear beauty.
seed 43: T2 · seed 44: T3 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Patience, gentle CRITES. This knot of spiders will be soone dissolu'd, And all their webs swept out of CYNTHIAS court, When once her glorious deitie appeares, And but presents it selfe in her full light: Till when, goe in, and spend your houres with vs Your honour'd friends, TIME, and PHRONESIS, In contemplation of our goddesse name. Thinke on some sweet, and choice inuention, now, Worthie her serious, and illustrous eyes, That from the merit of it we may take Desir'd occasion to preferre your worth, And make your seruice knowne to CYNTHIA. It is the pride of ARETE to grace Her studious louers; and (in scorne of time, Enuie, and ignorance) to lift their state Aboue a vulgar height. True happinesse Consists not in the multitude of friends, But in the worth, and choice. Nor would I haue Vertue a popular regard pursue: Let them be good that loue me, though but few. I kisse thy hands, diuinest ARETE, And vow my selfe to thee, and CYNTHIA. A Little more forward: So, sir. Now goe in, dis-cloke your selfe, and come forth. Taylor, bestow thy absence vpon vs; and bee not prodigall of this secret, but to a deare customer. 'Tis well entend, sir. Stay, you come on too fast; your pase is too impetuous. Imagine this to be the palace of your pleasure, or place, where your lady is pleas'd to bee seene. First, you present your selfe, thus: and spying her, you fall off, and walke some two turnes; in which time, it is to bee suppos'd, your passion hath sufficiently whited your face: then (stifling a sigh or two, and closing your lips) with a trembling boldnesse, and bold terrour, you aduance your selfe forward. Proue thus much, I pray you. Yes, sir, (pray IOVE I can light on it) Here, I come in, you say, and present my selfe? Good. And then I spie her, and walke off? Very good. Now, sir, I stifle, and aduance forward? Trembling. Yes, sir, trembling: I shall doe it better when I come to it. And what must I speake now? Mary, you shall say: Deare beautie, or, sweet honour (or by what other title you please to remember her) me thinkes you are melancholy. This is, if shee be alone now, and discompanied. Well, sir, Ile enter againe; her title shall be, My deare LINDABRIDES. LINDABRIDES? I, sir, the Emperour ALICANDROES daughter, and the Prince MERIDIANS sister (in the Knight of the Sunne) shee should haue beene married to him, but that the Princesse CLARIDIANA— O, you betray your reading. Nay, sir, I haue read historie, I am a little humanitian. Interrupt me not, good sir. My deare LINDABRIDES, My deare LINDABRIDES, My deare LINDABRIDES, me thinkes you are melancholy. I, and take her by the rosie-finger'd hand. Must I so? O, my deare LINDABRIDES, mee thinkes you are melancholy. Or thus, sir. All varietie of diuine pleasures, choice sports, sweet musique, rich fare, braue attire, soft beds, and silken thoughts attend this deare beautie. Beleeue mee, that's pretty. All varietie of diuine pleasures, choice sports, sweet musique, rich fare, braue attires, soft beds, and silken thoughts, attend this deare beautie.