Cynthia's Revels, or The Fountain of Self-Love · chunk 52 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 · 505 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T62: courtier, shrug, face, court, italian, monsieur, scholar, fashion, french, courtiers.
Believe it, sir, there's ne'er a Mistress i' the world can mislike it. No, not goodwife Taylor, your Mistress; that has only the judgement to heat your pressing tool. But for a court-mistress, that studies these decorums, and knows the proportion of every cut, to a hair, knows why such a colour, is cut upon such a colour, and, when a satin is cut upon six taffetas, will look that we should dive into the depth of the cut.— Give me my scarf. Show some ribbons, sirrah. ha' you the feather? ay, sir. Ha' you the jewel? Yes, sir. What must I give for the hire on't? You'll give me six crowns, sir? six crowns? By heaven 'twere a good deed to borrow it of thee, to show: and never let thee have it again. I hope your worship will not do so, sir. By JOVE, sir, there be such tricks stirring, I can tell you, and worthily too. Extorting knaves! that live by these Court-decorums, and yet,— What's your jewel worth, I pray? A hundred crowns, sir. A hundred crowns? And six for the loan on't an hour? What's that? the hundred for the year? These impostors would not be hanged? your thief is not comparable to 'em, by HERCULES, well, put it in, and the feather. You will ha''t, and you shall; and the pox give you good on't. Give me my confects, my moscardini, and place those colours in my hat. These are bolognian ribbons, I warrant you? In truth, sir: if they be not right granado silk— A pox on you, you'll all say so. You give me not a penny, sir. Come sir, perfume my devant; May it ascend, like solemn sacrifice, into the nostrils of the Queen of Love. Your french ceremonies are the best: Monsieur, signor, your solemn Address is too long. The ladies long to have you come on. Soft, sir, our coming on is not so easily prepared. signor Fig. ay, sir. Can you help my complexion, here? O yes, sir, I have an excellent mineral Fucus, for the purpose. The gloves are right, sir, you shall bury 'em in a muckhill, a draft, seven years, and take 'em out, and wash 'em, they shall still retain their first sent, true spanish. There's ambre i'the umber. Your price, sweet Fig. Give me what you will, sir: The signor pays me two crowns a pair, you shall give me your love, sir. My love? with a pox to you, goodman sassafras. I come, sir. There's an excellent diapasm in a chain too, if you like it. Stay, what are the ingredients to your fucus? Nought, but sublimate, and crude mercury, sir, well prepared, and dulcified, with the jaw-bones of a sow, burnt, beaten, and seared. I approve it. Lay it on. I'll have your chain of pomander, sirrah; what's your price? we'll agree, Monsieur; I'll assure you, it was both decocted, and dried, where no sun came, and kept in an onyx ever since it was balled.
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)
Beleeue it, sir, there's ne're a Mistris i' the world can mislike it. No, not goodwife Taylor, your Mistris; that has onely the iudgment to heat your pressing toole. But for a court-Mistris, that studies these decorums, and knowes the proportion of euerie cut, to a haire, knowes why such a colour, is cut vpon such a colour, and, when a satten is cut vpon six taffaaes, wil looke that we should diue into the depth of the cut.— Giue me my scarffe. Shew some ribbands, sirra. Ha you the feather? I, sir. Ha' you the jewell? Yes, sir. What must I giue for the hire on't? You'le giue me six crownes, sir? Sixe crownes? By heauen 'twere a good deed to borrow it of thee, to shew: and neuer let thee haue it againe. I hope your worship will not doe so, sir. By IOVE, sir, there bee such trickes stirring, I can tell you, and worthily too. Extorting knaues! that liue by these Court-decorums, and yet, —What's your jewell worth, I pray? A hundred crownes, sir. A hundred crownes? And sixe for the loane on't an houre? What's that? the hundred for the yeere? These impostors would not bee hang'd? your thiefe is not comparable to 'hem, by HERCVLES, well▪ put it in, and the feather. You will ha't, and you shall; and the poxe giue you good on't. Giue mee my confects, my moscardini, and place those colours in my hat. These are olognian ribbands, I warrant you? In truth, sir: if they be not right granado silke— A poxe on you, you'le all say so. You giue me not a pennie, sir. Come sir, perfume my deuant; May it ascend, like solemne sacrifice, into the nostrils of the Queene of Loue. Your french ceremonies are the best: Monsieur, Signior, your solemne Addresse is too long. The ladies long to haue you come on. Soft, sir, our comming on is not so easily prepar'd. Signior Fig. I, sir. Can you helpe my complexion, heere? O yes, sir, I haue an excellent mineral Fuc , for the purpose. The gloues are right, sir, you shall burie 'hem in a mucke-hill, a draught, seuen yeeres, and take 'hem out, and wash 'hem, they shall still retaine their first sent, true spanish. There's ambre i'the vmbre. Your price, sweet Fig. Giue me what you will, sir: The Signior payes me two crownes a paire, you shall giue me your loue, sir. My loue? with a pox to you, goodman sasafras. I come, sir. There's an excellent diapasme in a chaine too, if you like it. Stay, what are the ingredients to your fucus? Nought, but sublimate, and crude mercurie, sir, well prepar'd, and dulcified, with the jaw-bones of a sow, burnt, beaten, and searced. I approue it. Lay it on. Ile haue your chaine of pomander, sirrah; what's your price? Wee'le agree, Monsieur; Ile assure you, it was both decocted, and dried, where no sun came, and kept in an onyx euer since it was ball'd.