Cynthia's Revels, or The Fountain of Self-Love · chunk 56 of 66
Jonson, Ben · published 1616 · first performed or written 1600 [1600-1601] (Annals) satire · Children of the Chapel (second) unassigned nearest T35 Fools, wit and railing · 519 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T35: fool, wit, aristippus, achilles, wise, fools, patroclus, thersites, master, men.
Why, CRITES, think you any noble spirit, Or any, worth the title of a man, Will be incensed, to see th'enchanted veils Of self-conceit, and servile flattery (Wrapped in so many folds, by time, and custom) Drawn from his wronged, and bewitched eyes? Who sees not now their shape, and nakedness, Is blinder than the son of earth, the mole: Crowned with no more humanity, nor soul. Though they may see it, yet the huge estate Fancy, and form, and sensual pride have gotten, Will make them blush for anger, not for shame; And turn shown nakedness, to impudence. Humour is now the test, we try things in; All power is just: Nought that delights is sin. And, yet the zeal of every knowing man, (Oppressed with hills of tyranny, cast on virtue By the light fantasies of fools, thus transported) Cannot but vent the Aetna of his fires, T'inflame best bosoms, with much worthier love Then of these outward, and effeminate shades: That, these vain joys, in which their wills consume Such powers of wit, and soul, as are of force To raise their beings to eternity, May be converted on works, fitting men. And, for the practice of a forced look, An antic gesture, or a fustian phrase, Study the native frame of a true heart, An inward comeliness of bounty, knowledge, And spirit, that may conform them, actually, To God's high figures, which they have in power: Which to neglect for a self-loving neatness, Is sacrilege, of an unpardoned greatness. Then let the truth of these things strengthen thee, In thy exempt, and only manlike course: Like it the more, the less it is respected; Though men fail, virtue is by gods protected. See, here comes ARETE, I'll withdraw myself. CRITES, you must provide straight for a mask, 'Tis Cynthia's pleasure. How, bright ARETE! Why, 'twere a labour more for HERCULES. Better, and sooner durst I undertake To make the different seasons of the year, The winds, or elements to sympathize, Than their unmeasurable vanity Dance truly in a measure. They agree? What though all concord's borne of contraries? So many follies will confusion prove, And like a sort of jarring instruments, All out of time: because (indeed) we see There is not that analogy, twixt discords, As between things but merely opposite. There is your error. For as HERMES wand Charms the disorders of tumultuous ghosts, And as the strife of Chaos then did cease, When better light than Natures did arrive: So, what could never in itself agree, Forgetteth the eccentric property, And at her sight, turns forthwith regular, Whose sceptre guides the flowing Ocean. And though it did not, yet the most of them (Being either courtiers, or not wholly rude) Respect of majesty, the place, and presence, Will keep them within ring; especially When they are not presented as themselves, But masked like others. For (in troth) not so T'incorporate them, could be nothing else, Then like a state ungoverned without laws; Or body made of nothing but diseases: The one, through impotency poor, and wretched, The other, for the anarchy absurd.
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)
Why, CRITES, thinke you any noble spirit, Or any, worth the title of a man, Will be incenst, to see th'inchaunted vailes Of selfe-conceit, and seruile flatterie (Wrapt in so many solds, by time, and custome) Drawne from his wronged, and bewitched eyes? Who sees not now their shape, and nakednesse, Is blinder then the sonne of earth, the mole: Crown'd with no more humanitie, nor soule. Though they may see it, yet the huge estate Phansie, and forme, and sensuall pride haue gotten, Will make them blush for anger, not for shame; And turne shewne nakednesse, to impudence. Humour is now the test, we trie things in; All power is iust: Nought that delights is sinne. And, yet the zeale of euery knowing man, (Opprest with hills of tyrannie, cast on vertue By the light phant'sies of fooles, thus transported) Cannot but vent the Aetna of his fires, T'enflame best bosomes, with much worthier loue Then of these outward, and effeminate shades: That, these vaine ioyes, in which their wills consume Such powers of wit, and soule, as are of force To raise their beings to aeternitie, May be conuerted on workes, fitting men. And, for the practice of a forced looke, An antique gesture, or a fustian phrase, Studie the natiue frame of a true heart, An inward comelinesse of bountie, knowledge, And spirit, that may conforme them, actually, To Gods high figures, which they haue in power: Which to neglect for a selfe-louing neatnesse, Is sacrilege, of an vnpardon'd greatnesse. Then let the truth of these things strengthen thee, In thy exempt, and only man-like course: Like it the more, the lesse it is respected; Though men faile, vertue is by gods protected. See, here comes ARETE, I'le with-draw my selfe. CRITES, you must prouide strait for a masque, 'Tis CYNTHIAS pleasure. How, bright ARETE! Why, 'twere a labour more for HERCVLES. Better, and sooner durst I vnder-take To make the different seasons of the yeere, The windes, or elements to sympathize, Then their vnmeasurable vanitie Dance truely in a measure. They agree? What though all concord's borne of contraries? So many follies will confusion proue, And like a sort of jarring instruments, All out of time: because (indeede) we see There is not that analogie, twixt discords, As betweene things but meerely opposite. There is your error. For as HERMES wand Charmes the disorders of tumultuous ghosts, And as the strife of Chaos then did cease, When better light then Natures did arriue: So, what could neuer in it selfe agree, Forgetteth the eccentrike propertie, And at her sight, turnes forth-with regular, Whose scepter guides the flowing Ocean. And though it did not, yet the most of them (Being either courtiers, or not wholy rude) Respect of maiestie, the place, and presence, Will keepe them within ring; especially When they are not presented as themselues, But masqu'd like others. For (in troth) not so T'incorporate them, could be nothing else, Then like a state vngouern'd without lawes; Or body made of nothing but diseases: The one, through impotency poore, and wretched, The other, for the anarchie absurd.