Jonson, Ben · published 1602 · first performed or written 1601 (Annals) comedy · Children of the Chapel (second) · Blackfriars T12 Olympian gods: Jupiter, Juno, Venus and typicality 0.87 · 502 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T12: iupiter, saturn, iuno, venus, gods, mars, earth, titan, love, fair.
Here daughter Venus, I drink to thee. Thank you, good Father Iupiter. Why, Mother Iuno! Gods and Fiends! what, wilt thou suffer this ocular Temptation? Mars is enraged; he looks big, and begins to stut, for anger. Well played, Captain Mars. Well said, Minstrel Momus: I must put you in? must I? When will you be in good fooling of yourself, fiddler? never? O, 'tis our fashion, to be silent, when there is a better Fool in place, ever. Thank you, Rascal. Fill to our daughter Venus, Ganymede; who fills her father with affection. Will't thou be ranging, Iupiter, before my face? Why not, Iuno? why should Iupiter, stand in awe of thy Face, Iuno? Because it is thy wives Face, Iupiter. What, shall a Husband be afraid of his wives Face? will she paint it so horribly? We are a King, Cotqueane; and we will reign in our pleasures; & we will cudgel thee to death, if thou find fault with us. I will find fault with thee, King Cuckold-maker: what, shall the King of Gods turn the King of Good fellows, and have no Fellow in wickedness? This makes our Poets, that know our Profaneness, live as profane, as we: By my Godhead, Iupiter; I will join with all the other Gods, here; bind thee hand and foot; throw thee down into earth; and make a poor Poet of thee, if thou abuse me thus. A good smart-tongued Goddess; a right Iuno. Iuno, we will cudgel thee, Iuno: we told thee so yesterday, when thou wert jealous of us, for Thetis. Nay, to day she had me in Inquisition too. Well said, my fine Phrygian Fry, inform, inform. Give me some wine, King of Heralds; I may drink to my Cockatrice. No more, Ganymede; we will cudgel thee, Iwo: By Styx, we will. i's well; Gods may grow impudent in Iniquity, and they must not be told of it. Yea, we will knock our Chin against our Breast; and shake thee out of Olympus, into an Oyster-boate, for thy scolding. Your Nose is not long enough to do it, Iupiter; if all thy Strumpets, thou hast among the Stars took thy part. And there is never a Star in thy Forehead, but shall be a Horn, if thou persist to abuse me, A good jest, I faith. We tell thee, thou anger'st us, Cotqueane; and we will thunder thee in pieces, for thy Cotqueanity: we will lay this City desolate, and flat as this hand, for thy offences. These two fingers are the Walls of it; these within, the People; which People, shall be all thrown down thus, and nothing left standing in this City, but these walls. Another good jest. O, my hammers, and my Cyclops! this Boy fills not wine enough, to make us kind enough, to one another; Nor thou hast not collied thy face enough, Stinkard. I'll ply the table with Nectar, and make them friends. Heaven is like to have but a lame Skinker, then.
seed 43: T28 · seed 44: T22 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Here daughter Venus, I drinke to thee. 'Thanke you, good Father Iupiter. Why, Mother Iuno! Gods and Fiends! what, wilt thou ſuffer this ocular Temptation? Mars is enrag'd; he lookes bigge, and begins to ſtut, for anger. VVell plaide, Captaine Mars. VVell ſaid, Minſtrell Momus: I muſt put you in? muſt I? When will you be in good fooling of your ſelfe, Fidler? neuer? O, 'tis our faſhion, to be ſilent, when there is a better Foole in place, euer. 'Thanke you, Raſcall. Fill to our daughter Venus, Ganymede; who fils her father with affection. VVilt thou be raunging, Iupiter, before my face? VVhy not, Iuno? why ſhould Iupiter, ſtand in awe of thy Face, Iuno? Becauſe it is thy wiues Face, Iupiter. What, ſhall a Huſband be afraid of his wiues Face? will ſhee paint it ſo horribly? Wee are a King, Cotqueane; and wee will raigne in our pleaſures; & we will cudgell thee to death, if thou finde fault with vs. I will finde fault with thee, King Cuckold-maker: what, ſhall the King of Gods turne the King of Good fellowes, and haue no Fellow in wickedneſſe? This makes our Poëts, that knowe our Prophaneneſſe, liue as prophane, as wee: By my God-head, Iupiter; I will ioyne with all the other Gods, here; binde thee hand and foote; throwe thee downe into earth; and make a poore Poët of thee, if thou abuſe me thus. A good ſmart-tongu'd Goddeſſe; a right Iuno. Iuno, wee will cudgell thee, Iuno: wee tolde thee ſo yeſterday, when thou wert iealous of vs, for Thetis. Nay, to day ſhe had me in Inquiſition too. VVell ſaide, my fine Phrygian Fry, informe, informe. Giue mee ſome wine, King of Heralds; I may drinke to my Cocatrice. No more, Ganymede; wee will cudgell thee, Iuuo: By Styx, we will. I'ts well; Gods may growe impudent in Iniquitie, and they muſt not be tolde of it. Yea, wee will knocke our Chinne againſt our Breſt; and ſhake thee out of Olimpus, into an Oyſter-boate, for thy ſcoulding. Your Noſe is not long enough to doe it, Iupiter; if all thy Strumpets, thou haſt among the Starres tooke thy part. And there is neuer a Star in thy Forehead, but ſhal be a Horne, if thou perſiſt to abuſe mee, A good Ieaſt, I faith. We tell thee, thou angerſt vs, Cotqueane; and we will thunder thee in peeces, for thy Cotqueanity: we will lay this City deſolate, and flat as this hand, for thy offences. Theſe two fingers are the Walls of it; theſe within, the People; which People, ſhall be all throwne downe thus, and nothing left ſtanding in this Citty, but theſe walls. Another good Ieſt. O, my hammers, and my Cyclops! this Boy fils not wine enough, to make vs kind enough, to one another; Nor thou haſt not collied thy face enough, Stinkard. I'le ply the table with Nectar, and make them friends. Heauen is like to haue but a lame Skinker, then.