Jonson, Ben · published 1616 · first performed or written 1601 (Annals) comedy · Children of the Chapel (second) unassigned nearest T12 Olympian gods: Jupiter, Juno, Venus and · 541 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T12: iupiter, saturn, iuno, venus, gods, mars, earth, titan, love, fair.
WHat sight is this? Maecenas! HORACE! say! Have we our senses? Do we hear? and see? Or, are these but imaginary objects Drawn by our fantasy? Why speak you not? Let us do sacrifice? Are they the Gods? Reverence, amaze, and fury fight in me. What? do they kneel? Nay, than I see 'tis true I thought impossible: O, impious sight! Let me divert mine eyes; the very thought Everts my soul, with passion: look not, man. There is a panther, whose unnatural eyes Will strike thee dead: turn then, and die on her With her own death. HORACE. What means imperial CAESAR? What, would you have me let the strumpet live, That, for this pageant, earns so many deaths? Boy, slink boy. Pray JUPITER, we be not followed by the scent, Master. Say, sir, what are you? I play VULCAN, sir. But, what are you, sir? Your citizen, and jeweller, sir. And what are you, dame? I play VENUS, forsooth. I ask not, what you play? but, what you are? Your citizen, and jewellers wife, sir. And you, good sir? Your gentleman, parcel-poet, sir. O, that profaned name! And are these seemly company for thee, Degenerate monster? all the rest I know, And hate all knowledge, for their hateful sakes. Are you, that first the deities inspired With skill of their high natures, and their powers, The first abusers of their useful light; Profaning thus their dignities, in their forms: And making them like you, but counterfeits? O, who shall follow virtue, and embrace her, When her false bosom is found nought but air? And yet, of those embraces, centaurs spring, That war with human peace, and poison men. Who shall, with greater comforts, comprehend Her unseen being, and her excellence; When you, that teach, and should eternize her, Live, as she were no law unto your lives: Nor lived herself, but with your idle breaths? If you think gods but feigned, and virtue painted, Know, we sustain an actual residence; And, with the title of an Emperor, Retain his spirit, and imperial power: By which (in imposition too remiss, Licentious NASO, for thy violent wrong, In soothing the declined affections Of our base daughter) we exile thy feet From all approach, to our imperial court, On pain of death: and thy misgotten love Commit to patronage of iron doors; Since her soft-hearted fire cannot contain her. O, good my lord; forgive: be like the Gods. Let royal bounty (CAESAR) mediate. There is no bounty to be showed to such, As have no real goodness: Bounty is A spice of virtue: and what virtuous act Can take effect on them, that have no power Of equal habitude to apprehend it, But live in worship of that idol vice, As if there were no virtue, but in shade Of strong imagination, merely enforced? This shows, their knowledge is mere ignorance; Their far-fetched dignity of soul, a fancy; And all their square pretext of gravity A mere vain glory: hence, away with 'em. I will prefer for knowledge, none, but such As rule their lives by it, and can becalm All sea of humour, with the marble trident Of their strong spirits: Others fight below With gnats, and shadows, others nothing know.
seed 43: T49 · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
WHat sight is this? MECOENAS! HORACE! say! Haue we our senses? Doe we heare? and see? Or, are these but imaginarie obiects Drawne by our phantasie? Why speake you not? Let vs doe sacrifice? Are they the Gods? Reuerence, amaze, and furie fight in me. What? doe they kneele? Nay, then I see 'tis true I thought impossible: Ô, impious sight! Let me diuert mine eyes; the very thought Euerts my soule, with passion: looke not, man. There is a panther, whose vnnaturall eyes Will strike thee dead: turne then, and die on her With her owne death. HORACE. What meanes imperiall CAESAR? What, would you haue me let the strumpet liue, That, for this pageant, earnes so many deathes? Boy, slinke boy. 'Pray IVPITER, we be not follow'd by the sent, Master. Say, sir, what are you? I play VULCAN, sir. But, what are you▪ sir? Your citizen, and ieweller, sir. And what are you, dame? I play VENVS, forsooth. I aske not, what you play? but, what you are? Your citizen, and iewellers wife, sir. And you, good sir? Your gentleman, parcell-poet, sir. O, that prophaned name! And are these seemely companie for thee, Degenerate monster? all the rest I know, And hate all knowledge, for their hatefull sakes. Are you, that first the deities inspir'd With skill of their high natures, and their powers, The first abusers of their vse-full light; Prophaning thus their dignities, in their formes: And making them like you, but counterfeits? O, who shall follow vertue, and embrace her, When her false bosome is found nought but aire? And yet, of those embraces, centaures spring, That warre with humane peace, and poyson men. Who shall, with greater comforts, comprehend Her vnseene being, and her excellence; When you, that teach, and should eternize her, Liue, as shee were no law vnto your liues: Nor liu'd her selfe, but with your idle breaths? If you thinke gods but fain'd, and vertue painted, Know, we sustaine an actuall residence; And, with the title of an Emperour, Retaine his spirit, and imperiall power: By which (in imposition too remisse, Licentious NASO, for thy violent wrong, In soothing the declin'd affections Of our base daughter) we exile thy feete From all approch, to our imperiall court, On paine of death: and thy mis-gotten loue Commit to patronage of iron doores; Since her soft-hearted ire cannot containe her. O, good my lord; forgiue: be like the Gods. Let royall bountie (CAESAR) mediate. There is no bountie to be shewed to such, As haue no reall goodnesse: Bountie is A spice of vertue: and what vertuous act Can take effect on them, that haue no power Of equall habitude to apprehend it, But liue in worship of that idoll vice, As if there were no vertue, but in shade Of strong imagination, meerely enforc't? This shewes, their knowledge is meere ignorance; Their farre-fetcht dignitie of soule, a phansy; And all their square pretext of grauitie A meere vaine glorie: hence, away with 'hem. I will preferre for knowledge, none, but such As rule their liues by it, and can becalme All sea of humour, with the marble trident Of their strong spirits: Others fight below With gnats, and shaddowes, others nothing know.