Satiromastix, or The Untrussing of the Humorous Poet · chunk 16 of 44
Dekker, Thomas · published 1602 · first performed or written 1601 (Annals) comedy · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men and Children of Paul's (second) unassigned nearest T4 Love-longing and the lover's complaint · 492 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T4: love, heart, sweet, loves, fair, phillis, eyes, beauty, amyntas, lovers.
I would always have thee sauce a fool thus. Away, and, stay: here be Epigrams upon Tucca, divulge these among the gallants; as for Crispinus, that crispin-ass and Fannius his Play-dresser; who (to make the Muses believe, their subjects ears were starved and that there was a dearth of Poesy) cut an Innocent Moore i'th' middle, to serve him in twice; & when he had done, made Paul's work of it, as for these Twins these Poet- apes: Their Mimic tricks shall serve With mirth to feast our Muse, whilst their own starve. Well Ningle I'll trudge, but where's the rendezvous? Well thought off, marry at Sir Vaughan's lodging the Welsh knight, I have composed a love-letter for the gallants worship, to his Rosamond: the second, Mistress Miniver, because she does not think so soundly of his lame English as he could wish; I ha' gulled his Knightship here to his face, yet have given charge to his winking understanding not to perceive it: nay Gods so, away dear Bubo. I am gone. The Muses birds the Bees were hived and fled, Us in our cradle, there by prophesying; That we to learned ears should sweetly sing, But to the vulgar and adulterate brain, Should loathe to prostitute our Virgin strain. No, our sharp pen shall keep the world in awe, Horace thy Poesy, wormwood wreaths shall wear, We hunt not for men's loves but for their fear. O Sir Adam Prickshaft, you are a the bow hand wide, a long, yard I assure you: and as for Suitors, truly they all go down with me, they have all one flat answer. All Widow? not all, let Sir Adam be your first man still. Widow, art stolen from Table? I Sir Adam, Are you my rival? well, fly fair you're best; The King's exceeding merry at the banquet, He makes the Bride blush with his merry words That run into her ears; ah he's a wanton, Yet I dare trust her, had he twenty tongues, And every tongue a Style of Majesty, Now Widow, let me tell thee in thine ear, I love thee Widow, by this ring; nay wear it. I'll come in no rings perdie, I'll take no gold. Master Peter Flash, I will grope about Sir Quintilian, for his terminations touching and considering you. I thank your Worship, for I have as good a stomach to your Worship as a man could wish. I hope in God a mighty, I shall fill your stomach Master Peter: What two upon one Sentlemen; Mistress Miniver, much good do't you Sir Adam. Sir Vaughan, have you dined well Sir Vaughan? As good seere as would make any hungry man (and a were in the vilest prison in the world) eat and he had any stomach: One word Sir Quintilian in hugger-mugger; here is a Sentleman of yours, Master Peter Flash, is desirous to have his blue coat pulled over his ears; and—
seed 43: T2 · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
I wod alwaies haue thee saw a foole thus. Away, and, stay: heere be Epigrams vpon Tucca, divulge these among the gallants; as for Crispinus, that Crispin-asse and Fannius his Play-dresser; who (to make the Muses beleeue, their subiects eares were staru'd and that there was a dearth of Poefie) cut an Innocent Moore i'th middle, to serue him in twice; & when he had done, made Poules-worke of it, as for these Twynnes these Poet-: Their Mimicke trickes shall serue With mirth to feast our Muse, whilst their owne starue. VVell Ningle Ile trudge, but where's the Randeuow? VVell thought off, marie at Sir Vaughans lodging the VVelsh knight, I haue compos'd a loue-letter for the gallants worship, to his Rosamond: the second, Mistris Miniuer, because she does not thinke so soundly of his ame English as he could wish; I ha gull'd his Knight-ship heere to his face, yet haue giuen charge to his wincking vnderstanding not to perceiue it: nay Gods so, away deare Bubo. I am gone. The Muses birdes the Bees were hiu'd and fled, Vs in our cradle, there by prophecying; That we to learned ares should sweetly sing, But to the vulger and adulterate braine, Should loath to prostitute our Virgin straine. No, our sharpe pen shall keep the world in awe, Horace thy Poesie, wormwood wreathes shall weare, We hunt not for mens loues but for their feare. O Sir Adam Prickshaft, you are a the bow hand wide, a long, yard I assure you: and as for Suitors, truelie they all goe downe with me, they haue all one flat answere. All Widdow? not all, let Sir Adam bee your first man still. Widdow, art stolne from Table? I Sir Adam, Are you my riuall? well, flye faire y'are best; The King's exceeding merrie at the banquet, He makes the Bride blush with his merrie words That run into her eares; ah he's a wanton, Yet I dare trust her, had he twentie tongues, And euerie tongue a Stile of Maiestie, Now Widdow, let me tell thee in thine eare, I loue thee Widdow, by this ring; nay weare it. Ile come in no rings pardie, Ile take no golde. Master Peter Flash, I will grope about Sir Quintilian, for his terminations touching and considering you. I thanke your Worship, for I haue as good a stomacke to your Worship as a man could wish. I hope in God a mightie, I shall fill your stomack Master Peter: What two vpon one Sentlemen; Mistris Miniuer, much good doo't you Sir Adam. Sir Vaughan, haue you din'd well Sir Vaughan? As good seere as would make any hungrie man (and a were in the vilest prison in the world) eate and hee had anie stomacke: One word Sir Quintilian in hugger mugger; heere is a Sentleman of yours, Master Peter Flash, is tesirous to haue his blew coate pul'd ouer his eares; and—