Satiromastix, or The Untrussing of the Humorous Poet · chunk 28 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) T8 Captains, gallants and cheats typicality 0.85 · 469 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T8: captain, master, money, gentleman, little, lieutenant, rogue, pray, minos, honest.
Honoured Captain. Art not famous enough yet, my mad Horastratus, for killing a Player, but thou must eat men alive? thy friends? Sirrah wild-man, thy Patrons? thou Anthropophagite, thy Mecaenasties? Captain, I'm sorry that you lay this wrong. So close unto your heart: dear Captain think I writ but of hot blood, which (now) being cold, I could be pleased (to please you) to quaff down, The poisoned Ink, in which I dipped your name. sayst thou so, my palinodical rhymester? Hence forth I'll rather breathe out Solecisms (To do which I'd as soon speak blasphemy) Than with my tongue or pen to wound your worth, Believe it noble Captain; it to me Shall be a Crown, to crown your acts with praise, Out of your hate, your love I'll strong lie raze. I know now thoust a number of these Quiddits to bind men toth' peace: 'tis thy fashion to squirt Ink in every man's face; and then to crawl into his bosom, and damn thyself to wipe't off again: yet to give out abroad, that he was glad to come to composition with thee: I know Monsieur Machiavell 'tis one a thy rules; My long-heeled Troglodite, I could make thine ears burn now, by dropping into them, all those hot oaths, to which, thyself gav'st voluntary fire, (when thou wast the man in the Moon) that thou wouldst never squib out any new saltpeter jets against honest Tucca, nor those Maligo-tasters, his Poetasters; I could Cinocephalus, but I will not, yet thou know'st thou hast broke those oaths in print, my excellent infernal. Captain. Nay I smell what breath is to come from thee, thy answer is, that there's no faith to be held with heretics & Infidels, and therefore thou swearest any thing: but come lend me thy hand, thou and I hence forth will be Alexander and Lodwick, the Gemini: sworn brothers, thou shalt be Perithous and Tucca Theseus; but I'll leave thee i'th' lurch, when thou mak'st thy voyage into hell: till then, Thine assuredly. With all my soul dear Captain. Thou'lt shoot thy quills at me, when my terrible back's turned for all this, wilt not Porcupine? and bring me & my Heliconistes into thy Dialogues to make us talk madly, wilt not Lucian? Captain, if I do— Nay and thou dost, horns of Lucifer, the parcel-poets shall Sue thy wrangling Muse, in the Court of Parnassus, and never leave hunting her, till she plead in Forma Pauperi: but I hope thouart more grace: come: friends, clap hands 'tis a bargain; amiable Bubo, thy fist must walk too: so, I love thee, now I see thouart a little Hercules, and wilt fight; I'll Stick thee now in my company like a sprig of Rosemary. Draw Sir Rees he's yonder shall I upon him?
Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men and Children of Paul's (second)
Genre (British Drama)
comedy
Play type
Boys Professional;Adult Professional;Professional
Edition / TCP / DEEP
edition 444 · TCP A20081 · DEEP 344
Edition role
Representative edition — used in the analysis
Position
nodes 876–897 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 28 of 44 in this edition
Length
469 words · 691 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T8 — Captains, gallants and cheatscross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.854 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
seed 43: T11 · seed 44: T14 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Honour'd Capten. Art ot famous enough yet, my mad Horastratus, for killing a Player, but thou must eae men aliue? th friends? Sirra wilde-man, thy Patrons? thou Anthropophagite, thy Mecaenass? Captaine, I'm sorry that you lay this wrong. So close vnto your heart: deare Captaine thinke I writ ut of hot bloud, which (now) being colde, I could be pleas'd (to please you) to quaffe downe, The poson'd Inke, in which I dipt your name. Saist thou so, my Palinodicall rimester? Hence forth Ile rather breath out Slecismes (To doe which Ide as soone speake blasphemie) Than with my tongue or pen to wound your worth, Beleeue it noble Capten; it to me Shall be a Crowne, to crowne your actes with praize, Out of your hate, your loue Ile strong lie raize. I know now thast a number of these Quiddits binde men to'th peace: tis thy fashion to Inke in euerie mans face; and then to craule into his bosome, and damne thy selfe to wpt off agen: yet to gue out abroad, that hee was glad to come to composition with thee: I know Monsieur Maciauell tis one a thy rules; My long-heel'd Troglodite, I could make thine eares burne now, by dropping into them, all those hot oathes, to which, thy selfe gau's volunrie re, (whē thou wast the man in the Moon) that thou wouldst neuer squib out any new Salt-ptr Ie against honest Tucca, nor those Maligo-tasters, his Poetasters; I could Cinophals, but I will not, yet thou knowst thou hast broke those oathes in print, my excellent infernall. Capten. Nay I smell what breath is to come from thee, thy answer is, that there's no faith to be helde wih Heritickes & Infidels, and therfore thou swear'st anie thing: but come lend me thy hand, thou and I hence forth will bee Alexander and Lodwicke, the Gmini: sworne brothers▪ thou shalt be Perithos and Tucca Theseus; bt le leaue thee th lurch, when thou mak'st thy voiage into hell: till then, hineassurely. With all my soule deare Capten. Thou'lt shoo thy quilles at mee, when my terrible backe's turn'd for all this, wilt not Porcupine? and bring me & my Heliconistes into thy Dialogues to make vs talke madlie, wut not Lucian? Capten, if I doe— Nay and thou dost, hornes of Lucifer, the Parcel-Poet shall Sue thy wrangling Muse, in the Court of Pernassus, and neuer leaue hunting her, till she pleade in Forma Puperi: but I hope th'at more grace: come: friendes, claphndes tis a bargaine; amable Bubo, thy fist ust walke oo: so, I loue thee, now I see th'art a little Hercules, and wilt fight; Ile Sicke thee now in my companie like a sprig of Rosemary. Draw Sir Rees he's yonder shall I vpon him?