Satiromastix, or The Untrussing of the Humorous Poet · chunk 31 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 T35 Fools, wit and railing · 493 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T35: fool, wit, aristippus, achilles, wise, fools, patroclus, thersites, master, men.
A head and face o'ergrown with shaggy dross, O, 'tis an Orient pearl hid all in Moss, But when the head's all naked and uncrowned, It is the world's Globe, even, smooth and round; i which , Shoots her last Arrow: what man ever lead His age out with a staff; but had a head Bare and uncovered? he whose years do rise, To their full height, yet not bald, is not wise. The Head is wisdoms house, Hair but the thatch, Hair? It's the basest stubble; in scorn of it, This Proverb sprung, he has more hair than wit: Mark you not in derision how we call, A head grown thick with hair, Bush-natural? By your leave (Master Poet) but that Bush-natural, is one a the trimmest, and most entanglingst beauty in a woman. Right, but believe this (pardon me most fair) You would have much more wit, had you less hair: I could more weary you to tell the proofs. (As they pass by) which fight on Baldness side, Then were you tasked to number on a head, The hairs: I know not how your thoughts are led, On this strong Tower shall my opinion rest, Heads thick of hair are good, but bald the best, thouart within a hair of it, my sweet Wit whether wilt thou? my delicate Poetical Fury, thoust hit it to a hair. By your favour Master Tucky, his bald reasons are wide above two hairs, I beseech you pardon me Ladies, that I thrust in so malapertly among you, for I did but much here, and see how this cruel Poet did handle bald heads. He gave them but their due Sir Vaughan; Widow did he not? By my faith he made more of a bald head, than ever I shall be able: he gave them their due truly. Nay uds blood, their due is to be a the right hair as I am, and that was not in his fingers to give, but in God a Mighties: Well, I will hire that humorous and fantastical Poet Master Horace, to break your bald pate Sir Adam. Break my bald pate? Dost hear my worshipful blockhead? Patience Captain Tucky, let me absolve him; I mean he shall prick, prick your head or sconce a little with his goose-quills, for he shall make another Thalimum, or cross-sticks, or some palinoddies, with a few Nappy-grams in them that shall lift up hair, and set it an end, with his learned and hearty commendations. This is excellent, all will come out now. That same Horace methinks has the most ungodly face, by my Fan; it looks for all the world, like a rotten russet Apple, when 'tis bruised: It's better than a spoonful of Cinnamon water next my heart, for me to hear him speak; he sounds it so i'th' nose, and talks and rants for all the world, like the poor fellow under Ludgate: oh fie upon him.
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)
A head and face ore-gowne with Shaggie drosse, O, tis an Orient pearle hid all in Mosse, But when the head's ll naked and vncrown'd, It is the worlds Globe, euen, smooth and round; i which , Shootes her last Arrow: what man euer lead His age with a staffe; but had a head Bare and vncouer'd? hee whose yeares doe rise, To their full height, yet not balde, is not wie. The Head is Wisedomes house, but the thatch, Haire? It's the basest stubble; in scorne of it, This Prouerbe sprung, he has more haire then wit: Marke you not in derision how we call, A head growne thicke with haire, Bsh-naturall? By your leaue (Master Poet) but that Bush-naturall, is one a the trimmest, and most intanglingst beautie in a woman. Right, but beleeue this (pardon me most faire) You would haue much more wit, had you lesse haire: I could more wearie you to tell the proos. (As they passe by) which fight on Baldnes side, Then were you taskt to number on a head, The haires: I know not how your thoughts are lead, On this strong Tower shall my opinion rest, Heades thicke of haire are good, but balde the bst, Th'art within a haire of it, my swt Wit wher wil tho? my delicate Poeticall Furie, th'at hit it to a haire. By your fauour Master Tucky, his balde reasons are wide aboue two hayres, I besees you pardon mee Ladies, that I thrust in so malepartly among you, for I did but mych heee, and see how this cruell Poet did handle bald heades. He gaue them but their due Sir Vaughan; Widdow did he not? By my faith he made more of a balde head, than euer I shall be able: he gaue them their due truely. Nay vds bloud, their due is to bee a the right haire as I am, and that was not in his fingers to giue, but in God a Mighties: Well, I will hyre that humorous and fantasticall Poet Master Horace, to breake your balde pate Sir Adam. Breake my balde pate? Dost heare my worshipfull block-head? Patience Captaine Tucky, let me absolue him; I meane he shal pricke, pricke your head or sconce a little with his goose-quils, for he shal make another Thalimum, or crossetickes, or some Polinoddyes, with a fewe Nappy-grams in them that shall lift vp haire, and set it an end, with his learned and harty commendations. This is excellent, all will come out now. That same Horace me thinkes has the most vngodly face, by my Fan; it lookes for all the world, like a rotten russet Apple, when tis bruiz'd: Its better then a spoonefull of Sinamon water next my heart, for me to heare him speake; hee soundes it so i'th nose, and talkes and randes for all the world, like the poore fellow vnder Ludgate: oh fye vpon him.