Satiromastix, or The Untrussing of the Humorous Poet · chunk 38 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 T38 Death, parting and grief at court · 517 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T38: queen, king, death, dead, heart, life, die, lord, royal, news.
Dead! Dead, she's deaths Bride, he hath her maidenhead. Sir Walter Terrill. Tell us how. All cease, The subject that we treat of now is Peace, If you demand how: I can tell: if why, Ask the King that; he was the cause, not I. Let it suffice, she's dead, she kept her vow, Ask the King why, and then I'll tell you how: Nay give your Revels life, though she be gone, To Court with all your preparation; Lead on, and lead her on; if any ask The mystery, say death presents a mask, Ring peals of Music, you are lovers bells, The loss of one heaven, brings a thousand hells. Why so, even thus the Mercury of Heaven, Ushers th'ambrosiate banquet of the Gods, When a long train of Angels in a rank, Serve the first course, and bow their Crystal knees, Before the Silver table; where Ioues page Sweet Ganymede fills Nectar: when the Gods. Drink healths to Kings, they pledge them; none but Kings Dare pledge the Gods; none but God's drink to Kings. Men of our house are we prepared? My Liege, All wait the presence of the Bride. The Bride? Yea, every senseless thing, which she beholds, Will look on her again, her eyes reflection, Will make the walls all eyes, with her perfection: Observe me now, because of Masks and Revels, And many nuptial ceremonies: Mark, This I create the Presence, here the State, Our kingdoms seat, shall sit in honour's Pride, Like pleasure's Queen, there will I place the Bride: Be gone, be speedy, let me see it done. A King in Love, is Steward to himself, And never scorns the office, myself buy, All glances from the Market of her eye. Sound Music, thou sweet suitor to the air, Now woo the air again, this is the hour, Writ in the Calendar of time, this hour, Music shall spend, the next and next the Bride; Her tongue will read the music-lecture: What I love thee Wat, because thou art not wise; Not deep-read in the volume of a man, Thou never sawst a thought, poor soul thou thinkst, The heart and tongue is cut out of one piece, But thouart deceived, the world hath a false light, Fools think 'tis day, when wise men know 'tis night. My Liege they're come, a mask of gallants, Now— the spirit of Love ushers my blood. They come. The Watchword in a Mask is the bold Drum. All pleasures guard my King, I here present, My oath upon the knee of duty: knees Are made for Kings, they are the subjects Fees. Wat Terrill, thouart ill suited, ill made up, In Sable colours, like a night piece died, Com'st thou the Prologue of a Mask in black; Thy body is ill shaped; a Bridegroom too? Look how the day is dressed in Silver cloth, Laid round about with golden Sunbeams: so (As white as heaven) should a fresh Bridegroom go. What? Caelestine the Bride, in the same task? Nay then I see there's mystery in this mask. Prithee resolve me Wat?
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)
Dead! Dead, sh's deathes Bride, he hath her maidenhead. Sir Walter Terrill. Tell vs how. All cease, The subiect that we treate of now is Peace, If you demaund how: I can tell: if why, Aske the King that; he was the cause, not I. Let it suffice, she's dead, she kept her vow, Aske the King why, and then Ile tell you how: Nay giue your Reuels life, tho she be gone, To Court with all your preparation; Leade on, and leade her on; if any aske The mistery, say death presents a maske, Ring peales of Musicke, you are Louers belles, The losse of one heauen, brings a thousand hels. Why so, euen thus the Mercury of ▪ Vshers th'ambrosiate banquet of the Gods, When a long traine of Angels in a ranke, Serue the first course, and bow their Christall knees, Before the Siluer table; where Ioues page Sweet Ganimed filles Nectar: when the Gods. Drinke healthes to Kings, they pledge them; none but Kings Dare pledge the Gods; none but Gods drinke to Kings. Men of our house are we prepar'd? My Leige, All waite the presence of the Bride. The Bride? Yea, euery senceles thing, which she beholdes, Wil looke on her agen, her eyes reflection, Will make the walles all eyes, with her perfection: Obserue me now, because of Maskes and Reuels, And many nuptiall ceremonies: Marke, This I create the Presence, heere the State, Our Kingdomes seate, shall sit in honours Pride, Like pleasures Queene, there will I place the Bride: Be gone, be speedy, let me see it done. A King in Loue, is Steward to himselfe, And neuer scornes the office, my selfe buy, All glances from the Market of her eye. Sound Musicke, thou sweet suiter to the ayre, Now wooe the ayre agen▪ this is the houre, Writ in the Calender of time, this houre, Musicke shall spend, the next and next the Bride; Her tongue will read the Musicke-Lecture: Wat I loue thee Wat, because thou art not wise; Not deep-read in the volume of a man, Thou neuer sawst a thought, poore soule thou thinkst, The heart and tongue is cut out of one peece, But th'art deceau'd, the world hath a false light, Fooles thinke tis day, when wise men know tis night. My Leige they're come▪ a maske of gallants, Now—the spirit of Loue vshers my bloud. They come. The Watch-word in a Maske is the bolde Drum. All pleasures guard my King, I heere present, My oath vpon the knee of duety: knees Are made for Kings, they are the subiects Fees. Wat Terrill▪ th'art ill suited, ill made vp, In Sable collours, like a night peece dyed, Com'st thou the Prologue of a Maske in blacke; Thy body is ill shapt; a Bride-groome too? Looke how the day is drest in Siluer cloth, Laide round about with golden Sunne-beames: so (As white as heauen) should a fresh Bride-groome goe. What? Caelestine the Bride, in the same taske? Nay then I see ther's mistery in this maske. Prethee resolue me Wat?