Satiromastix, or The Untrussing of the Humorous Poet · chunk 40 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) T9 Theatre talk: prologues, poets and playe typicality 0.67 · 486 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T9: play, stage, poet, prologue, author, wit, plays, muse, scene, players.
My Liege, to wed a Comical event, To presupposed tragic Argument: Vouchsafe to exercise your eyes, and see A humorous dreadful Poet take degree. Dreadful in his proportion or his pen? In both, he calls himself the whip of men. If a clear merit stand upon his praise, Reach him a poet's Crown (the honoured bays) But if he claim it, wanting right thereto, (As many bastard Sons of Poesy do) Race down his usurpation to the ground. True Poets are with Art and Nature Crowned. But in what mould soe'er this man be east; We make him thine Crispinus', wit and judgement, Shine in thy numbers, and thy soul I know, Will not go armed in passion 'gainst thy foe: Therefore be thou ourself; whilst ourself But as spectator of this Scene of wit. Thanks royal Lord, for these high honours done, To me unworthy, my minds brightest fires Shall all consume themselves, in purest flame, On the Altar of your dear eternal name. Not under us, but next us take thy Seat, " Arts nourished by Kings make Kings more great, Use thy Authority. Demetrius. Call in that self-creating Horace, bring Him and his shadow forth. Both shall appear, " No black-tied star must stick in virtues Sphere. 'ounds did you see him, I pray let all his Masesties most excellent dogs, be set at liberties, and have their freedoms to smell him out. Smell whom? Whom? the Composer, the Prince of Poets, Horace, Horace, he's departed: in God's name and the Kings I sarge you to ring it out from all our ears, for Horace's body is departed: Master hue and cry shall— God bless King William's, I cry you mercy and ask forgiveness, for mine eyes did not find in their hearts to look upon your Majesty. What news with thee Sir Vaughan? News? God 'tis as vrse news as I can desire to bring about me: our unhandsome-faced Poet does play at bo-peeps with your Grace, and cries all-hid as boys do. Stand by, room there, back, room for the Poet. He's reprehended and taken, by Sesu I rejoice very near as much as if I had discovered a newfound Land, or the North and East Indies. So, tug, tug, pull the mad Bull in byth' horns: So, bait one at that stake my place-mouth yelpers, and one at that stake Gurnets-head. What busy fellow's this? Save thee, my most gracious King a Hearts save thee, all hats and caps are thine, and therefore I vail: for but to thee great Sultan Soliman, I scorn to be thus put off or to deliver up this sconce I would. Sir Vaughan, what's this jolly captains name? Has a very sufficient name, and is a man has done God and his Country as good and as hot Service (in conquering this vile Monster-Poet) as ever did S. George his horseback about the Dragon.
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)
My Leige, to wed a Comicall euent, To presupposed tragicke Argument: Vouchsafe to exercise your eyes, and see A humorous dreadfull Poet take degree. Dreadfull in his proportion or his pen? In both, he calles himselfe the whip of men. If a cleare merrit stand vpon his praise, Reach him a Poets Crowne (the honour'd Bayes) But if he claime it, wanting right thereto, (As many bastard Sonnes of Poesie doe) Race downe his vsurpation to the ground. rue Poets are with Arte and Nature Crown'd. But in what molde so ere this man bee east; We make him thine Crispinus, wit and iudgement, Shine in thy numbers, and thy soule I know, Will not goe arm'd in passion gainst thy foe: Therefore be thou our selfe; whilst our selfe , But as spectator of this Sceane of wit. Thankes royall Lord, for these high honors done, To me vnworthie, my mindes brightest fires Shall all consume themselues, in purest flame, On the Alter of your deare eternall name. Not vnder vs, but next vs take thy Seate, "Arts nourished by Kings make Kings more great, Vse thy Authority. Demetrius. Call in that self-creating Horace, bring Him and his shaddow foorth. Both shall appeare, " No black-tyed star must stickein vertues Spheare. Ounds did you see him, I pray let all his Masesties most excellent dogs, be set at liberties, and haue their freedoms to smell him out. Smell whom? Whom? the Composer, the Prince of Poets, Horace, Horace, he's departed: in Gods name and the Kinges I sarge you to ring it out from all our eares, for Horaces bodie is departed: Master hue and crie shall—God blesse King Williams, I crie you mercy and aske forgiuenes, for mine eyes did not finde in their hearts to looke vppon your Maiestie. What news with thee Sir Vaughan? Newes? God tis as vrse newes as I can desire to bring about mee: our vnhansome-fac'd Poet does play at bo-peepes with your Grace, and cryes all-hidde as boyes doe. Stand by, roome there, backe, roome for the Poet. He's reprehended and taken, by Sesu I reioyce very neere as much as if I had discouer'd a New-found Land, or the North and East Indies. So, tug, tug, pull the mad Bull in by'th hornes: So, baite one at that stake my place-mouth yelpers, and one at that stake Gurnets-head. What busie fellow's this? Saue thee, my most gracious King a Harts saue thee, all hats and caps are thine, and therefore I vaile: for but to thee great Sultane Soliman, I scorne to be thus put off or to deliuer vp this sconce I wud. Sir Vaughan, what's this iolly Captaines name? Has a very sufficient name, and is a man has do God and his Country as good and as hot Seruice (in conquering this vile Monster-Poet) as euer did S. George his horsebacke about the Dragon.