The Gentleman Usher (Vincentio and Margaret) · chunk 12 of 42
Chapman, George · published 1606 · first performed or written 1606 (Annals) comedy · Children of the Chapel (second) or Children of Paul’s (second) unassigned nearest T20 Hercules: labours, suffering and virtue · 489 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T20: hercules, hercles, ioue, deianeira, alcides, hand, lo, death, skies, hell.
Heroes, and Heroines, of gallant strain, Let not these Brooms, motes in your eyes remain, For in the Moon, there's one bears withered bushes: But we (dear wights) do bear green brooms, green rushes, Where of these verdant herbals cleped Broom, Do pierce and enter every lady's room, And to prove them high borne, and no base trash, Water with which your phisnomies you wash, Is but a Broom. And more truth to deliver, Grim Hercules swept a stable with a river, The wind that sweeps foul clouds out of the air, And for you Ladies makes the welkin fair, Is but a Broom: and O Dan Titan bright, Most clerkly called the Scavenger of night, What art thou, but a very broom of gold? For all this world not to be cried nor sold; Philosophy, that passion sweeps from thought, Is the soul's Broom, and by all brave wits sought, Now if Philosophers but broom-men are, Each Broomeman then is a Philosopher. And so we come (gracing your gracious Graces) To sweep Cares cobwebs from your cleanly faces. Thanks good master Broomeman, For me Rushman then, To make Rush ruffle in a verse of ten, A Rush which now your heels do lie on here. Cry mercy sir. Was whilom used for a pungent spear, In that odd battle, never fought but twice (As Homer sings) betwixt the frogs and mice, Rushes make true-Love know; Rushes make rings, Your Rush maugre the beard of whiter springs: And when with gentle, amorous, ay , Each Lord with his fair Lady sweetly swims On these cool Rushes; they may with these babbles, Cradles for children make; children for cradles, And lest some Momus here might now cry push, Saying our pageant is not worth a Rush, Bundles of Rushes, lo, we bring along, To pick his teeth that bites them with his tongue. See, see, that's Lord Medice. God's me, my Lord, Haz hee pickt you out, piing of yor th? What pick you out of that? Not such stae stu As you pick from your teeth. Leave this war with Rushes, Good master pedant; pray forth with your show. Lo thus far then (brave duke) you see Meere entertainement; Now our gl Shall march forth in morality: And this quaint Duchess here shall see The fault of virgin Nicety, First wooed with Rural courtesy, disburden them; prance on this ground, And make your exit with your Round. Well have they danced as it is meet, Both with their nimble heads and feet. Now, as our country girls held off, And rudely did their lovers scoff; Our Nymph likewise shall only glance By your fair eyes, and look askance Upon her female friend that woos her. Who is in plain field forced to lose her. And after them, to conclude all, The purlieu of our Pastoral. A female bug, and eke her friend, Shall only come and sing, and end
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)
Heroes, and Heroines, of gallant straine, Let not these Broomes, motes in your eies remaine, For in the Moone, theres one beares with'red bushes: But we (deare wights) do beare greene broomes, green rushes, Where of these verdant herbals cleeped Broome, Do pierce and enter euerie Ladies roome, And to proue them high borne, and no base trash, Water with which your phisnomies you wash, Is but a Broome. And more truth to deliuer, Grim Hercules swept a stable with a riuer, The wind that sweepes fowle clowds out of the ayre, And for you Ladies makes the Welken faire, Is but a Broome: and O Dan Titan bright, Most clearkly calld the Scauenger of night, What art thou, but a verie broome of gold? For all this world not to be cride nor sold; Philosophy, that passion sweepes from thought, Is the soules Broome, and by all braue wits sought, Now if Philosophers but Broomemen are, Each Broomeman then is a Philosopher. And so we come (gracing your gratious Graces) To sweepe Cares cobwebs from your cleanly faces. Thanks good master Broomeman, For me Rushman then, To make Rush ruffle in a vpse of ten, A Rush which now your heeles doe lie on ere. Crie mercie ir. Was whilome vsed for a pungent speare, In that odde battaile, neuer fought but twice (As Homer ings) betwixt the frogs and mice, Rushes make True-loue kno; Rushes , Your Rush maugre the beard of : And when with gentle, amorous, ay , Each Lord with his faire Ladie swtly swims On these coole Rushes; they may with these bables, Cradles for children make; children for cradles, And lest some Momus here might now rie push, Saying our pageant is not woorth a Rush, Bundles of Rushes, lo, we bring along, To picke his teeth that bies them with his tongue. See, see, thats Lord Mdice. Gods me, my Lord, Haz hee pickt you out, piing of yor th? What picke you ou of that? Not such stae stu As you picke from your teeth. Leaue this warre with Rushes, Good master pedant; pray forth with your shew. Lo thus farre thn (braue duke) you see Meere entertainement; Now our gl Shall march forth in : And this qeint Dutchesse here shall see The fault of virgine Nicetie, First wooed with Rurall courtese, Disbrthen them; praunce on this ground, And make your xit with your Round. Well haue they denc'd as it is meet, Both with their imble heades and eet. Now, as our coury girls held off, And rudely did their louers scoff; Our Nymph hall only glaunce By your faire eies, and looke Vpon hr female friend that woes her. Who is in plaine to loose her. And after them, to conclude all, The prlue of our Paorall. A female bug, and eke her friend, Shall onely come ad sing, and end