Middleton, Thomas · published 1607 · first performed or written 1604 [1603-1604] (Annals) comedy · Children of Paul's (second) · before the Court T9 Theatre talk: prologues, poets and playe typicality 0.68 · 550 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T9: play, stage, poet, prologue, author, wit, plays, muse, scene, players.
The balsam of a temperate brain, I pour into this thirsty vein, And with this blessed oil of quiet, Which is so cheap, that few men buy it, Thy stormy Temples I allay, Thou shalt give up the Devil and pray, Forsake his works, they're foul and black, And keep thee bare in purse and back. No more shalt thou in paper quarrel, To dress up Apes in good apparel. He throws his stock, and all his flock, Into a swallowing gulf, That sends his Goose unto his Fox, His Lamb unto his Wolf. Keep thy increase, And live at peace, For war's not equal to this battle, That eats but men this men and cat-tail, Therefore no more this combat choose: Where he that wins, does always lose, And those that gain all, with this curse receive it, From fools they get it, to their sons they leave it. Hail sacred patience, I begin to feel I have a Conscience now, Truth in my words, Compassion in my heart, & above all, in my blood pieces music, Use me how you can, You shall find me an honest-quiet man. Oh, pardon, that I dare behold that face, " Now I've least law, I hope have most grace, We both admire the workman and his piece: Thus when all hearts are tuned to honours strings, There is no music to the Choir of Kings. THe marks and notions extant in each spirit, Sealed by th'industrious hand of art & merit, methinks appear transparent (as the mind By fence were bounded and might seem confined In th' external eye) nor shall our tragic muse, (If strong hope fail not) need a coined excuse But to those marginal notes of yours do bring (In following numbers from the learned spring) Matter instructive to enrich their parts Where knowledge reigns crowned with it own deserts, Let such with serious and impartial hearing Sound sense, quick sight and judgement never erring: Survey and censure the Minerval frame Of his elaborate work: and if his name Merit regard, and you vouchsafe to grace him With eminent love, or 'mongst those laureates place him, That with the magic of sweet poesy, Transfer Parnassus into Brittany, He shall digest the Chaos of his brain, To tuneful order and acquire a strain, Near to the music of the heavenly spheres, To fit Times guard and ravish choicest ears. FAme and Opinion like the two winged cap On Hermes head, do lift all Poets up: Some, though deserving, yet above the Sphere Of true impartial censure, whose tuned ear Listens to all and can with judgement say, Others sing well, though Thracian Orpheus play. Our Muse affects no excellence: if Fame tell And through her shrill trump at the Muses well (Where the thrice trebled bench of learning sits In strict examination of others wits) Sound ours, though humbly strains, whose infant growth Nor dares, nor will, with times hugged darlings quarrel, Nor stand the lightning with the sacred Laurel) We rest content: yet thus far may conceit Carry each labouring Artist, where the weight Of his oyld task is over, that his tongue May like a father of his tender young Speak natures language and not be withstood, When with our Muse he saith, that This is good.
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)
The Balſum of a temperate braine, I poure into this thirſtie veine, And with this bleſſed oyle of quiet, Which is ſo cheape, that few men buy it, Thy ſtormie Temples I allay, Thou ſhalt giue vp the Diuell and pray, Forſake his works, the'yre foule and black, And keepe thee bare in purſſe and backe. No more ſhalt thou in paper quarrell, To dreſſe vp Apes in good apparell. He throwes his ſtocke, and all his flocke, Into a ſwallowing gulfe, That ſendes his Gooſe vnto his Foxe, His Lambe vnto his Wolfe. Keepe thy encreaſe, And liue at peace, For war's not equall to this battaile, That eates but men this men and cattaile, Therefore no more this combate chooſe: Where he that wins, do's alwayes looſe, And thoſe that gaine all, with this curſſe receiue it, From fooles they get it, to their ſonnes they leaue it. Haile ſacred patience, I begin to feele I haue a Conſcience now, Truth in my words, Compaſſion in my hart, & aboue al, in my blood peaces muſick, Vſe me how you can, You ſhall find me an honeſt-quiet man. Oh, pardon, that I dare behold that face, "Now I'ue leaſt law, I hope haue moſt grace, We both admire the work-man and his peece: Thus when all hearts are tunde to Honors ſtrings, There is no muſicke to the Quire of Kings. THe markes and notions extant in each ſpirit, Seald by th'induſtrious hand of art & merit, Me thinkes appeare tranſparant (as the minde By fence were bounded and might ſeeme confind In th' externall eye) nor ſhall our tragicke muſe, (If ſtrong hope faile not) need a coynd excuſe But to thoſe marginall noates of yours do bring (In following nombers from the learned ſpring) Matter inſtructiue to inrich their parts Where knowledge raignes crownd with it own deſarts, Let ſuch with ſerious and impartiall hearing Sound ſence, quicke ſight and iudgement neuer erring: Suruay and cenſure the mineruall frame Of his elaborate worke: and if his name Merrit regard, and you vouchſafe to grace him With eminent loue, or mongſtthoſe lawreats place him, That with the magicke of ſweet poeſie, Tranſfer Pernaſſus into Brittany, He ſhall digeſt the Chaos of his braine, To tunefull order and acquire a ſtraine, Neere to the muſicke of the heauenly ſpheres, To fit Times guard and rauiſh choyſeſt eares. FAme and Opinion like the two vvingd cap On Hermes head, do lift all Poets vp: Some, though deſeruing, yet aboue the Sphere Of true impartiall cenſure, vvhoſe tun'd eare Liſtens to all and can vvith iudgement ſay, Others ſing vvell, though Thracian Orpheus play. Our Muſe affects no excellence: if Fame tell And through her ſhrill trompe at the Muſes well (Where the thrice trebled bench of learning ſits In ſtrict examination of others wits) Sound ours, thogh humbly ſtraines, whoſe infant growth Nor dares, nor will, with times hugd darlings quarrell, Nor ſtand the lightning with the ſacred Lawrell) We reſt content: yet thus farre may conceipt Carry each labouring Artiſt, where the weight Of his oyld taske is ouer, that his tongue May like a father of his tender young Speak natures language and not be withſtood, When with our Muſe he ſaith, that This is good.