Marston, John · published 1607 · first performed or written 1607 (Annals) comedy · Children of Paul's (second) (?) unassigned nearest T9 Theatre talk: prologues, poets and playe · 509 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T9: play, stage, poet, prologue, author, wit, plays, muse, scene, players.
How prithee in a play? come, come, be sociable In private severance from society, Here leaps a vain of blood inflamed with love, Mounting to pleasure, all addict to mirth, thou'lt read a Satire or a Sonnet now, Clagging their airy humour with— Lamp oil, watch Candles, rug-gowns & small juice, Thin commons, four o'clock rising, I renounce you all, Now may I ternally abandon meat Rust fusty you which most embraced disuse, You a made me an Ass, thus shaped my lot, I am a mere Scholar, that is a mere sot. Come then Lamp, i'll power fresh Oil into thee, Apply thy spirit that it may nimbly turn, Unto the habit, fashion of the age, I'll make thee man the Scholar, enable thy behaviour, Apt for the entertain of any presence: I'll turn thee gallant, first thou shalt have a Mistress, How is thy spirit raised to yonder beauty? She with the sanguine cheek, the dimpled chin, The pretty amorous smile that clips her lips, And dallies bought her cheek— She with the speaking eye, That casts out beams as ardent as those flakes, Which singed the world by rash brained Phaeton, She with the lip, O lips! she for whose sake, A man could find in his heart to in-hell himself, There's more Philosophy, more theorems, More demonstrations, all invincible, More clear divinity drawn on her cheek, Then in all volumes tedious paraphrase, Of musty eld, O who would staggering doubt, The soul's eternity, seeing it hath Of heavenly beauty, but to case it up, Who would distrust a supreme existence, Able to confound when it can create, Such heaven on earth able to entrance, Amaze: O I 'tis providence, not chance. Now by the front of Ioue methinks her eye Shoots more spirit in me, O beauty feminine! How powerful art thou, what deep magic lies Within the circle of thy speaking eyes. Why now could I eat thee, thou dost please mine appetite, I can desist thee, God made thee a good fool, and happy and ignorant, and amorous, and rich and frail, and a Satirist, and an essayist, and sleepy, and proud, and indeed a fool and than thou shalt be sure of all these. Do but scorn her she is thine own, accost her carelessly, and her eye promiseth she will be bound to the good abbearing. Now sister Meletza dost mark their craft, some straggling thoughts transport thy attentiveness from his discourse, waste Iacomo's or our brother's plot? Both, both, sweet Lady, my Page heard all, we met the rogue, so like Albano, I beat the rogue. ay but when you were gone the rogue beat me. Now take my counsel, listen. A pretty youth, a pretty well shaped youth, a good leg, a very good eye, a sweet ingenious face, and I warrant a good wit, nay which is more, if he be poor I assure my soul he is chaste and honest, good faith I fancy, I fancy him, I and I may chance, well I'll think the rest.
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)
How pree-thee in a play? come, come, be sosiable In priuate seuerance from societie, Here leapes a vaine of bloud inflam'd with loue, Mounting to pleasure, all adict to mirth, Thoult read a Satyre or a Sonnet now, Clagging their ayery humor with— Lamp oyle, watch Candles, Rug-gownes & small iuice, Thin commons, foure a clock rising, I renounce you all, Now may I ternally abandon meat Rust fustie you which most imbrac'd disuse, You a made me an Asse, thus shapt my lot, I am a meere Scholler, that is a meere sot. Come then Lampe, ile powre fresh Oyle into thee, Apply thy spirit that it may nimbly turne, Vnto the habit, fashion of the age, Ile make thee man the Scholler, inable thy behauiour, Apt for the intertaine of any presence: Ile turne thee gallant, first thou shalt haue a Mistresse, How is thy spirit rais'd to yonder beauty? She with the sanguine cheeke, the dimpled chinne, The pretty amorous smile that clips her lips, And dallyes bought her cheeke— Shee with the speaking eye, That castes out beames as ardent as those flakes, Which sing'd the world by rash braind Phaeton, She with the lip, O lips! she for whose sake, A man could finde in his heart to in-hell himselfe, There's more Philosophy, more theoremes, More demonstrations, all inuincible, More cleare diuinity drawne on her cheeke, Then in all volumes tedious paraphase, Of musty eld, O who would staggering doubt, The soules eternity, seeing it hath Of heauenly beauty, but to case it vp, Who would distrust a supreame existence, Able to confound when it can creale, Such heauen on earth able to intrance, Amaze: O I 'tis prouidence, not chance. Now by the front of Ioue me thinks her eye Shootes more spirit in me, O beautie feminine! How powerfull art thou, what deepe magick lyes Within the circle of thy speaking eyes. Why now could I eate thee, thou doost please mine appetite, I can disist thee, God made thee a good foole, and happy and ignorant, and amarous, and riche and fraile, and a Satyrist, and an Essayest, and sleepy, and proud, and indeed a foole and then thou shalt bee sure of all these. Doe but scorne her shee is thine owne, accost her carelesly, and her eye promiseth shee will be bound to the good abbearing. Now sister Meletza doost marke their craft, some straggling thoughts transport thy attentiuenesse from his discourse, wast Iacomos or our brothers plot? Both, both, sweete Lady, my Page heard all, we mette the roague, so like Albano, I beat the roague. I but when you were gone the roague beat me. Now take my counsell, listen. A pretty youth, a pretty well shapt youth, a good leg, a very good eye, a sweete ingenious face, and I warrant a good witte, nay which is more, if hee bee poore I assure my soule hee is chaste and honest, good faith I fancy, I fancie him, I and I may chance, well Ile thinke the rest.