Jonson, Ben · published 1616 · first performed or written 1606 [1605-1606] (Annals) comedy · King's Men unassigned nearest T35 Fools, wit and railing · 490 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T35: fool, wit, aristippus, achilles, wise, fools, patroclus, thersites, master, men.
Troth, this I am in, even here would I tarry. 'Cause here, the delight of each sex thou canst vary? Alas, those pleasures be stale, and forsaken; No, 'tis your Fool, wherewith I am so taken, The only one creature, that I can call blessed: For all other forms I have proved most distressed. Spoke true, as thou wert in Pythagoras' still. This learned opinion we celebrate will, Fellow eunuch (as behooves us) with all our wit, and art, To dignify that, whereof ourselves are so great, and special a part. Now very, very pretty: MOSCA, this Was thy invention? If it please my patron, Not else. It doth, good MOSCA. Then it was, sir. fools, they are the only nation Worth men's envy, or admiration; Free from care, or sorrow-taking, Selves, and others merry-making: All they speak, or do, is sterling. Your Fool, he is your great man's darling, And your Lady's sport, and pleasure; Tongue, and babble are his treasure. e'en his face begetteth laughter, And he speaks truth, free from slaughter; he's the grace of every feast, And, sometimes, the chiefest guest: Hath his trencher, and his stool, When wit waits upon the fool. O, who would not be He, he, he? Who's that? away, look MOSCA. Fool, begone, 'Tis signor VOLTORE, the Advocate, I know him, by his knock. Fetch me my gown, My furs and nightcaps; say, my couch is changing: And let him entertain himself, awhile, Without i' th' gallery. Now, now, my clients Begin their visitation! vulture, kite, Raven, and gor-crow, all my birds of prey, That think me turning carcase, now they come: I am not for 'em yet. How now? the news? A piece of plate, sir. Of what bigness? Huge, Massy, and antic, with your name inscribed, And arms engraven. Good! and not a fox Stretched on the earth, with fine delusive sleights, Mocking a gaping crow? ha, MOSCA? Sharp, sir. Give me my furs. Why dost thou laugh so, man? I cannot choose, sir, when I apprehend What thoughts he has (without) now, as he walks: That this might be the last gift, he should give; That this would fetch you; if you died today, And gave him all, what he should be tomorrow; What large return would come of all his venters; How he should worshipped be, and reverenced; Ride, with his furs, and foot-cloths; waited on By herds of fools, and clients; have clear way Made for his moil, as lettered as himself; Be called the great, and learned Advocate: And then concludes, there's nought impossible. Yes, to be learned, MOSCA. O, no: rich Implies it. Hood an ass, with reverend purple, So you can hide his two ambitious ears, And, he shall pass for a cathedral Doctor. My caps, my caps, good MOSCA, fetch him in. Stay, sir, your ointment for your eyes. That's true; Dispatch, dispatch: I long to have possession Of my new present.
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)
Troth, this I am in, euen here would I tarry. 'Cause here, the delight of each sexe thou canst vary? Alas, those pleasures be stale, and forsaken; No, 'tis your Foole, wherewith I am so taken, The onely one creature, that I can call blessed: For all other formes I haue prou'd most distressed. Spoke true, as thou wert in PYTHAGORAS still. This learned opinion we celebrate will, Fellow eunuch (as behooues vs) with all our wit, and art, To dignifie that, whereof our selues are so great, and speciall a part. Now very, very pretty: MOSCA, this Was thy inuention? If it please my patron, Not else. It doth, good MOSCA. Then it was, sir. FOoles, they are the onely nation Worth mens enuy, or admiration; Free from care, or sorrow-taking, Selues, and others merry-making: All they speake, or doe, is sterling. Your Foole, he is your great mans dearling, And your ladies sport, and pleasure; Tongue, and bable are his treasure. Eene his face begetteth laughter, And he speakes truth, free from slaughter; Hee's the grace of euery feast, And, sometimes, the chiefest guest: Hath his trencher, and his stoole, When wit waites vpon the foole. O, who would not bee Hee, hee, hee? Who's that? away, looke MOSCA. Foole, begone, 'Tis signior VOLTORE, the Aduocate, I know him, by his knock. Fetch me my gowne, My furres and night-caps; say, my couch is changing: And let him entertayne himselfe, awhile, Without i' th' gallerie. Now, now, my clients Beginne their visitation! vulture, kite, Rauen, and gor-crow, all my birds of prey, That thinke me turning carcasse, now they come: I am not for 'hem yet. How now? the newes? A piece of plate, sir. Of what bignesse? Huge, Massie, and antique, with your name inscrib'd, And arms ingrauen. Good! and not a foxe Stretch'd on the earth, with fine delusiue sleights, Mocking a gaping crow? ha, MOSCA? Sharpe, sir. Giue me my furres. Why dost thou laugh so, man? I cannot choose, sir, when I apprehend What thoughts he has (without) now, as he wakes: That this might be the last gift, he should giue; That this would fetch you; if you dyed to day, And gaue him all, what he should be to morrow; What large returne would come of all his venters; How he should worship'd be, and reuerenc'd; Ride, with his furres, and foot-clothes; waited on By herds of fooles, and clients; haue cleere way Made for his moyle, as letter'd as himselfe; Be cald the great, and learned Aduocate: And then concludes, there's nought impossible. Yes, to be learned, MOSCA. O, no: rich Implies it. Hood an asse, with reuerend purple, So you can hide his two ambitious eares, And, he shall passe for a cathedrall Doctor. My caps, my caps, good MOSCA, fetch him in. Stay, sir, your ointment for your eyes. That's true; Dispatch, dispatch: I long to haue possession Of my new present.