Jonson, Ben · published 1616 · first performed or written 1609 (Annals) comedy · Children of the Queen's Revels T35 Fools, wit and railing typicality 0.86 · 477 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T35: fool, wit, aristippus, achilles, wise, fools, patroclus, thersites, master, men.
No marvel, if the door be kept shut against your master, when the entrance is so easy to you— well sir, you shall go there no more, lest I be feign to seek your voice in my lady's rushes, a fortnight hence. Sing, sir. Why, here's the man that can melt away his time, and never feels it! what, between his mistress abroad, and his eagle at home, high fare, soft lodging, fine clothes, and his fiddle; he thinks the hours ha' no wings, or the day no post-horse. Well, sir gallant, were you struck with the plague this minute, or condemned to any capital punishment to morrow, you would begin then to think, and value every article o' your time, esteem it at the true rate, and give all for't. Why, what should a man do? Why, nothing: or that, which when 'tis done, is as idle. hearken after the next horse-race, or hunting-match; lay wagers, praise Puppy, or Peppercorn, White-foote, Franklin; swear upon White-maine's party; spend aloud, that my lords may hear you; visit my ladies at night, and be able to give 'em the character of every bowler, or better o' the green. These be the things, wherein your fashionable men exercise themselves, and I for company. Nay, if I have thy authority, I'll not leave yet. Come, the other are considerations, when we come to have gray heads, and weak hams, moist eyes, and shrunk members. we'll think on 'em then; then we'll pray, and fast. I, and destiny only that time of age to goodness, which our want of ability will not let us employ in evil? Why, then 'tis time enough. Yes: as if a man should sleep all the term, and think to effect his business the last day. O, CLERIMONT, this time, because it is an incorporeal thing, and not subject to sense, we mock ourselves the fineliest out of it, with vanity, and misery indeed: not seeking an end of wretchedness, but only changing the matter still. Nay, thou'lt not leave now— See but our common disease! with what justice can we complain, that great men will not look upon us, nor be at leisure to give our affairs such dispatch, as we expect, when we will never do it to ourselves: nor hear, nor regard ourselves. Foh, thou hast read PLUTARCH'S morals, now, or some such tedious fellow; and it shows so vilely with thee: 'Fore god, 'twill spoil thy wit utterly. Talk me of pins, and feathers, and ladies, and rushes, and such things: and leave this Stoicitie alone, till thou makest sermons. Well, sir. If it will not take, I have learned to lose as little of my kindness, as I can. I'll do good to no man against his will, certainly. When were you at the college? What college? As if you knew not!
nodes 51–64 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 2 of 58 in this edition
Length
477 words · 658 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T35 — Fools, wit and railingcross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.857 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
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)
No maruell, if the dore bee kept shut against your master, when the entrance is so easie to you—well sir, you shall goe there no more, lest I bee faine to seeke your voyce in my ladies rushes, a fortnight hence. Sing, sir. Why, here's the man that can melt away his time, and neuer feeles it! what, betweene his mistris abroad, and his engle at home, high fare, soft lodging, fine clothes, and his fiddle; hee thinkes the houres ha' no wings, or the day no post-horse. Well, sir gallant, were you strooke with the plague this minute, or condemn'd to any capitall punishment to morrow, you would beginne then to thinke, and value euery article o' your time, esteeme it at the true rate, and giue all for't. Why, what should a man doe? Why, nothing: or that, which when 'tis done, is as idle. Harken after the next horse-race, or hunting-match; lay wagers, praise Puppy, or Pepper-corne, White-foote, Franklin; sweare vpon White-maynes partie; spend aloud, that my lords may heare you; visite my ladies at night, and bee able to giue 'hem the character of euery bowler, or better o' the greene. These be the things, wherein your fashionable men exercise themselues, and I for companie. Nay, if I haue thy authoritie, I'le not leaue yet. Come, the other are considerations, when wee come to haue gray heads, and weake hammes, moist eyes, and shrunke members. Wee'll thinke on 'hem then; then wee'll pray, and fast. I, and destine onely that time of age to goodnesse, which our want of abilitie will not let vs employ in euill? Why, then 'tis time enough. Yes: as if a man should sleepe all the terme, and thinke to effect his businesse the last day. O, CLERIMONT, this time, because it is an incorporeall thing, and not subiect to sense, we mocke our selues the fineliest out of it, with vanitie, and miserie indeede: not seeking an end of wretchednesse, but onely changing the matter still. Nay, thou'lt not leaue now— See but our common disease! with what iustice can wee complaine, that great men will not looke vpon vs, nor be at leisure to giue our affaires such dispatch, as wee expect, when wee will neuer doe it to our selues: nor heare, nor regard our selues. Foh, thou hast read PLVTARCHS moralls, now, or some such tedious fellow; and it showes so vilely with thee: 'Fore god, 'twill spoile thy wit vtterly. Talke me of pinnes, and feathers, and ladies, and rushes, and such things: and leaue this Stoicitie alone, till thou mak'st sermons. Well, sir. If it will not take, I haue learn'd to loose as little of my kindnesse, as I can. I'le doe good to no man against his will, certainely. When were you at the colledge? What colledge? As if you knew not!