If It Be Not Good, the Devil Is in It (If This Be Not a Good Play, the Devil Is in It) · chunk 12 of 44
Dekker, Thomas · published 1612 · first performed or written 1611 [1611-1612] (Annals) comedy · Queen Anne's Men · Red Bull unassigned nearest T9 Theatre talk: prologues, poets and playe · 484 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T9: play, stage, poet, prologue, author, wit, plays, muse, scene, players.
Oraculous is thy voice. How now count Brisco? methinks I read a comedy in thy looks. Has met some merry painter, he's drawn so lively. Come count your news. I shall bestow them freely: The physic of your proclamation works: Your guilded pills (rolled up in promises Of princely favours to his wit, who highest Can raise your pleasures) slip so smoothly down Your subjects throats, that all (upon a sudden) Are loosely given. How? loosely given? why count? Name but what sport, your Highness would have Acted I'm prologue took: your court must have more gates To let in ruffling Saturday: without (now) waits Music in some ten languages: each one swears (By Orpheus' fiddle-case) they will tickle your ears If they can do't with scraping. There's seven score Noise at least of english fiddlers. 7. score! they are able to eat up a city in very scraps Very bass-viol men most of 'em: besides whole swarms of welsh haps, Irish bagpipes, Jews trumps, And french kits. All these made I together play: But their damned caterwauling, frighted me away. These sports to please A PRINCE's eyes? How like you then of these? The city water-bearers (trimly dight) With yellow oaker-tankerds (pinned upright) Like brooches in their hats; In their fresh loves A may-game bring, All, wearing dogskin gloves. Made not to shrink i'th' wetting. Bid these poor men drink well, and so be gone. What will you have then? Will you see the turner's show, bravely prepared With colours, drums, and guns (with rust half marred Bearing that, of which they long have been deprived. What be't? Their daring Giant, (newly revived) For Ioues sake let's see that. O fie (Prince) fie! In thy court painted monsters, they come not here, Ride forth, thou shalt meet Giants everywhere. methinks (young Lords) your souls being new refined With beams of honour, should not be declined To sports so low and vulgar: but since the King Of birds (the Eagle) lets you spread a wing So near his own, you should put up such game As fits an Eagle, and pursue the same. And not like ravens, kites, or painted jays soar high, yet light on dunghills, for stinking preys. Old Lord you rave. What sports wood you devise? Most fit for Kings. Were I (before his eyes) To present objects, they should all be rare, Of Roman triumphs, laden with the spoils of war: Or Lions, and wild-bears killed by active force: Or sea-fights: or land battles on foot, or horse: Such sights as these, kindle in Kings brave fire, And meeting spirits that dare mount, mount'em higher, Where apish pastimes lay our souls down flat, groveling on earth, base and effeminate. I have bowls of this bias too, for your Lordship's alley. Trundle'em out before him. The wooden-leg Soldier, Waits to present you with his show of war. I marry my liege.
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)
Oraculous is thy voice. How now count Brisco? Me thinkes I read a comedy in thy lookes. Has met some merry painter, hees drawne so liuely. Come count your newes. I shall bestow them freely: The physicke of your proclamation workes: Your guilded pills (roll'd vp in promises Of princely fauours to his wit, who highest Can raise your pleasures) slip so smoothly downe Your Subiects throates, that all (vpon a sudden) Are loosely giuen. How? loosely giuen? why count? Name but what sport, your Highnes would haue Acted I'me prologue too: your court must haue more gates To let in rufling Saterday: without (now) waites Musicke in some ten languages: each one sweares (By Orpheus fiddle-case) they will tickle your ares If they can doo't with scraping. Theres seuen score Noise at least of english fidlers. 7. score! they are able to eate vp a citie in very scraps Very base-viall men most of 'em: besides whole swarmes of welsh harpes, Irish bag-pipes, Iewes trompes, And french kitts. All these made I together play: But their dambd catter-wralling, frighted me away. These sports to please A Princes eyes? How like you then of these? The cittie-waterbearers (trimly dight) With yellow oaker-tankerds (pind vpright) Like brooches in their hatts; In their fresh loues A may-game bring, All, wearing dog-skin gloues. Made not to shrinke it'h wetng. Bid these poore men drinke well, and so be gon. What will you haue then? Will you see the Turners shew, brauely preparde With colours, drumes, and gunnes (with rust halfe mar'de Bearing that, of which they long haue bin depriu'de. What ist? Their daring Giant, (newly reui'de) For Ioues sake lets see that. O fie (Prince) fie! In thy court painted monsters, they come not here, Ride forth, thou shalt meete Giants euery where. Me thinkes (yong Lords) your soules being new refinde With beames of honor, should not be declin'de To sports so low and vulgar: but since the King Of birdes (the Eagle) letts you spred a wing So neere his owne, you should put vp such game As fits an Eagle, and pursue the same. And not like rauens, kites, or painted Iayes So'are high, yet light on dunghills, for stinking preyes. Old Lord you raue. What sports wood you deuise? Most fit for Kings. Were I (before his eyes) To present obiects, they should all be rare, Of Romane triumps, laden with the spoiles of warre: Or Lions, and wilde-Beares kill'd by actiue force: Or sea-fights: or land battailes on foote, or horse: Such sights as these, kindle in Kings braue fire, And meeting spirits that dare mount, mount'em higher, Where pish pastimes lay our soules downe flat, Groueling on earth, base and effemminate. I haue bowles of this bias too, for your Lordships alley. Trundle'em out before him. The wodden-leg Souldier, Waites to present you with his show of warre. I mary my liege.