Technogamia, or The Marriages of the Arts · chunk 1 of 64
Holyday, Barten · published 1618 · first performed or written 1618 [Feb 13] (Annals) comedy · at University T9 Theatre talk: prologues, poets and playe typicality 0.78 · 507 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T9: play, stage, poet, prologue, author, wit, plays, muse, scene, players.
GRacious Spectators, not to vex your ears With some old Negative Prologue, saying, Here's No Soldier, no Parasite, no Whore, No bawd (for many understand no more Than such cheap stage-ware) to unfold our Scene, And without vail to Open what we mean Behold. Our Poet knowing our free hearts Has here invited Heaven and All the Arts To entertain His Theater, and does bring What he prepared for our Platonic King: Deeming Your judgements able to supply The absence of So Great a Majesty. But his free conscience does protest, the mirth Of this his night was but a five-weeks' birth; Yet no Abortive; if your courteous hands Shall wrap the Infant in his swathing bands. It Speaks Already and each Art, to raise Delight, does use its Own Distinguished phrase. Lend your Purged ears. If any do look grim, Our Author says they wrong the Arts not Him: He strives to Please. But yet he scorns to be So vile, to Bargain for a Plaudite; And from your seats, at a Compacted clap, Hug an Abusing joy. If 'tis his hap To have your Free applause, to This he stands, The Arts shall not more crown him, than Your Hands. PHANTASTES, leave us. I might very well be here, Sir, at a-wooing match; but, I go: yet I will not be far off. Come, now you shall, Astronomia. What shall I, Geographus? Kiss. What? o' spite of my teeth? No not so, I hope you do not use to kiss with your teeth. Marry and I hope I do not use to kiss without them. ay, but (my fine Wit-catcher) I mean you do not Show your teeth when you kiss:— 't is thy ambrosiac lip (sweet Nymph) which thus I salute after the fine French— thus, the gracious Spanish,— (hold still) thus the slavering Dutch— (nay, I will) and thus the devouring Italian fashion— I'm a Courtier sweet Nymph, I'm a Courtier; pardon my (you know the Court-humor) boldness. What? is't the Court humour then to kiss a Maid out of breath? No, sweet chuck, but to kiss them In breath; to make them long-breathed in kissing, and able to endure a Smothering and Revive again. Faith for my part Sir Courtier, than I am not acquainted with a long breath; though, I think, they that use kissing much, are acquainted with long breaths, for, I warrant them, they may be smelled far enough off. Come, my Heaven, I must take off your Zone; shall Astronomia be in girt with a Zone, and not Geographus? especially since all we Lovers live under Zona torrida. If it be So Sir, than I pray you keep you there still; for My Zone, I'll assure you, as yet is a Temperate one; pardon me Sir, Ungirt Unblessed: if I am not Fast, I'm Loose, untie the Heavens and take away their Zones, we should have brave Sky-falling. Geog. ay, and brave Lark-catching, (pretty Bird) ah! were they all such as Thee, it should be my First wish.
seed 43: T16 · seed 44: T15 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
GRacious Spectators, not to vexe your eares With ſome old Negatiue Prologue, ſaying, Here's No Souldier, no Paraſite, no Whore, No Baud (for many vnderſtand no more Then ſuch cheape ſtage-ware) to vnfold our Scene, And without vaile to Open what we meane Behold. Our Poet knowing our free hearts Has here inuited Heau'n and All the Artes To entertayne His Theater, and does bring What he prepar'd for our Platonique King: Deeming Your iudgements able to ſupply The abſence of So Great a Maieſty. But his free conſcience does proteſt, the mirth Of this his night was but a Fiue-weekes birth; Yet no Abortiue; if your courteous hands Shall wrap the Infant in his ſwathing bands. It Speakes Already and each Arte, to raiſe Delight, does vſe it's Owne Diſtinguiſht phraſe. Lend your Purg'd eares. If any doe looke grim, Our Author ſayes they wrong the Artes not Him: He ſtriues to Pleaſe. But yet he ſcornes to be So vile, to Bargaine for a Plaudite; And from your ſeates, at a Compacted clap, Hugge an Abuſing ioy. If 'tis his hap To haue your Free applauſe, to This he ſtands, The Artes ſhall not more crowne him, then Your Hands. PHANTASTES, leaue vs. I might very well be here, Sir, at a wooing match; but, I goe: yet I will not be farre off. Come, now you ſhall, Aſtronomia. What ſhall I, Geographus? Kiſſe. What? a' ſpight of my teeth? No not ſo, I hope you doe not vſe to kiſſe with your teeth. Marry and I hope I doe not vſe to kiſſe without them. I, but (my fine Wit-catcher) I meane you doe not Show your teeth when you kiſſe: — 't is thy Ambroſiake lippe (ſweete Nymph) which thus I ſalute after the fine French— thus, the gracious Spaniſh, — (hold ſtill) thus the ſlauering Dutch — (nay, I will) and thus the deuouring Italian faſhion — I'me a Courtier ſweet Nymph, I'me a Courtier; pardon my (you know the Court-humor) boldnes. What? is't the Court humour then to kiſſe a Mayde out of breath? No, ſweet chucke, but to kiſſe them In breath; to make them long-breath'd in kiſſing, and able to endure a Smothering and Reuiue againe. Faith for my part Sir Courtier, then I am not acquainted with a long breath; though, I thinke, they that vſe kiſſing much, are acquainted with long breaths, for, I warrant them, they may be ſmelt farre enough off. Come, my Heau'n, I muſt take off your Zone; ſhall Aſtronomia bee in girt with a Zone, and not Geographus? eſpecially ſince all we Louers liue vnder Zona torrida. If it bee So Sir, then I pray you keepe you there ſtill; for My Zone, Ile aſſure you, as yet is a Temperate one; pardon me Sir, Ʋngirt Ʋnbleſt: if I am not Faſt, I'me Looſe, vntye the Heauens and take away their Zones, we ſhould haue braue Skie-falling. Geog. I, and braue Larke-catching, (prettie Bird) ah! were they all ſuch as Thee, it ſhould bee my Firſt wiſh.