Time Vindicated to Himself and to His Honors · chunk 1 of 6
Jonson, Ben · published 1641 · first performed or written 1623 [Jan 19] (Annals) masque · before the Court unassigned nearest T12 Olympian gods: Jupiter, Juno, Venus and · 501 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T12: iupiter, saturn, iuno, venus, gods, mars, earth, titan, love, fair.
GIve ear, the worthy, hear what Fame proclaims. What? what? Is't worth our ears? Or eyes? Or noses? For we are curious, Fame: indeed, the Curious. We come to spy. And harken. And smell out. Moore than you understand, my hot Inquisitors, We cannot tell. It may be. However, go you on, let us alone. We may spy out, that, which you never meant. And nose the thing you sent not. First, whence come you? I came from Saturn. Saturn, what is he? Some Protestant I warrant you, a Time-server, As Fame herself is. You are near the right. Indeed, he is Time itself, and his name KRONOS, How! Saturn! Chronos! and the Time itself! You're found: enough. A notable old Pagan! One of their Gods, and eats up his own children. A Fencer, and does travel with a sigh Instead of a longsword. Hath been often called from it, To be their Lord of misrule. As Cincinnatus Was from the plough, to be Dictator. Yes. We need no interpreter, on, what of Time? The Time hath sent me with my Trump to summon All sorts of persons worthy, to the view Of some great spectacle he means to night, T'exhibite; and with all solemnity. O, we shall have his Saturnalia. His days of feast, and liberty again. Where men might do, and talk all that they list. Slaves of their lords. The servants of their masters! And subjects of their Sovereign. Not so lavish. It was a brave time that! This will be better: I spy it coming, peace. All the impostures, The prodigies, diseases, and distempers, The knaveries of the Time, we shall see all now. And hear the passages, and several humours Of men, as they are swayed by their affections: Some grumbling, and some mutining, some scoffing, Some pleased, some pining, at all these we laughing. I have it here, here, strong, the sweat of it, And the confusion (which I love) I nose it, It tickles me. My four eyes itch for it. And my ears tingle, would it would come forth: This room will not receive it. That's the fear. What? what? my friends, will not this room receive? That which the Time is presently to show us. The Time? Lo I the man, that hate the time That is, that love it not; and (though in rhyme, I here do speak it) with this whip you see, Do lash the Time, and am myself lash-free. Who's this? 'Tis Chronomastix, the brave Satire, The gentlemanlike Satire, cares for no body, His forehead tiped with bays, do you not know him? Yes Fame must know him, all the Town admires him. If you would see Time quake and shake, but name us, It is for that, we are both beloved, and famous. We know, Sir. But the Time's now come about. And promiseth all liberty. Nay licence. We shall do what we list. Talk what we list. And censure whom we list, and how we list.
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)
GIve eare, the worthy, heare what Fame proclaimes. What? what? I'ſt worth our eares? Or eyes? Or noſes? For we are curious, Fame: indeed, the Curious. We come to ſpie. And hearken. And ſmell out. More than you underſtand, my hot Inquiſitors, We cannot tell. It may be. However, goe you on, let us alone. We may ſpie out, that, which you never mean't. And noſe the thing you ſent not. Firſt, whence come you? I came from Saturne. Saturne, what is he? Some Proteſtant I warrant you, a Time-ſerver, As Fame her ſelfe is. You are neere the right. Indeed, he is Time it ſelfe, and his name KRONOS, How! Saturne! Chronos! and the Time it ſelfe! You're found: inough. A notable old Pagan! One of their Gods, and eaes up his owne children. A Fencer, and do's travell with a ſith Inſtead of a long-ſword. Hath beene oft call'd from it, To be their Lord of miſrule. As Cincinnatus Was from the plough, to be Dictator. Yes. We need no interpreter, on, what of Time? The Time hath ſent me with my Trumpe to ſummon All ſorts of perſons worthy, to the view Of ſome great ſpectacle he meanes to night, T'exhibite; and with all ſolemnitie. O, we ſhall have his Saturnalia. His dayes of feaſt, and libertie agen. Where men might doe, and talke all that they liſt. Slaves of their lords. The ſervants of their maſters! And ſubjects of their Soveraigne. Not ſo laviſh. It was a brave time that! This will be better: I ſpie it comming, peace. All the impoſtures, The prodigies, diſeaſes, and diſtempers, The knaveries of the Time, we ſhall ſee all now. And heare the paſſages, and ſeverall humors Of men, as they are ſwayd by their affections: Some grumbling, and ſome mutining, ſome ſcoffing, Some pleas'd, ſome pyning, at all theſe we laughing. I have it here, here, ſtrong, the ſweat of it, And the confuſion (which I love) I noſe it, It tickles mee. My foure eies itch for it. And my eares tingle, would it would come forth: This roome will not receive it. That's the feare. What? what? my friends, will not this roome receive? That which the Time is preſently to ſhew us. The Time? Lo I the man, that hate the time That is, that love it not; and (though in ryme, I here doe ſpeake it) with this whipp you ſee, Doe laſh the Time, and am myſelfe laſh-free. Who's this? 'Tis Chronomaſtix, the brave Satyre, The gentleman-like Satyre, cares for no body, His fore-head tip't with bayes, doe you not know him? Yes Fame muſt know him, all the Town admires him. If you would ſee Time quake and ſhake, but name us, It is for that, we are both belov'd, and famous. We know, Sir. But the Time's now come about. And promiſeth all libertie. Nay licence. We ſhall doe what we liſt. Talke what we liſt. And cenſure whom we liſt, and how we liſt.