Neptune's Triumph for the Return of Albion · chunk 1 of 4
Jonson, Ben · published 1624 · first performed or written 1624 [Jan 6 (projected)] (Annals) masque · before the Court T12 Olympian gods: Jupiter, Juno, Venus and typicality 0.75 · 579 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T12: iupiter, saturn, iuno, venus, gods, mars, earth, titan, love, fair.
Then, Brother Poet, Brother. I have a suit. What is it? Your device. As you came in upon me, I was then Offering the argument, and this it is. Silence. The mighty Neptune, mighty in his styles, And large command of waters, and of Isles, Not, as the Lord and Sovereign of the Seas, But, Chief in the art of riding, late did please To send his Albion forth, the most his own, Upon discovery, to themselves best known, Through Celtiberia; and, to assist his course, Gave him his powerful e MANAGER of Horse, With divine Proteus, Father of disguise, To wait upon them with his counsels wise, In all extremes. His great commands being done, And he desirous to review his Son, He doth dispatch a floating I'll, from hence, Unto the Hesperian shores, to waft him thence. Where, what the arts were, used to make him stay, And how the Syrens wooed him, by the way, What Monsters he encountered on the coast, How near our general joy was to be lost, Is not our subject now: though all these make The present gladness greater, for their sake. But what the triumphs are, the feast, the sport, And proud solemnities of Neptune's Court, Now he is safe, and Fame's not heard in vain, But we behold our happy pledge again. That with him, loyal HIPPIUS is returned, Who for it, under so much envy, burned With his own brightness, till her starved snakes saw What Neptune did impose, to him was law. But, why not this, till now? It was not time, To mix this Music with the vulgars' chime. Stay, till th'abortive, and extemporal din Of balladry, were understood a sin, Minerva cried: that, what tumultuous verse, Or prose could make, or steal, they might rehearse, And every Songster had sung out his fit; That all the Country, and the city-wit, Of bells, and bonfires, and good cheer was spent, And Neptune's Guard had drunk all that they meant; That all the tales and stories now were old Of the Sea-Monster Archy, or grown cold: The Muses then might venture, undeterred, For they love, then, to sing, when they are heard. I like it well, 'tis handsome: And I have Some thing would fit this. How do you present 'em? In a fine Island, say you? Yes, a f Delos: Such, as when fair Latena fell in travail, Great Neptune made emergent. I conceive you. I would have had your I'll brought floating in, now In a brave broth, and of a sprightly green, Just to the colour of the Sea; and then, Some twenty Syrens, singing in the kettle, With an Arion, mounted on the back Of a grown Conger, but in such a posture, As, all the world should take him for a Dolphin: O, 'twould ha' made such music! Ha' you nothing, But a bare Island? Yes, we have a tree too, Which we do call the Tree of Harmony, And is the same with g what we read, the Sun Brought forth in the Indian Musicana first, And thus it grows. The goodly bowl, being got To certain cubits height, from every side The boughs decline, which taking root afresh, Spring up new boles, & those spring new, & newer, Till the whole tree become a Porticus, Or arched Arbour, able to receive A numerous troop, such as our Albion, And the Companions of his journey are. And this they sit in
seed 43: T53 · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Then, Brother Poet, Brother. I haue a suite. What is it? Your deuise. As you came in vpon me, I was then Offring the argument, and this it is. Silence. The mightie Neptune, mightie in his styles, And large command of waters, and of Isles, Not, as the Lord and Soueraigne of the Seas, But, Chiefe in the art of riding, late did please To send his Albion forth, the most his owne, Vpon discouery, to themselues best knowne, Through Celtiberia; and, to assist his course, Gaue him his powerfull MANAGER of Horse, With diuine Proteus, Father of disguise, To waite vpon them with his counsels wise, In all extremes. His great commands being done, And he desirous to review his Sonne, He doth dispatch a floting Ile, from hence, Vnto the Hesperian shores, to waft him thence. Where, what the arts were, vsde to make him stay, And how the Syrens woo'd him, by the way, What Monsters he encountred on the coast, How neare our generall Ioy was to be lost, Is not our subiect now: though all these make The present gladnesse greater, for their sake. But what the triumphs are, the feast, the sport, And proud solemnities of Neptunes Court, Now he is safe, and Fame's not heard in vaine, But we behold our happie pledge againe. That with him, loyall HIPPIVS is returnd, Who for it, vnder so much envie, burnd With his owne brightnes, till her steru'd snakes saw What Neptune did impose, to him was law. But, why not this, till now? —It was not time, To mixe this Musick with the vulgars chime. Stay, till th'abortiue, and extemporall dinne Of balladry, were vnderstood a sinne, Minerua cry'd: that, what tumultuous verse, Or prose could make, or steale, they might reherse, And euery Songster had sung out his fit; That all the Countrey, and the Citie-wit, Of bels, and bonfires, and good cheere was spent, And Neptunes Guard had drunk al that they meant; That all the tales and stories now were old Of the Sea-Monster Archy, or growne cold: The Muses then might venter, vndeterr'd, For they loue, then, to sing, when they are heard. I like it well, tis handsome: And I haue Some thing wold fit this. How do you present 'hem? In a fine Iland, say you? Yes, a Delus: Such, as when faire Latena fell in trauaile, Great Neptune made emergent. I cone you. I would haue had your Ile brought oting in, now In a braue broth, and of a sprightly greene, Iust to the colour of the Sea; and then, Some twentie Syrens, singing in the kettel, With an Arion, mounted on the backe Of a growne Conger, but in such a posture, As, all the world should take him for a Dolphin: O, 'twould ha' made such musick! Ha' you nothing, But a bare Island? Yes, we haue a tree too, Which we do call the Tree of Harmonie, And is the same with what we read, the Sunne Brought forth in the Indian Musicana first, And thus it growes. The goodly bole, being got To certaine cubits height, from euery side The boughs decline, which taking roote afresh, Spring vp new boles, & those spring new, & newer, Till the whole tree become a Porticus, Or arched Arbour, able to receiue A numerous troupe, such as our Albion, And the Companions of his iourney are. And this they sit in