The Fortunate Isles and Their Union · chunk 4 of 6
Jonson, Ben · published 1641 · first performed or written 1625 [Jan 9] (Annals) masque · before the Court unassigned nearest T9 Theatre talk: prologues, poets and playe · 482 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T9: play, stage, poet, prologue, author, wit, plays, muse, scene, players.
Seemeth we are called of a moral intent, If the words that are spoken, as well now be meant. That Mr. Skogan I dare you ensure. Than, Son, our acquaintance is like to endure. A pretty game! like Cram. Mr. Skogan, Give me thy hand: Thou'rt very lean, me thinks, Is't living by thy wits? If it had been that, My worshipful Son, thou hadst ne'er been so fat. He tells you true Sir. Here's a Gentleman (My pair of crafty Clerks) of that high carat, As hardly hath the age produced his like. Who not content with the wit of his own times, Is curious to know yours, and what hath been, Or is, or shall be. Note his Latitude! O, vir amplissimus! (Ut scholis dicimus) Et gentilissimus! The question- issimus Is, should he ask a sight now, for his life; I mean, a person, he would have restored, To memory of these times, for a Playfellow, Whether you would present him, with an Hermes, Or, with an Howl-glass? An Owlglass To come, to pass On his Father's Ass; There never was, By day, nor night, A finer sight. With feathers upright In his horned cap, And crooked shape, Much like an Ape. With Owl on fist, And Glass at his wrist. Except the four Knaves entertained for the guards, Of the Kings, and the Queens that triumph in the cards. I, that were a sight and a half, I confess, To see 'em come skipping in, all at a mess! With Elinor Rumming. To make up the mumming, That comely Gill, That dwelled on a hill, But she is not grill: Her face all bowsie, Droopy, and drowsy, Scurvy, and lousy, Comely crinkled, Wondrously wrinkled, Like a roast pigs ear, Bristled with hair. Or, what do you say to Ruffian Fitz-Ale? An excellent sight, if he be not to stolen. But than, we can mix him with modern Vapours, The Child of Tobacco, his pipes, and his papers. You talked of Elinor Rumming, I had rather See Ellen of Troy. Her you shall see. But credit me, That Marie Ambree (Who marched so free. To the siege of Gaunt, And death could not daunt, As the Ballad doth vaunt) Were a braver wight, And a better sight. Or Westminster Meg, With her long leg, As long as a Crane; And feet like a plane: With a pair of heels, As broad as two wheels; To drive down the dew, As she goes to the stew: And turns home merry, By Lambeth Ferry. Or you may have come In, Thomas Thumb, In a pudding fat With Doctor Rat. I, that! that! that! we'll have'em all, To fill the Hall. What! are they vanished! where is skipping Skelton? Or moral Skogan? I do like their show And would have thankt'em, being the first grace The Company of the Rosy-crosse hath done me.
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)
Seemeth we are call'd of a morall intent, If the words that are ſpoken, as well now be meant. That Mr. Skogan I dare you enſure. Then, Sonne, our acquaintance is like to indure. A pretty game! like Crambe. Mr. Skogan, Give me thy hand: Thou'rt very leane, me thinks, Is't living by thy wits? If it had beene that, My worſhipfull Sonne, thou hadſt ne're bin ſo fat. He tels you true Sir. Here's a Gentleman (My paire of crafty Clerkes) of that high caract, As hardly hath the age produc't his like. Who not content with the wit of his owne times, Is curious to know yours, and what hath beene, Or is, or ſhall be. Note his Latitude! O, vir ampliſsimus! (Ut ſcholis dicimus) Et gentiliſsimus! The queſtion-iſsimus Is, ſhould he aske a ſight now, for his life; I meane, a perſon, he would have reſtor'd, To memorie of theſe times, for a Play-fellow, Whether you would preſent him, with an Hermes, Or, with an Howle-glas? An Howleglaſſe To come, to paſſe On his Fathers Aſſe; There never was, By day, nor night, A finer ſight. With feathers upright In his horned cap, And crooked ſhape, Much like an Ape. With Owle on fiſt, And Glaſſe at his wriſt. Except the foure Knaves entertain'd for the guards, Of the Kings, and the Queenes that triumph in the cards. I, that were a ſight and a halfe, I confeſſe, To ſee 'hem come skipping in, all at a meſſe! With Elinor Rumming. To make up the mumming, That comely Gill, That dwelt on a hill, But ſhe is not grill: Her face all bowſie, Droopie, and drowſie, Scurvy, and lowſie, Comely crinkled, Wondrouſly wrinkled, Like a roſt pigs eare, Briſtled with haire. Or, what doe you ſay to Ruffian Fitz-Ale? An excellent ſight, if he be not to ſtale. But then, we can mix him with moderne Vapors, The Child of Tobacco, his pipes, and his papers. You talk'd of Elinor Rumming, I had rather See Ellen of Troy. Her you ſhall ſee. But credit mee, That Marie Ambree (Who march'd ſo free. To the ſiege of Gaunt, And death could not daunt, As the Ballad doth vaunt) Were a braver wight, And a better ſight. Or Weſtminſter Meg, With her long leg, As long as a Crane; And feet like a plane: With a paire of heeles, As broad as two wheeles; To drive downe the dew, As ſhe goes to the ſtew: And turnes home merry, By Lambeth Ferry. Or you may have come In, Thomas Thumbe, In a pudding fatt With Doctor Ratt. I, that! that! that! Wee'll have'em all, To fill the Hall. What! are they vaniſh'd! where is skipping Skelton? Or morall Skogan? I doe like their ſhew And would have thankt'em, being the firſt grace The Company of the Roſie-Croſſe hath done me.