Hawkins, William · published 1627 · first performed or written 1627 [Feb 6] (Annals) comedy unassigned nearest T24 Apollo, Phoebus and the Muses · 522 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T24: apollo, phoebus, midas, muses, ears, play, hedone, gods, siren, time.
O'my life, this is no English. My Mother never spoke it. I proclaim to all of my sex, they have leave to depart. I'd rather spin at home, then hear these Barbarians spout Latin, Unless we had some kind scholar to tell us what they say. What a foppery is this, that we must laugh for company, and then ask what we laugh at. Ignorant suspicious soul, be content, I will be thine Interpreter. If you do not interpret to me, I'll make you plum the play, you shan't be able to go on your part. Then so. Now 'gins the fair dew dabbling blushing morn To open to the earth heavens Eastern gate, Displaying by degrees the new borne light. The stars have traced their dance, and unto night Now bid good night. The young day's sentinel the morning star Now drives before him all his glittering flock, And bids them rest within the fold Till with his whistle Hesper call them forth. Now Titan up and ready calls aloud, And bids the rolling hours bestir them quick And harness up his prancing foaming steeds To hurry out the sun's bright Chariot. O now I hear their trampling feet approach: Now now I see that glorious lamp to dart His nearer beams, and all bepaint with gold The over peeping tops of highest hills. Trust you upon your word? Did not you promise to interpret? here's linsey-woolsey fustian, where every English thread is overcast with a thick woollen woof of strange words, which have so deep a nap, that the plain ground cannot be seen. I pray you what have you said all this while? I have said but one word, Lucescit, It is morning. And could you not have told me that in one word, by bidding me good morrow? I give no morrow unto thee, but to the Muses, and myself. I have as good part it h day light, as the best mincing Muse o' them all. Welcome fair light, most welcome unto me, When these thy beams reflect upon my book. Now I understand you better. I hope he'll mend. O how it joys my watchful eyes and heart, To crop the first fruits of the virgin morn. Crop the first fruits of Virgins? I'll take heed of him. And spend that precious stock of common light Upon this author's lines, and such bookware. The morning is the Muses gainest friend. Surely this scholar loves to come first to school. O how my blood doth warmly sweetly thrill, My senses lulled, my heart enwrapped with joy, To see these plains, this fair two-headed hill, Those bowers, these towers, those winding banks, These shady laurels, and that Temple gate The seat, the throne, the nest, the rest, the school Of great Apollo, and his darlings nine. Well, I see now it will be English. It shall go hard but I'll get a part amongst them. I'll into the tiring house, and scamble and wrangle for a man's part. Why should not women act men, as well as boys' act women? I will wear the breeches, so I will.
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)
O'my life, this is no English. My Mother neuer spoke it. I proclaime to all of my sexe, they haue leaue to depart. I'de rather spinne at home, then heare these Barbarians spout Latine, Vnlesse we had some kinde schollar to tell vs what they say. What a foppery is this, that we must laugh for company, and then aske what we laugh at. Ignorant suspicious soule, be content, I will bee thine Interpreter. If you doe not interprete to me, I'le make you plumme the play, you shant be able to goe on your part. Then so. Now gins the faire dew dabling blushing morne To open to the earth heauens Easterne gate, Displaying by degrees the new borne light. The stars haue ac'd their dance, and vnto night Now id good night. The young daies Centinell the morning slarre Now driues before him all his glittering slocke, And bids them rest within the old Till with his whistle Hesper call them forth. Now Titan vp and ready cals aloud, And bids the rowling houres bostie them quicke And harnesse vp his pauncing foaming steeds To hurry out the sunnes bright Charriot. O now I heare their trampling feet approach: Now now I see that glorious lampe to dart His nearer beames, and all bepaint with gold The ouer peeping tops of highest hils. Trust you vpon your word? Did not you promise to interprate? Heer's insey-woolsey ian, where euery English thread is ouer-cast with a thicke len woole of strange words, which haue so deepe a nappe, that the plaine ground cannot be seene. I pray you what haue you said all this while? I haue said but one word, Lucit, t is morning. And could you not haue told mee that in one word, by bidding me good morrow? I giue no morrow vnto thee, but to the Muses, and my selfe. I haue as good part it h day light, as the best ming Muse o' them all. Welcome faire light, most welcome vnto mee, When these thy beames reflect vpon my booke. Now I vnderstand you better. I hope hee mend. O how it ioyes my watchfull eyes and heart, To crop the first fruits of the virgin morne. Crop the first fruits of Virgins▪ I'l take heed of him. And spend that pretious stocke of common light Vpon this Authors lines, and such bookeware. The morning is the Muses gainest friend. Surely this schollar loues to come first to schoole▪ O how my blood doth warmely sweetly thrill, My sences luld, my heart inwrapt with ioy, To see these plaines, this faire two-headed hill, Those bowers, these towers, those winding bankes, These shady laurels, and that Temple gate The seat, the throne, the nest, the rest, the schoole Of great Apollo, and his darlings nine. Well, I see now it will bee English. It shall goe hard but I'le get a part amongst them. I'le into the tyreing house, and scamble and rangle for a man part. Why should not women act men, as well as boyes act women? I will weare the breeches, so I will.