Davenant, William · published 1629 · first performed or written 1628 [1626-1629] (Annals) tragedy · Unacted unassigned nearest T62 The courtier as a type: fashion, affecta · 517 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T62: courtier, shrug, face, court, italian, monsieur, scholar, fashion, french, courtiers.
I've heard you have transported from Paris The Geometrical cringe, and the Art Of numbering the hairs upon your chins. And of starching your Beards. Yes, and of perfuming your very shadows. And they say, it is your custom to sleep In Pomatum Masques. And that you paint your pretty Physiognomies. Yes, and colour them so red, that you seem To blush more, than the Sign of the king's head Before a Country Inn. Y'abuse Astrology too; for you clip Black-Taffeta into Stars; and for a foil To your beauty; fix 'em in several Regions Of your face. Which makes it look, like the picture of Doomsday; When all the Planets are darkened. Nay, nay, stay awhile! Leave off your jigging motion, when you mix yourselves in a salute; your bodies seem To dance upon your knees. You pinion up Your Elbows thus:— like pullet's trust upon A spit. Then wreath your hams in thus; and move With a discreet leisure, as if you meant To number all the Pebbles in the street. And than you fleer, as if y' had washed your gums In vinegar. This you admire for gesture Of the newest fashion. I say, 'tis scurvy! For he that greets a Lady so, does look Like a Soap-boiler, upon a close-stool. If you will take Physic for your souls-health, Retire into that part of the Kingdom Which lies farthest from France. He counsel well: for the French air hath made Many of our Gentry drunk. And now move hence; but with your lips sowed up, For fear of a compliment. You two shall strait Take horse with me, and be billeted in My Quarter. Stay, Gentlemen! One word more! This is a hot Climate: when you must needs Marry to increase your Tribe, your best way Is to go a-wooing in the City: For certain rich widows there, love Court-fools; And use to play with their babbles. To make him bleed, and leave his arteries (Where the delighted spirits walk) shrunk up, Until they curl with heat. The withered frame strait to convert to dust. Then th' numerous wind, To fan it o'er the world. Speak, just Heaven! Is this fit usage for a King? Cassius Was rash: perhaps to gain noise at's funeral; Or in 's Elysian fields; beneath a pleasant Hedge To tell some prattling ghost what he had done— Hah! but Brutus, noble Brutus! the pride Of Arts and War: so temperate, his soul Was more harmonious than the Spheres. Instruct (Heroic Lord) thy young Pupil! Why did The mighty Cesar fall, by thy cold wrath? All silent as the night! He sleeps: before Him too, those papers that concern my house Affairs; and my Official rule in State. Here he comments on my Letters! here with Thrifty documents limits my expense. Can this indulgent care be counterfeit? And merely carry a pretence of love? he made My wife a black adulteress. O horror! Yet who knows, but 'twas rather his revenge, Than lust; a furious riot, after that He knew I whored his Queen— Sir! My Lord the King! Sir!
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)
I'ue heard you haue tranſported from Paris The Geometricall cringe, and the Art Of numbring the haires vpon your chins. And of ſtarching your Beards. Yes, and of perfuming your very ſhadowes. And they ſay, it is your cuſtome to ſleepe In Pomatum Maſques. And that you paint your prety Vis'gnomies. Yes, and colour them ſo red, that you ſeeme To bluſh more, then the Signe of the Kings head Before a Country Inne. Y'abuſe Aſtrology too; for you clip Black-Taffeta into Starres; and for a foile To your beauty; fix 'em in ſeuerall Regions Of your face. Which makes it look, like the picture of Doomes-day; When all the Planets are darkened. Nay, nay, ſtay awhile! Leaue off your ijgging motion, when you mix Your ſelues in a ſalute; your bodyes ſeeme To dance vpon your knees. You pinion vp Your Elbowes thus:—like Pullets truſt vpon A ſpit. Then wreath your Hammes in thus; and mooue With a diſcreet leaſure, as if you meant To number all the Pibbles in the ſtreet. And then you fleere, as if y' had waſh'd your gummes In vineger. This you admire for geſture Of the neweſt faſhion. I ſay, 'tis skiruy! For he that greets a Lady ſo, does looke Like a Sope-boyler, vpon a Cloſe-ſtoole. If you will take Phyſicke for your ſoules-health, Retire into that part of the Kingdome Which lies fartheſt from France. He counſels well: for the French ayre hath made Many of our Gentry drunke. And now moue hence; but with your lips ſow'd vp, For feare of a complement. You two ſhall ſtraite Take horſe with me, and be billited in My Quarter. Stay, Gentlemen! One word more! This is a hot Climate: when you muſt needs Marry to increaſe your Tribe, your beſt way Is to goe a wooing in the Citie: For certaine rich widdowes there, loue Court-fooles; And vſe to play with their bables. To make him bleed, and leaue his arteries (VVhere the delighted ſpirits walke) ſhrunke vp, Vntill they curle with heate. The wither'd frame Straite to conuert to duſt. Then th' vmerous winde, To fan it o're the world. Speake, iuſt Heauen! Is this fit vſage for a King? Caſsius VVas raſh: perhaps to gaine noiſe at's funerall; Or in 's Elizian fields; beneath a pleaſant Hedge To tell ſome prattling ghoſt what he had done— Hah! but Brutus, noble Brutus! the pride Of Arts and VVarre: ſo temperate, his ſoule VVas more harmonious then the Spheares. Inſtruct (Heroique Lord) thy young Pupill! VVhy did The mighty Ceſar fall, by thy cold wrath? All ſilent as the night! He ſleepes: before Him too, thoſe papers that concerne my houſe Affaires; and my Officiall rule in State. Here he comments on my Letters! here with Thrifty documents limits my expence. Can this indulgent care be counterfeit? And meerely carry a pretence of loue? he made My wife a blacke adultereſſe. O horror! Yet who knowes, but 'twas rather his reuenge, Then luſt; a furious riot, after that He knew I whor'd his Queene— Sir! My Lord the King! Sir!