Davenant, William · published 1630 · first performed or written 1627 [licensed for stage, Jan 12] (Annals) tragedy · King's Men · Blackfriars unassigned nearest T35 Fools, wit and railing · 478 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T35: fool, wit, aristippus, achilles, wise, fools, patroclus, thersites, master, men.
Yet had he lived, when the old Sibyl, Presented her divine Manuscripts, to The dull Roman; he would have scolded with her, Unless his Pamphlets had attained the first Acceptance. True, for every Poet thinks himself The best Poet in the world. And that satire not the worst; wherein He chides Women, for wearing their half-ruffs, Which pinned behind trans situates the face, Or makes'em look, like Ianus with two faces. A just exception: for going hastily To kiss his whore; he could not find her Mouth. Why sure her breath was strong enough To direct him to it. Yet I have heard nothing, but what deserves More pity, than anger. Now when he hath provided some high toy For the Press; he thinks on dedication, straight chooseth one of the faction; who must Not Patronize, but buy what he makes vendable, With praise in the Epistle. Can you deny this Cousen Satirist? And nothing makes Learning so cheap; but that Every writer sells his works. Nay let's follow; and worry him to pieces. Our ruin is contrived above. If our Master prove unkind, the Planets Govern ill: For our gratitude, and care, Deserves more constancy. Looks he so strangely on ye? As if the object were but new to him. And his own heart unsettled in his breast. Is his violence so soon tired? survey The Register of your own deeds. Speak Sir, Have you so engrossed his ears, as if their Organ, were yours, not his. Confined 'em to Your own tongue: and so deprived the sorrowful, The grieved in heart, of an easy audience? never. Since you have shared the Duke's prerogative, And by his love, held opposition. At such great advantage. did you e'er slight With cheap regard, those of high, and Noble birth? My soul abhors such tyranny. Have those who wear th'eternals Livery Bought their wages of ye? Or have they found Bold, and skilful flattery, more helps Advancement; then deep and modest Learning? Never, since my distinction was of power, To help its choice. In nice trial, or evidence of Law, Hath Custom (which only gives us hope Of certainty in justice) been traduced By your obscure help? Never. Hath the desolate Widow scared mercy From your eyes, with her old ruined beauty, (For grief was never amorous) or hath The torn Beggar too soon dismissed your charity Because not giddy enough to delight Wantonness. Never. Then if our great Master withdraw his love; The weight of sufferance cannot bruise ye; For the whole world will share i'th' burden. From whom is this sir? From my Lord Marquise de Loretta. I humbly kiss his hand. Now luck flatter me but once, and I am made— 'tis short, pray heaven it be sweet, or I'll ne'er love The Proverb. Sir, have you ever been in service, Under any eminent Commander? Never yet.
seed 43: T16 · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Yet had he liu'd, when the old Sybill, Preſented her diuine Manuſcripts, to The dull Romane; he would haue ſcolded with her, Vnleſſe his Pamphlets had attain'd the firſt Acceptance. True, for euery Poet thinks himſelfe The beſt Poet in the world. And that Satyr not the worſt; wherin He chides Women, for wearing their Halfe-Ruffes, Which pinn'd behin'd trans ſctuates the face, Or makes'em looke, like Ianus with two faces. A iuſt exception: for going haſtily To kiſſe his whore; he could not find her Mouth. Why ſure her breath was ſtrong enough To direct him to it. Yet I haue heard nothing, but what deſerues More pitty, then anger. Now when he hath prouided ſome high toy For the Preſſe; he thinks on ddiction, Strait chooſeth one of the faction; who muſt Not Patronize, but buy what he makes vendable, With praiſe in the Epiſtle. Can you deny this Couſen Satyriſt? And nothing makes Learning ſo cheape; but that Euery writer ſells his works. Nay let's follow; and worry him to peeces. Our ruine is contriu'd aboue. If our Maſter pocue vnkin'd, the Planets Gouerne ill: For our gratitude, and care, Deſerues more conſtancy. Lookes he ſo ſtrangely on yee? As if the obiect were but new to him. And his owne heart vnſetled in his baſt. Is his violence ſo ſoone tir'd? ſuruay The Regiſter of your owne deeds. Speake Sir, Haue you ſo engroſs'd his eares, as if their Organ, were yours, not his. Confin'd 'em to Your owne tongue: and ſo dpriu'd the ſorrowfull, The grieu'd in heart, of an eaſie audience? euer. Since you haue ſhar'd the Dukes prerogatiue, And by his loue, held oppoſition. At ſuch great aduantage. did you e're ſlight With cheape regard, thoſe of high, and Noble birth? My ſoule abhorrs ſuch tyranny. Haue thoſe who weare th'Eternalls Liuery Bought their wages of ye? Or haue they found Bold, and skilfull flattery, more helps Aduacement; then deepe and modeſt Learning? Neuer, ſince my diſtinction was of power, To helpe its choyce. In nice triall, or euidence of Law, Hath Cuſtome (which only giues vs hope Of certainty in Iuſtice) bin traduc'd By your obſcure helpe? Neuer. Hath the deſolate Widow ſcar'd mercy From your eies, with her old ruin'd beauty, (For griefe was neuer amorous) or hath The torne Begger too ſoone diſmiſſed your charitie Becauſe not giddy enough to delight Wantoneſſe. Neuer. Then if our great Maſter withdraw his loue; The weight of ſufferance cannot bruiſe ye; For the whole world will ſhare i'th burden. From whom is this ſir? From my Lord Marquiſe de Loretta. I humbly kiſſe his hand. Now luck flatter me but once, and I am made— Tis ſhort, pray heauen it be ſweete, or I'le nere loue The Prouerb. Sir, haue you euer bin in ſeruice, Vnder any eminent Commander? Neuer yet.