Aristippus, or The Jovial Philosopher · chunk 11 of 18
Randolph, Thomas · published 1630 · first performed or written 1626 [1625-1626] (Annals) entertainment; academic entertainment T44 Drinking: wine, ale and taverns typicality 0.75 · 522 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T44: drink, wine, numps, ale, butler, pot, sing, moy, drunk, win.
Why meet him Tutor? you may easily meet him. I know him Sir, & cognition distinctâ & confusâ I warrant you, do you not smell him Tutor? I know who made this Almanac against drinking Sack? ha Stroffe? have I found you Stroffe? you will show yourself, I see, when all is done, to be but a brewer's clerk. But far better speaks the divine Ennius against your Ale, and Barleybroth, who knew too full well the virtue of Sack, when Nunquam uisi potus ad arma prosiluit dicenda; his verses are in Latin, but because the audience are Scholars, I have translated them into English, that they may be understood. Here read them. There is a drink made of the Stygian Lake, Or else of the waters the furies do make, No name there is bad enough by which it to call, But yet as I wist, it is cleped Ale; Men drink it thick, and piss it out thin. Mickle filth by Saint Loy that it leaves within, But I of complexion am wondrous sanguine, And will love by th' Morrow a cup of wine, To live in delight was ever my wonne, For I was Epicurus his own son, That held opinion that plainly delight Was very felicity perfect: A Bowl of wine is wondrous boon cheer To make one blithe, buxom and debonaire, 'Twill give me such valour and so much courage, As cannot be found twixt Hull and Carthage. But above the wit of humanity, the divine Virgil hath extolled the Encomium of Sack in these verses. Fill me a Bowl of Sack with Roses crowned, Filled to the brim, I'll have my temples bound With flowery Chaplets, and this day permit My Genius to be free, and frolic it; Let me drink deep, then fully warmed with wine, Ill' chant Aeneas praise, that every line Shall prove immortal, till my moistened quill Melt into verse; and Nectar-like distil; I'm sad, or dull, till bowls brim filled infuse New life in me, new spirit in my Muse, But once revived with Sack, pleasing desires In my childhood kindle such Active fires, That my grey hairs seem fled, my wrinkled face, Grown smooth as Hebe's, youth, and beauty's grace, To my shrunk veins, fresh blood and spirits bring, Warm as the Summer, sprightful as the spring, Than all the world is mine: Croesus is poor Compared with me, he is rich that asks no more: And I in Sack have all, which is to me My home, my life, health, wealth, and liberty, Then have I conquered all, I boldly dare My Trophies with the Pelcan youth compare, Him I will equal, as his sword, my pen My conquered world of cares, his world of men, Do not, Atrides, Nestor's ten desire But ten such drinkers as that aged sire, His stream of honeyed words flowed from the Wine, And Sack his Counsel was, as he was thine. whoever purchased a rich Indian mine, But Bacchus first, and next the Spanish wine? Then fill my bowl, that if I die tomorrow, Killing cares today, I have outlived my sorrow.
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)
Why meet him Tutor? you may easily meet him. I know him Sir, & cognitione distinctâ & confuâ I warrant you, doe you not smell him Tutor? I know who made this Almanack against drinking Sacke? ha Stroffe? haue I found you Stroffe? you will shew your selfe, I see, when all is done, to be but a Brewers Clarke. But farre better speaks the diuine Ennius against your Ale, and Barly-broth, who knew too full well the vertue of Sacke, when Nunquam isi potus ad arma prosiluit dicenda; his verses are in Latine, but because the audience are Schollers, I haue translated them into English, that they may be vnderstood. Heere read them. There is a drinke made of the Stygian Lake, Or else of the waters the suries doe make, No name there is bad enough by which it to call, But yet as I wist, it is ycleped▪ Ale; Men drinke it thicke, and pisse it out thinne. Mickle filth by Saint Loy that it leaues witin, But I of complection am wondrous sanguine, And will loue by th' Morrow a cup of wine, To liue in delight was euer my wonne, For I was Epicurus his owne sonne, That held opinion that plainely delight Was very felicity perfite: A Bowle of wine is wondrous boone cheere To make one blyth, buxome and deboneere, 'Twill giue me such valour and so much courage, As cannot be found 'twixt Hull and Carthage. But aboue the wit of humanity, the diuine Virgil hath extol'd the Encomium of Sacke in these verses. Fill me a Bowle of Sacke with Roses crown'd, Fill't to the brim, I'll haue my temples bound With flowry Chaplets, and this day permit My Genius to be free, and frolique it; Let me drinke deepe, then fully warm'd with wine, Ill' chaunt Aeneas praise, that euery line Shall prooue immortall, till my moistned quill Melt into verse; and Nectar-like distill; I'm sad, or dull, till bowles brim fil'd infuse New life in me, new spirit in my Muse, But once reuiu'd with Sacke, pleasing desires In my childhood kindle such Actiue fires, That my gray hayres seeme fled, my wrinckl'd face, Growne smooth as Hebes, youth, and beauties grace, To my shrunke veines, fresh blood and spirits bring, Warme as the Summer, sprightfull as the spring, Then all the world is mine: Croesus is poore Compar'd with me, he is rich that askes no more: And I in Sacke haue all, which is to me My home, my life, health, wealth, and liberty, Then haue I conquer'd all, I boldly dare My Trophies with the Pelcan youth compare, Him I will equall, as his sword, my pen My conquer'd world of cares, his world of men, Doe not, Atrides, Nestors ten desire But ten such drinkers as that aged sire, His streame of hoyed words flowed from the Wine, And Sack his Counsell was, as hee was thine. Who ur purchast a rich Indiaen mine, But Bacchus first, and next the Spanish wine? Then fill my bowle, that if I dye to morrow, Killing cares to day, I haue out-liu'd my sorrow.