Jonson, Ben · published 1631 · first performed or written 1629 [licensed for stage, Jan 19] (Annals) comedy · King's Men unassigned nearest T20 Hercules: labours, suffering and virtue · 494 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T20: hercules, hercles, ioue, deianeira, alcides, hand, lo, death, skies, hell.
Don Lewis of Madrid, is the sole Master Now, of the world. But this, o' the other world Euclid demonstrates! he! he's for all! The only fencer of name, now in Elysium. He does it all, by lines, and angles, Colonel. By parallels, and sections, has his diagrams! Wilt thou be flying, Fly? At all, why not? The air's as free for a fly, as for an Eagle. A Buzzard! he is in his contemplation! Euclid a fencer, and in the Elysium! He played a prize, last week, with Archimedes, And beat him I assure you. Do you assure me? For what? For four i'the hundred. Gi'me five, And I assure you, again. Host, Peremptory, You may be ta'en, But where? whence had you this? upo' the road, A post, that came from thence, Three days ago, here, left it with the Tapster. Who is indeed a thorough fare of news, Iack jug with the broken belly, a witty fellow! Your Bird here heard him. Did you hear him Bird? Speak i'the faith of a fly. Yes, and he told us, Of one that was the Prince of Orange's fencer, Stevinus? Sir the same, had challenged Euclid A thirty weapons more than Archimedes e'er saw; and engines: most of his own Invention: This may have credit, and chimes reason, this! If any man endanger Euclid, Bird, Observe, that had the honour to quit Europe This forty year, 'tis he. He put down Scaliger. And he was a great Master. Not of fence, Fly. Excuse him, Lord, he went o' the same grounds. On the same earth I think, with other Mortals? I mean, sweet Lord, the Mathematics. Basta! When thou know'st more, thou wilt take less, green honour. He had his circles, semicircles, quadrants— He writ a book o' the quadrature o' the Circle, Cyclometria, I read— The title only. And Indice. If it had one of that quare What insolent, half-witted things, these are? So are all smatterers, insolent, and impudent. They lightly go together. 'tis my wonder! Two animals should hawk at all discourse thus! Fly every subject to the Mark, or retrieve— And never ha' the luck to be i'the right! 'tis foam folks' fortune! Fortune's a Bawd And a blind Beggar: 'tis their vanity! And shows most vilely! I could take the heart now. To write unto Don Lewis, into Spain, To make a progress to the Elysian fields, Next summer— And persuade him die for same, Of fencing with a shadow! Where's mine Host? I would he had heard this bubble break, i'fayth. Make place, stand by, for the Queen Regent, Gentlemen. This is thy Queen, that shallbe, Bird, our Sovereign. Translated Prudence! Sweet my Lord, hand off; It is not now, as when plain Prudence lived, And reached her Ladyship— The Chamber-pot. The looking-glass, mine Host, lose your house You have a negligent memory, indeed; Speak the host's language. Here's a young Lord, Will make't a precedent else.
seed 43: T58 · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Don Lewis of Madrid, is the sole Master Now, of the world. But this, o' the other world Euclide demonstrates! he! Hee's for all! The only fencer of name, now in Elysium. He do's it all, by lines, and angles, Colonel. By parallels, and sections, has his Diagrammes! Wilt thou be flying, Fly? At all, why not? The ayre's as free for a fly, as for an Eagle. A Buzzard! he is in his contemplation! Euclide a fencer, and in the Elysium! He play'd a prize, last weeke, with Archimedes, And beate him I assure you. Doe you assure me? For what? For foure i'the hundred. Gi'me fiue, And I assure you, againe. Host, Peremptory, You may be tane, But where? whence ad you this? Vpo' the road, A post, that came from thence, Three dayes agoe, here, left it with the Tapster. Who is indeede a thorough fare ofnewes, Iack Ig with the broken belly, a witty fellow! Your Bird here heard him. Did you heare him Bird? Speake i'the faith of a flie. Yes, and he told vs, Of one that was the Prince of Oranges fencer, Steuinus? Sir the same, had challeng'd Euclide A thirty weapons more then Archimedes Ere saw; and engines: most of his owne Inuention: This may haue credit, and chimes reason, this! If any man endanger Euclide, Bird, Obserue, that had the honor to quit Europe This forty yeare, tis he. He put downe Scaliger. And he was a great Master. Not of fence, Fly. Excuse him, Lord, he went o' the same grounds. On the same earth I thinke, with other Mortals? I meane, sweete Lord, the Mathematiques. Basta! When thou know'st more, thou wilt take lesse, greene honor. He had his circles, semicircles, quadrants— He writ a booke o' the quadrature o' the Circle, Cyclometria, I read— The title onely. And Indice. If it had one of that quare What insolent, halfe-witted things, these are? So are all smatterers, insolent, and impudent. They lightly go together. T'is my wonder! Two animals should hawke at all discourse thus! Flie euery subiect to the Marke, or retriue— And neuer ha' the lucke to be i'the right! T'is fome folkes fortune! Fortune's a Bad And a blind Begger: 'tis their vanity! And shewes most vilely! I could take the heart now. To write vnto Don Lewis, into Spaine, To make a progresse to the Elysian fields, Next summer— And perswade him die for same, Of fencing with a shadow! Where's mine Host? I would he had heard this buble breake, i'fayth. Make place, stand by, for the Queene Regent, Gentlemen. This is thy Queen, that shalbe, Bird, our Soueraign. Translated Prudence! Sweet my Lord, hand off; It is not now, as when plaine Prudence liu'd, And reach'd her Ladiship— The Chamber-pot. The looking-glasse, mine Host, loose your hous Metaph You' haue a negligent memory, indeed; Speake the host's language. Here's a yong Lord, Will make't a precedent else.