Marmion, Shackerley · published 1632 · first performed or written 1631 [Dec] (Annals) comedy · Prince Charles's Men (second) · Salisbury Court 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.
HOw now Ardelio, what? so melancholy? Faith all this day I have been so employed With setting things in order, and provisions, I can compare my pains to nothing less, Than a Lord Generals. Why what's the matter? Things must be ordered, and there's nothing Done, unless I oversee it; my industry Must marshal the Dishes, put the Stools in rank, See the Wood set upon the carriages, Sharpen the Knives; all these witness my care The very shining of the Candlesticks Acknowledge my directions. 'tis much, The strange activity that some men have To dispatch business. Why Sir, did you never Hear how Apelles pictured Homer spewing, And all the Poets gaping to receive it? Yes, and what then? In the same manner do I, Upon the Hushers, the Clarks, and the Butlers, The Cooks, and other Officers, 'mongst whom I find to be a drought of understanding, Shower down the dregs of my counsel. They are like to be well edified. Here comes my Lord, make room for my Lords grace. GOd save your honour, may your flourishing youth Enjoy an everlasting spring of beauty, And know no Autumn. Thanks good Ardelio: Your wishes have effect, this is the tree, Under whose shadow Flora builds her Bower, And on whose branches, hangs such tempting fruit, Would draw fair Atalanta from her course; An Altar, on which Queens should sacrifice Their scorned loves: Nature will scarce believe It is her own invention, and repines She has no way to be incestuous. Mr. Trimalchio, I am sick to hear him. I can't abide these repetitions, And tedious Encomiums of himself: Let you and I walk a turn in the Garden. You are the only Garden of my delight, And I your dear Adonis, honoured Lady. Ardelio, tell me how this suit becomes me? Exactly well, Sir without controversy, And you wear it as neatly. Nay I have A reasonable good tailor, I hope he has not Surveyed me so long, but he knows my dimensions. I think, I may venture i'th' presence with it. I'th' presence, ay, and love were in the presence, You'd thrust Ganymede out of his office. What think you Gentlemen? We all do wish, Your beauty, or your vanity were less. For by this means, that which would else commend you, Proves your disgrace, you take the edge of praise off, Is due to you, by too much whetting it. I should prove too injurious to myself, Should I pass over, with a slight regard, This building, Nature has solemnised With such Magnificence, to which I owe The loves of Ladies, and their daily presents, Their hourly solicitations with letters, Their entertainments when I come, their plots They lay to view me, which should I recount, 'Twould puzzle my Arithmetic, and to answer Their unjust desires, would ask the labours Of some ten Stallions.
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)
HOw now Ardelio, what? ſo melancholy? Faith all this day I haue bin ſo imploid With ſetting things in order, and proviſions, I can compare my paines to nothing leſſe, Then a Lord Generals. Why what's the matter? Things muſt be ordered, and there's nothing Done, unleſſe I ouerſee it; my induſtry Muſt marſhall the Diſhes, put the Stooles in ranke, See the Wood ſet upon the carriages, Sharpen the Knives; all theſe witneſſe mycare The very ſhining of the Candleſtickes Acknowledge my directions. Tis much, The ſtrange activity that ſome men haue To diſpatch buſineſſe. Why Sir, did you never Heare how Apelles pictured Homer ſpewing, And all the Poets gaping to receive it? Yes, and what then? In the ſame manner doe I, Vpon the Huſhers, the Clarks, and the Butlers, The Cookes, and other Officers, 'mongſt whom I finde to be a drought of underſtanding, Showre downe the dregs of my counſell. They are like to be well edified. Here comes my Lord, make roome for my Lords grace. GOd ſave your honour, may your flouriſhing youth Enioy an everlaſting ſpring of beauty, And know no Autumne. Thankes good Ardelio: Your wiſhes haue effect, this is the tree, Vnder whoſe ſhadow Flora builds her Bower, And on whoſe branches, hangs ſuch tempting fruit, Would draw faire Atalanta from her courſe; An Altar, on which Queenes ſhould ſacrifice Their ſcorned loves: Nature will ſcarce beleeve It is her owne invention, and repines She has no way to be inceſtuous. Mr. Trimalchio, I am ſicke to heare him. I can't abide theſe repetitions, And tedious Encomiums of himſelfe: Let you and I walke a turne in the Garden. You are the onely Garden of y delight, And I your deare Adonis, honour'd Lady. Ardelio, tell me how this ſuit becomes me? Exactly well, Sir without controuerſie, And you weare it as neatly. Nay I have A reaſonable good Taylor, I hope he has not Survayd me ſo long, but he knowes my dimenſions. I thinke, I may venter i'th preſence with it. I'th preſence, I, and love wre in the preſence, You'd thruſt Ganimede out of his office. What thinke you Gentlemen? We all do wiſh, Your beauty, or your vanity were leſſe. For by this meanes, that which would elſe commend you, Proves your diſgrace, you take the edge of prayſe off, Is due to you, by too much whetting it. I ſhould prove too injurious to my ſelfe, Should I paſſe over, with a ſlight regard, This building, Nature has ſolemnized With ſuch Magnificence, to which I owe The loves of Ladies, and their daily preſents, Their hourely ſolicitations with letters, Their entertainments when I come, their plots They lay to view me, which ſhould I recount, 'Twould puzzell my Arithmeticke, and to anſwer Their uniuſt deſires, would aske the labours Of ſome ten Stallions.