Marmion, Shackerley · published 1632 · first performed or written 1631 [Dec] (Annals) comedy · Prince Charles's Men (second) · Salisbury Court T20 Hercules: labours, suffering and virtue typicality 0.78 · 499 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T20: hercules, hercles, ioue, deianeira, alcides, hand, lo, death, skies, hell.
It is a shame, that man that has the seeds Of virtue in him, springing unto glory, Should make his soul degenerous with sin, And slave to luxury, to drown his spirits In Lees of sloth, to yield up the weak day, To wine, to lust, and banquets. Here's a woman: The soul of Hercules has got into her. She has a spirit, is more masculine, Than the first gender: how her speech has filled me With love and wonder? sweet lady proceed. I would have you proceed, and seek for fame In brave exploits, like those that snatch their honour Out of the talents of the Roman Eagle. And pull her golden feathers in the field. Those are brave men, not you that stay at home, And dress yourself up, like a Pageant, With thousand antic, and exotic shapes, That make an idol of a looking-glass, sprucing yourself two hours by it, with such Gestures and postures, that a waiting wench Would be ashamed of you, and then come forth T'adore your Mistress Fan, or tell your dream, Ravish a ●●sse from her white glove, and then Compare it with her hand, to praise her gown, Her Tire, and discourse of the fashion; Make discovery, which Lady paints, which not: Which Lord plays best at Gleek, which best at Racket. These are fine elements. You have redeemed me, And with the sunny beams of your good counsel Dispersed the mist that hung so heavy on me: And that you may perceive it takes effect, I'll to the wars immediately. Why then, I must confess I shall love you the better. I will begin it in your happy omen: But first confess, that you have vanquished me. And if I shall o'ercome an enemy, Yield you the Trophies of the victory. Please you walk in the while. I shall attend you. Henceforth I'll strive to fly the sight of pleasure, As of an Harpy or a Basilisk, And when she flatters, seal my ears with Wax, Took from that boat, that rowed with a deaf oar, From the sweet tunes of the Sicilian shore. Are you for the war indeed? Immediately. Is there any of you will go along with me, Besides this Gentleman? I think nobody. Ardelio, thou art my faithful servant. Alas sir, My body is fat, and spongy, penetrable; And the least cold will kill me. Yet his face Is hatched with impudence, threefold thick. I am not for your Trenches, and cold cramps, Their discipline will quickly bring me under: I'll stay at home, and look to your business. Brother Capritìo, what say you to it? Who I? ods lid I am not such an Ass, To go amongst them, like your volunteers, That frighted worse at home with debt and danger, Travel abroad i'th' summer to see service, And then come home i'th' winter, to drink Sack. I am none of those, i'll hardly trust myself In the Artillery yard, for fear of mischief.
seed 43: T17 · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
It is a ſhame, that man that has the ſeeds Of vertue in him, ſpringing unto glory, Should make his ſoule degenerous with ſinne, And ſlave to luxury, to drowne his ſpirits In Lees of ſloth, to yeeld up the weake day, To wine, to luſt, and banquets. Here's a woman: The ſoule of Hercules has got into her. She has a ſpirit, is more maſculine, Then the firſt gender: how her ſpeech has fill'd me With love and wonder? ſweet adie proceed▪ I would have you proceed, and ſeeke for fame In brave exploits, like thoſe that ſnatch their honour Out of the talents of the Roman Eagle. And pull her golden feathers in the field. Thoſe are brave men, not you that ſtay at home, And dreſſe your ſelfe up, like a Pageant, With thouſand anticke, and exoticke ſhapes, That make an idoll of a Looking-glaſſe, Spruſing your ſelfe two houres by it, with ſuch Geſtures and poſtures, that a waiting wench Would be aſham'd of you, and then come forth T'adore your Miſtris Fanne, or tell your dreame, Raviſh a ſſe from her white glove, and then Compare it with her hand, to praiſe her gowne, Her Tire, and diſcourſe of the faſhion; Make diſcovery, which Ladie paints, which not: Which Lord playes beſt at Gleeke, which beſt at Racket. Theſ are fine elements. You have redeem'd me, And with the ſunnie beames of your good counſell Dſperſt the miſt that hung ſo heavie on me: And that you may perceive it takes effect, I'll to the warres immediately. Why then, I muſt confeſſe I ſhall love you the better. I will begin it in your happy omen: But firſt confeſſe, that you haue vanquiſht me. And if I ſhall orecome an enemy, Yeild you the Trophies of the victory. Pleaſe you walke in the while. I ſhall attend you. Henceforth I'le ſtriue to flye the ſight of pleaſure, As of an Harpy or a Baſiliske, And when ſhe flatters, ſeale my eares with Waxe, Tooke from that boat, that rowed with a deafe oare, From the ſweete tunes of the Sicilian ſhoare. Are you for the warre indeed? Immediately. Is there any of you will goe along with me, Beſides this Gentleman? I thinke no body. Ardelio, thou art my faythfull ſeruant. Alaſſe ſir, My body is fat, and ſpungy, penetrable; And the leaſt cold will kill mee. Yet his face Is hatcht with impudency, threefold thicke. I am not for your Trenches, and cold crampes, Their diſcipline will quickely bring me vnder: Ile ſtay at home, and looke to your buſineſſe. Brother Capritìo, what ſay you to it? Who I? ods lid I am not ſuch an Aſſe, To goe amongſt them, like your volunteers, That frighted worſe at home with debt and danger, Trauell abroad i'th ſummer to ſee ſeruice, And then come home i'th winter, to drinke Sacke. I am none of thoſe, i'le hardly truſt my ſelfe In the Artillery yard, for feare of miſchiefe.