in The Sophister (Fallacy, or The Troubles of Great Hermenia) — Zouche, Richard
Metadata
Play
The Sophister (Fallacy, or The Troubles of Great Hermenia)
Author
Zouche, Richard
Year (catalogued)
1639
First performance
1614
Decade
1630s
Genre
Comedy
Play type
University
Speech prefix(es)
Conv.
Words
342
Characters
1993
Typicality
0.17 (cosine to cluster centroid)
TCP id
A15873
BritDrama no.
1922
Cluster
Cluster 7 — Pedants, satyrs & Latin wit
Important excerpts
No keyword-matching excerpt could be extracted (the cluster label doesn't share vocabulary with this character's speech).
Full speech
Can Aequipolency endure all this? Can all this be en dured by Aequipolency? I am no Stoic. O these Climates are too cunning, I must seek further. Faith he will led the next way from Leyden to Doway, That it may be I may make use of him, Did not these troubles banish me: I would go voluntary: Your finest wits are thought insipu'd till They have passed the salt water. Our homespun learning's of a courser thread, It's stained and smoked in dressing. The Germanes vates drenched in a deeper grain, Venice and Padua will return them richer; And I begin to pity thy wilfulness. What course intendest thou? 'Twere thy best, being skilled in tempering Confections, to proclaim some Paracelsian Oil, or Angelical pills. I will to Flushing, Midleborough, Amsterdam, peradven ture thence to Antwerp, and so to see Rheims and Room. Well, except the morrow Sun display more comfort, I am gone believe it. This fellow thinks himself as cunning as a tumbler that walks upon ropes, and with his level keeps himself upright, but his steps are dangerous, I had rather walk on the Alps, though sleeper, where I may have sure footing. I, who my restless wits have daily tied, In searching choicest objects of delight: Though none more grateful, none more tedious Then that most blessed content which they enjoy, Who underneath the courteous Laurel shade, In muses laps do rest their weary heads; But now alas, what proud ambition, What jealous envy, greedy avarice, Hath cast infection on those purer springs? They whose kind steel was sometime only proud In giving waxed tablets, some cured wounds, In their own ireful, and all hardened breasts, Imprint the tragic characters of death Hight in pursuit of lost lord Intellect; I am informed by Definition, My best esteemed loving Topicus Lies desperate hurt by Demonstration. So betwixt my deer affection to him And bounden duty to my absent Lord, My hearts divided with convulsions, But pardon me great Amina, thy son Commands my service, this one duty done.
Plot summary
Plot — The Sophister (Fallacy, or The Troubles of Great Hermenia)