Aristippus
| dc.contributor | Warren, Murray Magdalen College, University of Oxford |
| dc.contributor.author | Randolph, Thomas, 1605-1635 |
| dc.date.accessioned | 2018-07-27 |
| dc.date.accessioned | 2019-07-04T10:59:10Z |
| dc.date.available | 2019-07-04T10:59:10Z |
| dc.date.created | 1630 |
| dc.identifier | ota:0114 |
| dc.identifier.citation | http://purl.ox.ac.uk/ota/0114 |
| dc.identifier.uri | http://hdl.handle.net/20.500.12024/0114 |
| dc.description.abstract | Mode of access: Online. OTA website |
| dc.format.extent | Text data (1 file : ca. 49 KB) |
| dc.format.medium | Digital bitstream |
| dc.language | English |
| dc.language.iso | eng |
| dc.publisher | University of Oxford |
| dc.relation.ispartof | Legacy Collection Digital Museum |
| dc.rights | Distributed by the University of Oxford under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License. |
| dc.rights.uri | http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/3.0/ |
| dc.rights.label | PUB |
| dc.subject.lcsh | Plays -- England -- 17th century |
| dc.title | Aristippus |
| dc.type | Text |
| has.files | yes |
| branding | Oxford Text Archive |
| files.size | 55739 |
| files.count | 2 |
| otaterms.date.range | 1600-1699 |
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<A RANDOLPH><T ARISTIPPUS>
<S PRAELUDIUM>
Shewes hauing beene long intermitted, and
forbidden by Authority for their abuses, could
not be raysed but by coniuring.
((Enter Prologue in a Circle.))
<S PROLOGUE>
Be not deceiu'd, I haue no bended knees,
No supple tongue, nor speeches steep'd in Oyle,
No Candied flattery, nor honied words,
I come an armed Prologue arm'd with arts,
Who by my sacred charmes and mystique skill,
By virtue of this all-commanding Wand
Stolne from the sleepy Mercury, will raise
From black Abysse and sutty Hell, that mirth
Which fits this learned round. Thou long-dead Show
Breake from thy Marble prison, sleepe no more
In myrie darknesse, henceforth I forbid thee
To bath in Lethe's muddy waues, ascend
As bright as morning from her Tithons bed,
And red with kisses that haue stayn'd thy cheeke,
Grow fresh againe: What? is my power contemned?
Dost thou not heare my call whose power extends
To blast the bosome of our mother Earth?
To remoue heauens whole frame from o . . .
