Shakespeare, William / Fletcher, John · published 1634 · first performed or written 1613 [1613-1614] (Annals) tragicomedy · King's Men · Blackfriars unassigned nearest T4 Love-longing and the lover's complaint · 471 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T4: love, heart, sweet, loves, fair, phillis, eyes, beauty, amyntas, lovers.
Sure there cannot. I do not think it possible our friendship Should ever leave us. Till our deaths it cannot And after death our spirits shall be led To those that love eternally. Speak on Sir. This garden has a world of pleasures in't. What Flower is this? 'tis called Narcissus Madam. That was a fair Boy certain, but a fool, To love himself, were there not maids enough? Pray forward. Yes. Or were they all hard hearted? They could not be to one so fair. Thou wouldst not. I think I should not, Madam. That's a good wench: But take heed to your kindness though. Why Madam? Men are mad things. Will ye go forward Cosen? Canst not thou work such flowers in silk wench? Yes. e have a gowne full of 'em and of these, This is a pretty colour, wilt not do Rarely upon a Skirt wench? Dainty Madam. cousin, Cosen, how do you Sir? Why Palamon? Never till now I was in prison Arcite. Why 'ss the matter Man? Behold, and wonder. By heaven she is a Goddess. Ha. Do reverence. She is a Goddess Arcite. Of all Flowers. Me thinks a Rose is best. Why gentle Madam? It is the very Emblem of a Maid. For when the west wind courts her gently How modestly she blows, and paints the Sun, With her chaste blushes? When the North comes near her, Rude and impatient, then, like Chastity She locks her beauties in her bud again, And leaves him to base briers. Yet good Madam, Sometimes her modesty will blow so far She falls for't: a Maid If she have any honour, would be loath To take example by her. Thou art wanton. She is wondrous fair. She is all the beauty extant. The Sun grows high, le's walk in, keep these flowers, we'll see how near Art can come near their colours; I am wondrous merry hearted, I could laugh now. I could lie down I am sure. And take one with you? That's as we bargain Madam, Well, agree then. What think you of this beauty? 'tis a rare one. Is't but a rare one? Yes a matchless beauty. Might not a man well lose himself and love her? I cannot tell what you have done, I have, Beshrew mine eyes for't, now I feel my Shackles. You love her then? Who would not? And desire her? Before my liberty. I saw her first. That's nothing But it shall be. I saw her too. Yes, but you must not love her. I will not as you do; to worship her; As she is heavenly, and a blessed Gods; (I love her as a woman, to enjoy her) So both may love. You shall not love at all. Not love at all. Who shall deny me?
seed 43: T2 · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Sure there cannot. I doe not thinke it possible our friendship Should ever leave us. Till our deathes it cannot And after death our spirits shall be led To those that love eternally. Speake on Sir. This garden has a world of pleasures in't. What Flowre is this? Tis calld Narcissus Madam. That was a faire Boy certaine, but a foole, To love himselfe, were there not maides enough? Pray forward. Yes. Or were they all hard hearted? They could not be to one so faire. Thou wouldst not. I thinke I should not, Madam. That's a good wench: But take heede to your kindnes though. Why Madam? Men are mad things. Will ye goe forward Cosen? Canst not thou work: such flowers in silke wench? Yes. e have a gowne full of 'em and of these, This is a pretty colour, wilt not doe Rarely upon a Skirt wench? Deinty Madam. Gosen, Cosen, how doe you Sir? Why Palamon? Never till now I was in prison Arcite. Why whats the matter Man? Behold, and wonder. By heaven shee is a Goddesse. Ha. Doe reverence. She is a Goddesse Arcite. Of all Flowres. Me thinkes a Rose is best. Why gentle Madam? It is the very Embleme of a Maide. For when the west wind courts her gently How modestly she blowes, and paints the Sun, With her chaste blushes? When the North comes neere her, Rude and impatient, then, like Chastity Shee lockes her beauties in her bud againe, And leaves him to base briers. Yet good Madam, Sometimes her modesty will blow so far She fals for't: a Mayde If shee have any honour, would be loth To take example by her. Thou art wanton. She is wondrous faire. She is all the beauty extant. The Sun grows high, lets walk in, keep these flowers, Weele see how neere Art can come neere their colours; I am wondrous merry hearted, I could laugh now. I could lie downe I am sure. And take one with you? That's as we bargaine Madam, Well, agree then. What thinke you of this beauty? Tis a rare one. Is't but a rare one? Yes a matchles beauty. Might not a man well lose himselfe and love her? I cannot tell what you have done, I have, Beshrew mine eyes for't, now I feele my Shackles. You love her then? Who would not? And desire her? Be fore my liberty. I saw her first. That's nothing But it shall be. I saw her too. Yes, but you must not love her. I will not as you doe; to worship her; As she is heavenly, and a blessed Goddes; (I love her as a woman, to enjoy her) So both may love. You shall not love at all. Not love at all. Who shall deny me?