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 · 505 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T4: love, heart, sweet, loves, fair, phillis, eyes, beauty, amyntas, lovers.
No stirring in him, no alacrity, Of all this sprightly sharpness, not a smile; Yet these that we count errors may become him: Narcissus was a sad Boy, but a heavenly: Oh who can find the bent of woman's fancy? I am a Fool, my reason is lost in me, I have no choice, and I have lied so lewdly That women ought to beat me. On my knees I ask thy pardon: Palamon, thou art alone, And only beautiful, and these the eyes, These the bright lamps of beauty, that command And threaten Love, and what young Maid dare cross 'em What a bold gravity, and yet inviting Has this brown manly face? O Love, this only From this hour is Complexion: Lie there Arcite, Thou art a changeling to him, a mere Gipsy. And this the noble Body: I am sotted, Utterly lost: My Virgin's faith has fled me. For if my brother but even now had asked me Whether I loved, I had run mad for Arcite, Now if my Sister; More for Palamon, Stand both together: Now, come ask me Brother, Alas, I know not: ask me now sweet Sister, I may go look; What a mere child is fancy, That having two fair gauds of equal sweetness, Cannot distinguish, but must cry for both. How now Sir? From the Noble Duke your Brother Madam, I bring you news: The Knights are come. To end the quarrel? Yes. Would I might end first: What sins have I committed, chaste Diana, That my unspotted youth must now be soiled With blood of Princes? and my Chastity Be made the Altar, where the lives of Lovers, Two greater, and two better never yet Made mother's joy, must be the sacrifice To my unhappy Beauty? Bring 'em in quickly, By any means, I long to see'em. Your two contending Lovers are returned, And with them their fair Knights: Now my fair Sister, You must love one of them. I had rather both, So neither for my sake should fall untimely Who saw'em? I a while. And I. From whence come you Sir? From the Knights. Pray speak You that have seen them, what they are. I will Sir, And truly what I think: Six braver spirits Than these they have brought, (if we judge by the outside) I never saw, nor read of: He that stands In the first place with Arcite, by his seeming Should be a stout man, by his face a Prince, (His very looks so say him) his complexion, Nearer a brown, than black; stern, and yet noble, Which shows him hardy, fearless, proud of dangers: The circles of his eyes show fair within him, And as a heated Lion, so he looks; His hair hangs long behind him, black and shining Like Ravens wings: his shoulders broad, and strong, Armed long and round, and on his Thigh a Sword Hung by a curious Bauldricke; when he frowns To seal his will with, better o'my conscience Was never Soldiers friend.
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)
No stirring in him, no alacrity, Of all this sprightly sharpenes, not a smile; Yet these that we count errours may become him: Narcissu was a sad Boy, but a heavenly: Oh who can finde the bent of womans fancy? I am a Foole, my reason is lost in me, I have no choice, and I have ly'd so lewdly That women ought to beate me. On my knees I aske thy pardon: Palamon, thou art alone, And only beutifull, and these the eyes, These the bright lamps of beauty, that command And threaten Love, and what yong Mayd dare crosse 'em What a bold gravity, and yet inviting Has this browne manly face? O Love, this only From this howre is Complexion: Lye there Arcite, Thou art a changling to him, a meere Gipsey. And this the noble Bodie: I am sotted, Vtterly lost: My Virgins faith has fled me. For if my brother but even now had ask'd me Whether I lov'd, I had run mad for Arcite, Now if my Sister; More for Palamon, Stand both together: Now, come aske me Brother, Alas, I know not: aske me now sweet Sister, I may goe looke; What a meere child is Pancie, That having two faire gawdes of equall sweetnesse, Cannot distinguish, but must crie for both. How now Sir? From the Noble Duke your Brother Madam, I bring you newes: The Knights are come. To end the quarrell? Yes. Would I might end first: What sinnes have I committed, chast Diana, That my unspotted youth must now be soyld With blood of Princes? and my Chastitie Be made the Altar, where the lives of Lovers, Two greater, and two better never yet Made mothers joy, must be the sacrifice To my unhappy Beautie? Bring 'em in quickly, By any meanes, I long to see'em. Your two contending Lovers are return'd, And with them their faire Knights: Now my faire Sister, You must love one of them. I had rather both, So neither for my sake should fall untimely Who saw'em? I a while. And I. From whence come you Sir? From the Knights. Pray speake You that have seene them, what they are. I will Sir, And truly what I thinke: Six braver spirits Then these they have brought, (if we judge by the outside) I never saw, nor read of: He that stands In the fitst place with Arcite, by his seeming Should be a stout man, by his face a Prince, (His very lookes so say him) his complexion, Nearer a browne, than blacke; sterne, and yet noble, Which shewes him hardy, fearelesse, proud of dangers: The circles of his eyes show faire within him, And as a heated Lyon, so he lookes; His haire hangs long behind him, blacke and shining Like Ravens wings: his shoulders broad, and ftrong, Armd long and round, and on his Thigh a Sword Hung by a curious Bauldricke; when he frownes To seale his will with, better o'my conscience Was never Souldiers friend.