Rutter, Joseph / Corneille, Pierre · published 1637 · first performed or written 1637 [1637-1638] (Annals) not in BritDrama · before the Court unassigned nearest T4 Love-longing and the lover's complaint · 480 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T4: love, heart, sweet, loves, fair, phillis, eyes, beauty, amyntas, lovers.
And yet i'th' midst of all their good success One may perceive in you a kind of sorrow; Why should that love which lifts them up with joy Weigh your great heart down with a heavy sadness, And th' interest which you have in their love, Make you unhappy, when themselves are blessed? But I'm too forward, and grow indiscreet. To stifle it increases more my grief! Leonora, thou shalt know it, and now hear What a strange conflict I have had within me, And when th' hast heard it, pitying my weakness, Admire my virtue, love is such a Tyrant As will spare none, this Gentleman, this lover Which I've bestowed on her, I love myself. You madam? Lay thy hand upon my heart And feel now how it pants at th' hearing of The name of its own Conqueror. Pardon me, Madam, If blaming of your love, I do forget My due respect; is he a match for you, A private Gentleman? can you a Princess In a point of such consequence forget Whose child you are? what will the King say, think you? Do you remember, Madam, whose you are? Yes, yes, Leonora, and will rather die Than do a thing unworthy of my birth: Though I could tell thee that in noble souls Merit alone aught to produce true love, And if my passion would fly to excuses, Many examples might authorise it, Yet I'll not follow that in which my honour Must be engaged. If I have much of love, I have much more of courage, and methinks A noble true disdain tells me that I, The daughter of a King, should deem all others Below my love, unless it were a Monarch: But when I see my heart is not of force To make its own defence, I give away That which I dare not take:' stead of myself I put Cimena fast into his fetters, And kindle their fire to put out mine own. Be not amazed then, if with distraction I still expect their marriage; you see All my repose only depends on it, If love do live on hope, it dies with it; 'Tis a fire, that not nourished will go out, And spite of my ill fortune, if Cimena Marry Don Roderigo, my long hopes Dying, my mind will be at ease; till then I'm still in torment; till his day of marriage Roderigo is my love, whom though I labour To lose, I cannot choose but grieve to lose him; I find my soul divided in two parts, My heart with honour fired as well as love: This Hymen's fatal, I both wish, and fear it. Nor can I hope for any perfect joy, Since whether he obtain his love, or no, So many baits my love and honour have, In stead of comfort I must find a grave.
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)
And yet i'th midſt of all their good ſucceſſe One may perceive in you a kinde of ſorrow; Why ſhould that love which lifts them up with joy Weigh your great heart downe with a heavie ſadneſſe, And th' intereſt which you have in their love, Make you unhappy, when themſelves are bleſt? But I'me too forward, and grow indiſcreet. To ſtifle it increaſes more my griefe! Leonora, thou ſhalt know it, and now heare What a ſtrange conflict I have had within me, And when th' haſt heard it, pittying my weakneſſe, Admire my vertue, love is ſuch a Tyrant As will ſpare none, this Gentleman, this lover Which I've beſtow'd on her, I love my ſelfe. You Madame? Lay thy hand upon my heart And feele now how it pants at th' hearing of The name of its owne Conquerour. Pardon me, Madam, If blaming of your love, I doe forget My due reſpect; is he a match for you, A private Gentleman? can you a Princeſſe In a point of ſuch conſequence forget Whoſe child you are? what will the King ſay, think you? Doe you remember, Madam, whoſe you are? Yes, yes, Leonora, and will rather die Than doe a thing unworthy of my birth: Though I could tell thee that in noble ſoules Merit alone ought to produce true love, And if my paſſion would flie to excuſes, Many examples might authorize it, Yet I'le not follow that in which my honour Muſt be ingag'd. If I have much of love, I have much more of courage, and me thinks A noble true diſdaine tels me that I, The daughter of a King, ſhould deeme all others Below my love, unleſſe it were a Monarch: But when I ſee my heart is not of force To make its owne defence, I give away That which I dare not take: 'ſtead of my ſelfe I put Cimena faſt into his fetters, And kindle their fire to put out mine owne. Be not amaz'd then, if with diſtraction I ſtill expect their marriage; you ſee All my repoſe onely depends on it, If love doe live on hope, it dies with it; 'Tis a fire, that not nouriſh'd will goe out, And ſpight of my ill fortune, if Cimena Marry Don Roderigo, my long hopes Dying, my minde will be at eaſe; till then I'me ſtill in torment; till his day of marriage Roderigo is my love, whom though I labour To loſe, I cannot chuſe but grieve to loſe him; I finde my ſoule divided in two parts, My heart with honour fir'd as well as love: This Hymen's fatall, I both wiſh, and feare it. Nor can I hope for any perfect joy, Since whether he obtaine his love, or no, So many baits my love and honour have, In ſtead of comfort I muſt finde a grave.