Cowley, Abraham · published 1638 · first performed or written 1633 [c.1633-1636] (Annals) pastoral T22 Shepherds, flocks and Pan typicality 0.82 · 499 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T22: shepherd, pan, shepherds, love, sheep, flocks, fair, shepherdess, swain, away.
I cry you mercy Shepherdess, By Pan I did not see you. If my husband and Alupis were not here I'd rather pay him back his kiss again, Then be beholding to him. What, thou hast done't? Well if thou dost not die upon't, hereafter Thy body will agree even with the worst And stinking'st air in Europe. Nay, be not angry Shepherdess, you know He doth but jest as 'tis his custom. I know it is his custom; he was always Wont to abuse me, like a knave as he is, But I'll endure't no more. Prithee good Callidorus if her breath Be not too bad, go stop her mouth again, She'll scold till night else. Yes marry will I, that I will, you rascal you, I'll teach you to lay your frumps upon me; You delight in it, do you? Prithee be quiet, leave but talking to me And I will never jeer thee any more, We two will be so peaceable hereafter. Well upon that condition. So, I'm delivered, why how now Lads? What have you lost your tongues? I'll have them cried, Palaemon, Aegon, Callidorus, what? Are you all dumb? I pray continue so, And i'll be merry with myself. 'Tis better to dance then sing, The cause is if you will know it, That I to myself shall bring A Poverty Voluntary If once I grow but a Poet. And yet methinks you sing, O yes, because here's none do dance, And both are better far than to be sad. Come then let's have a round. A match; Palaemon whither go you? The Gods forbid that I should mock myself, Cheat my own mind, I dance and weep at once? You may: Farewell. 'Tis such a whining fool; come, come, Melarnus. I have no mind to dance; but come no matter for that, rather than break the squares.— By your leave, fair one. Would I were in her place. Come Hilace, thee and I wench I warrant thee, You and your wife together. God bless you; so— For 'tis but a folly, &c. So there's enough, I'm half aweary, Come no matter for that, I have not danced so much this year. So farewell, you'll come along with me. Yes, farewell gentle Swains. Farewell good Shepherd, Your best wishes follow you. Pan always guide you. It's no matter for that, come away. Nay, she is lost for ever, and her name Which used to be so comfortable, now Is poison to our thoughts, and to augment Our misery paints forth our former happiness, O Callidora, O my Callidora! I shall ne'er see thee more. If cursed Aphron Hath carried her away, and triumphs now In the destruction of our hoary age 'Twere better she were dead; 'T were better we were all dead; the enjoying Of tedious life is a worse punishment Than losing of my Daughter; Oh! my friends, Why have I lived so long? Good Sir be comforted: Brother speak to them.
nodes 341–414 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 6 of 41 in this edition
Length
499 words · 686 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T22 — Shepherds, flocks and Pancross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.821 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
seed 43: T24 · seed 44: T25 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
I cry you mercy Shepheardesse, By Pan I did not see you. If my husband and Alupis were not here I'de rather pay him back his kisse againe, Then be beholding to him. What, thou hast don't? Well if thou dost not dye upon't, hereafter Thy body will agree even with the worst And stinking'st ayre in Europe. Nay, be not angry Shepheardesse, you know He doth but jest as 'tis his custome. I know it is his custome; he was alwayes Wont to abuse me, like a knave as he is, But I'le endure't no more. Prithee good Callidorus if her breath Be not too bad, goe stop her mouth againe, She'le scould till night else. Yes marry will I, that I will, you rascall you, I'le teach you to lay your frumps upon me; You delight in it, doe you? Prithee be quiet, leave but talking to me And I will never jeere thee any more, We two will be so peaceable hereafter. Well upon that condition. So, I'me deliver'd, why how now Ladds? What have you lost your tongues? Ile have them cry'd, Palaemon, Aegon, Callidorus, what? Are you all dumbe? I pray continue so, And i'le be merry with my selfe. 'Tis better to dance then sing, The cause is if you will know it, That I to my selfe shall bring A Poverty Voluntary If once I grow but a Poet. And yet me thinkes you sing, O yes, because here's none doe dance, And both are better farre then to be sad. Come then let's have a round. A match; Palaemon whither goe you? The Gods forbid that I should mock my selfe, Cheate my owne mind, I dance and weepe at once? You may: Farewell. 'Tis such a whining foole; come, come, Melarnus. I have no mind to dance; but come no matter for that, rather then breake the squares.— By your leave, fayre one. Would I were in her place. Come Hilace, thee and I wench I warrant thee, You and your wife together. God blesse you; so— For 'tis but a folly, &c. So there's enough, I'me halfe a weary, Come no matter for that, I have not danc't so much this yeare. So farewell, you'le come along with me. Yes, farewell gentle Swaines. Farewell good Shepheard, Your best wishes follow you. Pan alwayes guide you. It's no matter for that, come away. Nay, shee is lost for ever, and her name Which us'd to be so comfortable, now Is poyson to our thoughts, and to augment Our misery paints forth our former happinesse, O Callidora, O my Callidora! I shall ne're see thee more. If cursed Aphron Hath caryed her away, and tryumphs now In the destruction of our hoary age 'Twere better shee were dead; 'T were better we were all dead; the enjoying Of tedious life is a worse punishment Then losing of my Daughter; Oh! my friends, Why have I lived so long? Good Sir be comforted: Brother speake to them.