Cowley, Abraham · published 1638 · first performed or written 1633 [c.1633-1636] (Annals) pastoral unassigned nearest T32 Rings and jewels as tokens · 511 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T32: ring, ti, gave, finger, jewel, lady, lord, love, invisible, away.
Alas! I have Sir, and do therefore now Prepare to answer, if this passion be love, my fortune bids me to deny you; If lust, my honesty commands to scorn you, Farewell. O stay a little! but two words: she's gone, Gone like the glorious Sun, which being set Night creeps behind and covers all; some way I must seek out to win her, or what's easier (And the blind man himself without a guide May find) some way to die; would I had been Borne a poor shepherd in these shady woods. Nature is cruel in her benefits And when she gives us honey, mingles gall. She said that if she married, the woods Should find a husband for her. I will woo her In Sylvan habit, then perhaps she'll love me— But yet I will not, that's in vain; I will too, It cannot hurt to try. Nay come, she's just behind us, are you ready? When she scolds, be you low deft, if she cry Then laugh abundantly, thus we will vex her Into a good conceit of you. I'll warrant you; you have instructed me enough, She comes. Is't possible that Bellula— Fair creature— Sure thou wert borne to trouble me, who sent for thee? Whom all the Nymphs (though women use to be) As you know, envious of another's beauty) Confess the pride and glory of these woods. When did you make this speech? 'tis a most neat one Go, get you gone, look to your rotting cattle, You'll never keep a wife, who are not able To keep your sheep. Good! she abuses him Now 'tis a miracle he doth not cry. Thou whom the stars might envy 'cause they are Outshone by thee on earth. Pray get you gone, Or hold your prating tongue, for whatsoever Thou sayest, I will not hear a syllable, Much less answer thee. No; I'll try that straight I have a present here— Which if you'll give me leave, I shall presume To dedicate to your service. You're so cunning, And have such pretty ways to entice me with, Come let me see it. Oh! have you found a tongue? I thought I had not been worth an answer? How now; what tricks are these? Give it me quickly, or— Pray get you gone, or hold your prating tongue; For whatsoever thou sayest I will not hear A syllable, much less answer thee. Good boy 'faith: now let me come. This is some plot I see, would I were gone, I had as lief see the wolf as this Alupis. Here's a fine Ring, i'faith, a very pretty one, Do your teeth water at it Damsel? ha? Why we will sell our sheep, and oxen, girl, Hang them scurvy beasts, to buy you pretty knacks That you might laugh at us, and call us fools And jeer us too, as far as your wit reaches, Bid us be gone, and when we have talked two hours, Deny to answer us; Nay you must stay And hear a little more.
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)
Alas! I have Sir, and doe therefore now Prepare to answer, if this passion Bee love, my fortune bids me to deny you; If lust, my honesty commands to scorne you, Farewell. O stay a little! but two words: she's gone, Gone like the glorious Sun, which being sette Night creepes behind and covers all; some way I must seeke out to win her, or what's easier (And the blind man himselfe without a guide May find) some way to dye; would I had beene Borne a poore shepheard in these shady woods. Nature is cruell in her benefits And when she gives us honey, mingles gall. She said that if she married, the woods Should find a husband for her. I will wooe her In Sylvan habit, then perhaps she'le love me — But yet I will not, that's in vaine; I will too, It cannot hurt to try. Nay come, she's just behind us, are you ready? When she scoulds, bee you low deft, if she cry Then laugh abundantly, thus we will vex her Into a good conceit of you. I'le warrant you; you have instructed me enough, Shee comes. Is't possible that Bellula— Fayre creature— Sure thou wert borne to trouble me, who sent for thee▪ Whom all the Nymphs (though women use to be) As you know, envious of anothers beauty) Confesse the pride and glory of these woods. When did you make this speech? 'tis a most neat one Goe, get you gone, looke to your rotting cattell, You'le never keepe a wife, who are not able To keepe your sheepe. Good! she abuses him Now 'tis a miracle he doth not cry. Thou whom the starres might envy 'cause they are Outshone by thee on earth. Pray get you gon, Or hold your prating tongue, for whatsoever Thou sayest, I will not heare a syllable, Much lesse answer thee. No; I'le try that streight I have a present here— Which if you'le give me leave, I shall presume To dedicate to your service. You're so cunning, And have such pretty wayes to entice me with, Come let me see it. Oh! have you found a tongue? I thought I had not beene worth an answer? How now; what tricks are these? Give it me quickly, or — Pray get you gon, or hold your prating tongue; For whatsoever thou sayest I will not heare A syllable, much lesse answer thee. Good boy'faith: now let me come. This is some plot I see, would I were gone, I had as lief see the wolfe as this Alupis. Here's a fine Ring, I faith, a very pretty one, Doe your teeth water at it Damsell? ha? Why we will sell our sheepe, and oxen, girle, Hang them scurvy beasts, to buy you pretty knacks That you might laugh at us, and call us fooles And jeere us too, as farre as your wit reaches, Bid us be gone, and when we have talkt two houres, Deny to answer us; Nay you must stay And heare a little more.