Shirley, James · published 1639 · first performed or written 1626 [licensed for stage, Feb 9] (Annals) tragedy · Queen Henrietta Maria's Men · Phoenix/Cockpit T4 Love-longing and the lover's complaint typicality 0.77 · 482 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T4: love, heart, sweet, loves, fair, phillis, eyes, beauty, amyntas, lovers.
Would you have anybody hate me? Yes, I'd hate 'em, I'd but thrust my hand into their Mouth down to the bottom of their bellies, pluck Out their lungs and shake their insides outward. Noble Sir, you need not heap more protestations, I do believe you love me, Do you believe I love, and not accept it? Yes I accept it too, but apprehend me As men do gifts, whose acceptation does not Bind to perform what every giver craves; Without a stain to virgin modesty I can accept your love, but pardon me, It is beyond my power to grant your suit. Oh you too much subject a natural gift, And make yourself beholding for your own: The Sun hath not more right to his own beams, With which he gilds the day, nor the Sea lord Of his own waves. Alas, what is't to own a passion Without power to direct it, for I move, Not by a motion I can call my own, But by a higher rapture, in obedience To a father, and I have yet no freedom To place affection, so you but endear me Without a merit. Here my sister. And Don Valasco, how now, are thy arrows feathered? Well enough for roving. Roving I thought to. But I hope fair. Shoote home then; Valasco I have Presented my miseris with a paper of verses, see she 'em. Didst make 'em thyself My money did, what an idle question is that? as though we That are great men, are not furnished with stipendiary Muses, am sure for my own part I can buy 'em Cheaper than I can make 'em a great deal, would You have learning have no reward, she laughs 'em, ay am glad of that. They our o a true Poeticke fury. Do you smell nothing, something hath some savour. But this line my thinks hath more more feet than the rest. It should run the better for that Lady, I did it a purpose. But here's another lame. That was my conceit, my own invention, lame Halting verses, there's the greatest Art, besides I T hy give you to understand, that I am valiant, cut of legs and arms at all times and make 'em Go halting home that are my enemies, I am An Iambographier now it is out. For honour's sake what's that? One of the sourest versifiers that ever crept out of Pernassus when I set on't. I can make anybody hang himself With Iambick , I can fetch blood with Asce p ads st ad with hexameter and pentameter, and Yet I have a trimeter left for thee my Dona Catalina Conclude a peace sir with your passion. I am sorry love hath been unkind to you. To point at me, who, till the first have knit The sacred knot of marriage am forbid To think of love.
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)
Would you have any body hate me? Yes, Ide hate 'em, Ide but thrust my hand into their Mouth downe to the bottome of their bellies, plucke Out their lungs and shake their insides outward. Noble Sir, you neede not heape more protestations, I do beleeve you love me, Doe you beleeve I love, and not accept it? Yes I accept it too, but apprehend me As men doe guifts, whose acceptation does not Binde to per orme what every giver craves; Without a staine to virgin modesty I can accept your love, but pardon me, It is beyond my power to grant your suite. Oh you too much subject a naturall guift, And make your selfe beholding for your owne: The Sunne hath not more right to his owne beames, With which he gildes the day, nor the Sea lord Of his owne wa es. Alasse, what ist to owne a passion Without power to direct it, for I move, Not by a motion I can call my owne, But by a higher r pture, in obedience To a father, and I have yet no freedome To place affection, so you but endeere me Without a merit. Here my sister. And Don Valasco, how now, are thy arrowes feathred? Well enough for roving. Roving I thought to. hope faire. home then, Valasco I have my miseris with a paper of verses, see she 'em. make em thy selfe money did, what an idle question is that? as tho we That are great men, are not furnished with stipendary am sure for my owne part I can buy 'em Cheape can make 'em a great deale, would You have learning have no reward, she laughs am glad of that. They our o a true Poeticke fury. Do you smell nothing, something hath some savour. But this li my think hath more more feete than the rest. run the better for that Lady, I did it a purpose. But heres another lame. That was my conceit, my owne invention, lame Halting ses, theres the greatest Art, besides I T hy give you to understand, that I am valiant, legs and armes at all times and make 'em Goe halting home that are my enemies, I am An ambographier now it i out. For honours sake what's that? One of the sourest versifiers that ever crept out of when I set on't. I n make any body hang himselfe With Iambick , I can fetch blood with Asce p ads st ad with hexameter and pentameter, and Yet I have a trimeter for thee my Dona Catalina Conclude a peace sir with your passion. I am sory love hath beene unkind to you. To p at me, who, till the first have knit The sacred knot of marriage am forbid To thinke of love.