Lower, William · published 1639 · first performed or written 1639 [c.1622-1639] (Annals) not in BritDrama unassigned nearest T48 Addressing a lady: love, desire and inti · 510 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T48: lady, love, heart, fair, eyes, la, lord, tears, fie, face.
I'll not be Averse unto good counsel though I value This life at a low rate; now let's direct Our steps towards that happy soil you spoke off, That I may see though now with humbled eyes Phaenicia fair, the minion of the skies,— See fair Lucinda mine, what triumphs we Bring to adorn thy conquests, see what captives Are ready here to wait upon thy triumph, See what a purple flood hath issued forth From these two gaping wounds which I received To bring these precious jewels to Lucinda, And yet she kills Rapinus with disdain, Did ere your eyes see fairer? Never true lie, And I believe this Kingdom yields none such, They speak the owner some great personage, From whom did you extort them? From that captive Who killed Praedarius and thus wounded me, And made such havoc of our men, he now Shall lie in durance for't. Heavens what a wonder, What an Angelic object strikes mine eyes, In masculine appearance!— aside. Were you Noble These jewels were a ransom to redeem him, And set his friends and him at liberty At least to bar hard usage. If it be Your pleasure to command their free enlargement, I seal unto it, for fair Lady know You carry such divinity about you As it converted hath and almost altered (I speak it to my shame) my former nature, But had I still continued as myself, I had not begged this favour, which you know I might command at pleasure. You are angry And all this while mistake me, I as little Desire their liberty as you yourself, But I would have them used in gentler manner Than other prisoners for these jewels sake, Which take me more than all the wealth you ere Presented me withal. This cheers me yet That now at length, one of my offerings are Accepted by my goddess; captives kneel And reverence her deity whose breath Hath freed you from a servitude more dark Than hell itself; now this must be your prison This Cave of mine, till we determine further. Would I might be his jailer and his surgeon, Alas, his wounds bleed— aside Sir you'll lose your prisoners Unless some care be taken for their wounds, Their death can do no service, first I'll dress Your hurts, and then for pity's sake apply A plaster unto theirs. Do what you will Your wounds are deep Sir— dresses him. I believe they are, And you have one fair Lady too wants tenting, I hope one day to search it and return Your courtesy again in a kind nature.— aside This salve will cure it. I believe no less, There is great virtue in 't derived from you. Come let the dress you Sir. Me gentle Lady, No let me bleed to death, like Seneca Go sleeping to my grave, your pains were ill Bestowed on one that's weary of his life; Show your compassion one my friends, and than You shall oblige my ashes in their urn To bless your bounty.
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)
I'le not be Averse unto good counsell though I value This life at a lowe rate; now let's direct Our steppes towards that happy soile you spake off, That I may see though now with humbled eyes Phaenitia faire, the minion of the skies,— See faire Lucinda mine, what triumphs we Bring to adorne thy conquests, see what captives Are ready here to waite upon thy triumph, See what a purple flood hath issued forth From these two gaping wounds which I receiv'd To bring these pretious jewels to Lucinda, And yet she kils Rapi with disdaine, Did ere your eyes see fairer? Never true lie, And I beleeve this Kingdome yeelds none such, They speake the owner some great personage▪ From whom did you them▪ From that captive Who kill'd Praedaius and thus wounded me, And made such havocke of our men, he now Shall lie in durance for't. Heavens what a wonder, What an Angelike object strikes mine eyes, In masculine appearance!—aside. Were you Noble These jwels were a ransome to redeeme him, And set his friends and him at liberty At least to barre hard usage. If it be Your pleasure to command their free enlargement, I seale unto it, for faire Lady know You carry such divinity about you As it converted hath and almost alter'd (I speake it to my shame) my former nature, But had I still continued as my selfe, I had not begg'd this favour, which you know I might command at pleasure. You are angry And all this while mistake me, as little Desire their liberty as you your selfe, But I would have them us'd in gentler manner Then other prisoners for these jewels sake, Which take me more then all the wealth you ere Presented me withall. This cheeres me yet That now at length, one of my offerings are Accepted by my goddesse; captives kneele And reverence her deity whose breath Hath free'd you from a servitude more darke Then hell it selfe; now this must bee your prison This Cave of mine, till we determine further. Would I might be his ayl and his surgeon, ▪ his wounds bleed— Sir you'll loose your prisoners Vnlesse some care be taken for their wounds, Their death can doe no service, first I'le dres Your hurts▪ and then for pities sake apply A plaister unto their. Do what you will Your wounds are deepe Sir—dresses him. I beleeve they are, And you have one faire Lady too wants ening, I hope one day to search it and returne Your courtesie againe in a kind nature.—aside This salve will cure it. I beleve no lesse, There is great vetue in 't deriv'd from you. Come let the dresse you Sir. Me gentle Lady, No let me bleed to death, like Seneca Go sleeping to my grave, your paines were ill Bestow'd on one that's weary of his life; Shew your compassion one my friends, and then You shall blige my ashes in their urne To blesse your bounty.