Shirley, James · published 1640 · first performed or written 1635 [licensed for stage, Feb 6] (Annals) tragicomedy · Queen Henrietta Maria's Men · Phoenix/Cockpit unassigned nearest T4 Love-longing and the lover's complaint · 498 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T4: love, heart, sweet, loves, fair, phillis, eyes, beauty, amyntas, lovers.
Give me your pardon sir, Arcadius, At our last meeting without argument To move him more than his affection to me, Vowed he did love me; love me 'bove all women, And to confirm his heart was truly mine, He wished, I tremble to remember it, When he forsook his Polidora's love, That Heaven might kill his happiness on earth: Was not this nobly said, did not this promise A truth to shame the Turtles? And his heart Is still the same, and I thy coustant Lover. Give me your leave I pray, I would not say Arcadius was perjured, but the same day Forgetting all his promises, and oaths, While yet they hung upon his lips, for sooke me, Dye not remember this too, gave his faith From me, transported with the noise of greatness, And would be married to a kingdom. But heaven permitted not I should dispose What was ordained for thee. It was not virtue In him, for sure he found no check, no sting In his own bosom, but gave freely all The reins to blind ambition. I am wounded, The thought of thee i'th' throng of all my eyes, Like poison poured in Nectar, turns me frantic, Dear, if Arcadius have made a fault, Let not Demetrius be punished for't, He pleads that ever will be constant to thee. Shall I believe man's flatteries again, Lose my sweet rest, and peace of thought again, Be drawn by you, from the straight paths of virtue Into the maze of Love. I see compassion in thy eye, that chides me If I have either soul, but what's contained Within these words, or if one syllable Of their full force, be not made good by me, May all relenting thoughts in you take end, And thy disdain be doubled, from thy pardon, I'll count my Coronation, and that hour Fix with a rubric in my calendar, As an auspicious time to entertain Affairs of weight with Princes, think who now Entreats thy mercy, come thou shalt be kind, And divide titles with me Hear me sir, I loved you once for virtue, and haven not A thought so much unguarded as to be won From my truth, and innocence with any Motives of state to affect you, Your bright temptation mourns while it stays here Nor can the triumph of glory, which made you Forget me, so court my opinion back, Were you no King, I should be sooner drawn Again to love you, but 'tis now too late, A low obedience shall become me best: May all the joys I want Still wait on you, if time hereafter tell you That sorrow for your fault hath struck me dead, May one soft teare drop from your eye, in ty Bedew my hearse, and I shall sleep securely I have but one word more for goodness sake, For your own honour sir correct your passion To her you shall love next, and I forgive you.
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)
Give me your pardon sir, Arcadius, At our last meeting without argument To move him more then his affection to me, Vow'd he did love me; love me bove all women, And to confirme his heart was truely mine, He wish'd, I tremble to remember it, When he forsooke his Polidora's love, That Heaven might kill his happinesse on earth: Was not this nobly said, did not this promise A truth to shame the Turtles? And his heart Is still the same, and I thy coustant Lover. Give me your leave I pray, I would not say Arcadus was perjur'd, but the same day Forgetting all his promises, and oathes, While yet they hung upon his lips, for sooke me, Dee not remember this too, gave his faith From me, transported with the noyse of greatnesse, And would be marryed to a Kingdome. But heaven permitted not I should dispose What was ordain'd for thee. It was not vertue In him, for sure he found no checke, no sting In his owne bosome, but gave freely all The reines to blind ambition. I am wounded, The thought of thee ith' throng of all my yes, Like poyson powr'd in Nectar, turnes me franticke, Deare, if Arcadius have made a fault, Let not Demetrius be punishd for't, He pleads that ever will be constant to thee. Shall I beleeve mans flatteries agen, Lose my sweete rest, and peace of thought agen, Be drawne by you, from the streight paths of vertue Into the maze of Love. I see compassion in thy eye, that chides me If I have either soule, but what's containd Within these words▪ or if one sillable Of their full force, e not made good by me, May all relenting thoughts in you take end, And thy disdaine be doubled, from thy pardon, Ile count my Coronation, and that houre Fix with a rubricke in my Calender, As an auspicious time to entertaine Affaires of weight with Princes, thinke who now Intreates thy mercy, come thou sha't be kinde, And divide titles with me Heare me sir, I lov'd you once for vertue, and havē not A thought so much unguarded as to be wonne From my truth, and innocence with any Motives of state to affect you, Your bright temptation mournes while it staies here Nor can the triumph of glory, which made you Forget me, so court my opinion backe, Were you no King, I should be sooner drawne Againe to love you, but tis now too late, A low obedience shall become me best▪ May all the joyes I want Still waite on you, if time hereafter tell you That sorrow for your fault hath strucke me dead, May one soft teare drop from your eye, in ty Bedew my hearse, and I shall sleepe secuely I have but one word more for goodnesse sake, For your owne honour sir correct your passion To her you shall love next, and I forgive you.