Renaissance Drama — Topics · seed 42

The Arcadia · chunk 3 of 36

Shirley, James · published 1640 · first performed or written 1640 (Annals)
pastoral; romance · Queen Henrietta Maria's Men · Phoenix/Cockpit
unassigned nearest T22 Shepherds, flocks and Pan · 497 words

← previous chunkall chunks of this editionnext chunk →

Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T22: shepherd, pan, shepherds, love, sheep, flocks, fair, shepherdess, swain, away.

There's a lightning yet Of comfort, happiest Lady I will study. How to be worthy of this grace, You are expected at the pastorals We take our leaves my Lord again beseeching Your pardon for our boldness to reduce you To your own sphere of greatness Do you continue Faithful to your employments, and deserve of us And of your Country; come Zelmane There are some sports which you must grace I wait a servant to your commands Come sweet Zelmane Come sweetest of thy sex 'tis pity nature. Made thee not a man, this compliment Would then become you Mopsa you are to coy in my opinion Though I confess your beauty may deserve As much as any; Dorus though he be Your father's servant, he's a handsome shepherd And not to be despised. Despised, cannot a virgin love a young man I pray but she must despise him. You should then with some smiles encourage him. Smoyles, let me alone to smile, and something else when we are alone; if I thought he did not love me, I know What I know Alas poor man he cannot sleep for you he says, Nay and I were a-bed with him he should not sleep so long as his eyes were open, I'd watch him for that, but do you think my father would let us couple in matrimony as they say, he has never a son but I and I am his only daughter. Make no scruple of that, if you can find in your heart to love him, in the name of Cupid go together, for aught I perceive your father holds a good opinion of him, marry I know not how your mother is inclined Whoop my mother's a scold Here's your sweet heart, Look you make much of him, poor Gentleman How love is able to transport, who could Expect so rich a guest in that poor dwelling Oh howe'er the winds compel him, or the stream Into whose troubled waves he has launched forth This way he steers his love, yet I seem ignorant. My dearest Mopsa dear; I never cost you anything I know not At what expense of fortunes were I able I should be willing to make purchase of you But I'm sure you have already cost my heart And yet I find yours made of Marble Which neither pity nor my prayers can soften, Sweet Madam plead for me, one gracious word From you would make me happy, let one beam Shoot from your eye, and it will strike a spring Into that frozen piece of earth, and make it A bower for love to sport in, 'tis in you To unarm her noble heart, there's too much steel And gentle love in vain attempts to fasten The softer blows. Mopsa take heed, your Shepherd can speak well And if he be honest Menalcus' brother And heir, I know no reason why you should Think scorn of him.
← previous chunkall chunks of this editionnext chunk →

Details

Metadata, position in the edition, topic in the other seeds
PlayThe Arcadia
AuthorShirley, James
Publication year (edition)1640
First performance / composition (Annals)1640
First performance (BritDrama)1635 [summer] [1630-1636]
Company (BritDrama)Queen Henrietta Maria's Men
TheaterPhoenix/Cockpit;Indoor Professional
Genre (British Drama)pastoral; romance
Play typeAdult Professional;Professional
Edition / TCP / DEEPedition 1136 · TCP A12149 · DEEP 966
Edition roleRepresentative edition — used in the analysis
Positionnodes 141–196 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 3 of 36 in this edition
Length497 words · 599 tokens
Topic (seed 42)unassigned by HDBSCAN · nearest topic T22 — Shepherds, flocks and Pan at 0.729
Other seedsseed 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)
Theres a lightening yet Of comsort, happiest Lady I will study. How to be worthy of this grace, You are expected at the pastoralls We take our leaves my Lord againe beseeching Your pardon for our bouldnesse to reduce you To your owne spheare of greatnes Doe you continue Faithfull to your employments, and deserve of us And of your Country; come Zelmane There are some sports which you must grace I waite a servant to your commands Come sweete Zelmane Come sweetest of thy sex Tis pittie nature. Made thee not a man, this complement Would then become you Mopsa you are to coy in my opinion Tho I confesse your beauty may deserve As much as any; Dorus tho he be Your fathers servant, hee's a hansome shepheard And not to be dispised. Dispised, cannot a virgin love a young man I pray but she must dispise him. You should then with some smiles encourage him. Smoyles, let me alone to smoile, and something else when we are alone; if I thought he did not love me, I know What I know Alas poore man he cannot sleepe for you he saies, Nay and I were a bed with him he should not sleepe so long as his eyes were open, I'de watch him for that, but doe you thinke my father would let us couple in matrimony as they say, he has never a sonne but I and I am his onely daughter. Make no scruple of that, if you can finde in your heart to love him, in the name of upid goe together, for ought I perceive your father houlds a good opinion of him, marry I know not how your mother is inclinde Whoope my mothers a scould Heres your sweete heart▪ Looke you make much of him, poore Gentleman How love is abie to transport, who could Expect so rich a guest in that poore dwelling Oh how ere the windes compell him, or the streame Into whose troubled waves he has launch'd forth This way he steeres his love, yet I seeme ignorant. My deerest Mopsa Deere; I never cost you anything I know not At what expence of fortunes were I able I should be willing to make purchase of you But I'me sure you have already cost my heart And yet I find yours made of Marble Which neither pitty nor my prayers can soften, Sweete Madam pleade for me, one gracious word From you would make me happie, let one beame Shoot fro your eye, and it will strike a spring Into that frozen peece of earth, and make it A bower for love to spo in, 'tis in you To unarme her noble heart, there's too much steele And gentle love in vaine attempts to fasten The softer blowes. Mopsa take heed, your Shepheard can speake well And if he be honest Menalcus brother And heire, I know no reason why you should Thinke scorne of him.