Shirley, James · published 1640 · first performed or written 1640 (Annals) pastoral; romance · Queen Henrietta Maria's Men · Phoenix/Cockpit unassigned nearest T1 Death, grief and revenge · 474 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
Still your servant Gynoecia. I cannot rule my eyes they will betray My cunning to Gynoecia if she go not Hence quickly How is it with my virtuous Amazon? Philoclea Let her alone, they have some business sweet What business can they have together? Why art thou troubled, thou wouldst be jealous Of me I see, were I in private with her, Come let 'em alone a while Stay you and spare not I would employ Philoclea You shall obey me now, I prithee walk My father sweet Zelmane to whose command I owe my life First let me give my life Up to these lips, and take a new one from This kiss, oh dear Philoclea contain All other breath I know thy father's mind Already, and must now beseech thy patience To a short story which I must deliver Or die before thee, if it be within My destiny to be condemned by you At least know whom you sentence; I am What? I fear not well Cannot your eyes discover me, have I a shroud To hide me from Philoclea? did the kiss I gave thee last convey no secret to thee? There was a spirit in my lip assured me. To save the tedious trouble of my language. I heard it whisper something, did it not? I would be fain undone Good heaven forbid You won't understand me yet Philoclea Then I'll undo myself, I am not what I seem Zelmane; but— What? A thing not worth the name, if you frown on me, a man A man, good heaven— I have told you all the worst If it be no offence to name a prince Whose memory your own breath oft hath sweetened I dare be called Pyrocles of Macedon Transformed by loving your fair self to this Feminine shape, if now I have not sinned Above forgiveness. Oh Philoclea Come not too near I charge you; I would chide. But dare not, would you had not told me this Indeed you were to blame, I must not hear you Excuse yourself She must not leave me thus But she returns I have lost myself already, And love is but a blind guide to direct My virgin steps, I fain would reply something But feel a trembling in my voice, Zelmane My father, what account shall I give him I have said nothing he commanded She smiles My Lord I see you can use the advantage And I did arm you against myself; I did not Think when I advised you make Philoclea Your advocate, she could so much have won Upon me, but my counsel has betrayed me, Pray think me not immodest, if my words Do fall too rudely from me, your fair daughter Whose tongue would lay a charm upon the gods, Hath gained all this.
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)
Still your servant Gynecia. I cannot rule my eyes they will betray My cunning to Gynecia if she goe not Hence quickly How is it with my vertuous Amazon? Philoclea Let her alone, they have some busines sweete What busines can they have together? Why art thou troubled, thou would'st be jealous Of me I see, were I in privat with her, Come let 'em alone a while Stay you and spare not I would imploy Philoclea You shall obay me now, I prithee walke My father sweete Zelmane to whose command I owe my life First let me give my life Vp to these lips, and take a new one from This kisse, oh deere Philoclea containe All other breath I know thy fathers minde Already, and must now beseech thy patience To a short story which I must deliver Or dy before thee, if it be within My desteny to be condem'd by you At least know whom you sentence; I am What? I feare not well Cannot your eyes discover me, have I a shrowd To hide me from Philoclea? did the kisse I gave thee last convey no secret to thee? There was a spirit in my lip assur'd me. To save the tedious trouble of my language. I heard it whisper something, did it not? I would be fraine undone Good heaven forbid You wonot understand me yet Philoclea Then Ile undoe my selfe, I am not what I seeme Zelmane; but— What? A thing not worth the name, if you frowne on me, a man A man, good heaven I have tould you all the worst If it be no offence to name a prince Whose memory your owne breath oft hath sweeten'd I dare be call'd Pyroclos of Macedon Transform'd by loving your faire selfe to this Feminine shape, if now I have not sinn'd Above forgivenes. Oh Philoclea Come not too neere I charge you; I would chide. But dare not, would you had not tould me this Indeed you were to blame, I must not heare you Excuse your selfe She must not leave me thus But she returnes I have lost my selfe already, And love is but a blinde guide to direct My virgin steps, I faine would reply something But feele a tremblinge in my voyce, Zelmane My father, what account shall I give him I have said nothinge he commanded She smiles My Lord I see you can use the advantage And I did arme you against my selfe; I did not Thinke when I advis'd you make Philoclea Your advocate, she could so much have wonne Vpon me, but my counsell has betray'd me, Pray thinke me not immodest, if my words Doe fall too rudely from me, your faire daughter Whose tongue would lay a charme uppon the gods, Hath gain'd all this.