Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T4: love, heart, sweet, loves, fair, phillis, eyes, beauty, amyntas, lovers.
Oh my Cnemon, My pretty boy, more dear than my own life, How I lament thy chance and my mishap. Comfort yourself dear mistress I beseech you. Peace fool, my grief is more than can be cured By any words of comfort, no man knows What a sharp corrosive it was to my heart, More fervent is my love now he is absent. Fie, fie, forget him, think upon his pride And high disdain against you, think he doth Deserve this punishment and greater too. How ready thou art Thisbe to do mischief, Thou art the fire brand that hast kindled this Combustion in my heart, thou hast not been A help unto me, but a hindrance In the fruition of my love, by thee And by thy means I have lost my only joy, And yet for all this thou dost still incense me To run on in this way; most wicked wretch. Well I perceive your mind, she thinks to make me Support the fury of her frantic fits, But I shall overreach you sure in wit, And lay the saddle on the right horse back, Why do you thus accuse your trusty servant? You know I did but what I was commanded, Nor ere did any thing without your warrant, If this thing happened not as you would have it, Ascribe it not to any fault in me, But rather, as you justly may, to fortune; If you will have me yet devise some way To remedy your present grief and sorrow, You shall perceive how ready my good will Shall be at your commands. What remedy Can possibly be found, since he that can Ease me, and none but he, is separated At such a distance from me? and besides Th'unhoped for lenity of those which gave Sentence against him hath destroyed my hopes. I would he had suffered death, for then in me Had quenched been the flames of burning love. Hope that is past removes grief from the heart, And when despair possesseth troubled minds They intermit all sorrow building on Th'impossibility of their enjoying; But as it is methinks I see and hear Cnemon complaining of my cruelty, And how by unjust guiles I did ensnare him; Sometimes methinks he comes to me as if I should enjoy him, other times I bend My course to him where ere he lives remote; These things inflame me, these things make me mad, But O ye gods, I have as I deserve; Why did I not with good will seek to win him Rather than by deceit and craft compel him? Why did I not most humbly sue unto him Rather than wrong him like an enemy? It may be at the first he did deny me For maiden modesty, and fear to foul His father's sheets, but had I persevered Unto the end, he might have been allured To condescend by fair means to my will; But O my Thisbe tell me, tell me quickly What remedy is that thou wouldst devise For me and sayst is easy?
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)
Oh my Cnemon, My prettie boy, more deere then my owne life, How I lament thy chance and my miſhap. Comfort your ſelfe deere miſtris I beſeech you. Peace foole, my griefe is more then can be cur'd By any words of comfort, no man knowes What a ſharpe corſive it was to my heart, More fervent is my love now he is abſent. Fie, fie, forget him, thinke upon his pride And high diſdaine againſt you, thinke he doth Deſerve this puniſhment and greater too. How readie thou art Thisbe to doe miſchiefe, Thou art the fire brand that haſt kindled this Combuſtion in my heart, thou haſt not beene A helpe unto me, but a hinderance In the fruition of my love, by thee And by thy meanes I hve loſt my onely joy, And yet for all this thou doſt ſtill incenſe me To run on in this way; moſt wicked wretch. Well I perceive your mind, ſhe thinkes to make me Support the fury of her franticke fits, But I ſhall overreach you ſure in wit, And lay the ſaddle on the right horſe backe, Why do you thus accuſe your truſty ſervant? You know I did but what I was commanded, Nor ere did any thing without your warrant, If this thing happen'd not as you would have it, Aſcribe it not to any fault in me, But rther, as you juſtly may, to fortune; If you will have me yet deviſe ſome way To remedy your preſent griefe and ſorrow, You ſhall perceive how ready my good will Shall be at your commands. What remedy Can poſſibly be found, ſince he that can Eaſe me, and none but he, is ſeparated At ſuch a diſtance from me? and beſides Th'unhop'd for lenity of thoſe which gave Sentence againſt him hath deſtroyd my hopes. I would he had ſuffered death, for then in me Hd quenched beene the flames of burning love. Hope that is paſt removes griefe from the heart, And when deſpaire poſſeſſeth troubled minds They inermit all ſorrow building on Th'impoſſibility of their enjoying; But as it is methinkes I ſee and heare Cnemon complayning of my cruelty, And how by unjuſt guiles I did enſnare him; Sometimes me thinks he comes to me as if I ſhould enjoy him, othertimes I bend My courſe to him where ere he lives remote; Theſe things enflame me, theſe things make me mad, But O ye gods, I have as I deſerve; Why did I not with good will ſeeke to win him Rather then by deceit and craft compell him? Why did I not moſt humbly ſue unto him Rather then wrong him like an enemy? It may be at the firſt he did deny me For maiden modeſty, and feare to foule His fathers ſheets, but had I perſever'd Unto the end, he might have beene allur'd To condeſcend by faire meanes to my will; But O my Thisbe tell me, tell me quickly What remedy is that thou wouldſt deviſe For me and ſaiſt is eaſie?