The Constant Maid (Love Will Find Out the Way) · chunk 13 of 32
Shirley, James · published 1640 · first performed or written 1638 [1630(?)-1640] (Annals) not in BritDrama unassigned nearest T48 Addressing a lady: love, desire and inti · 478 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T48: lady, love, heart, fair, eyes, la, lord, tears, fie, face.
I have considered perfectly, and if You will vouchsafe me hearing, dare pour forth My heart, which, full of love, tenders itself To your acceptance; I acknowledge Lady, My passions are but young, for could I hope You should with so much favour look upon me? But may I credit this? But suspect were an injustice to my faith, which looks Upon your virtue with as much religion As love is able to receive; your age Hath struck a reverence into my eye; And what you want of youth and spring upon you, Your wisdom richly satisfies: Those characters Which time hath writ upon your careful forehead, Are but his virtue and your ornament, When it shall come to pass by your example, That youth shall be esteemed an infancy, And women never ripe for love or Marriage Without your age upon 'em; 'tis a fault, That men not guided by the tract of reason, But heat and wantonness of blood, run giddy To seal such weighty Covenants, better 'twere The world should end in our virginities, Than spin itself more length by inconsiderate And hasty marriages. Have you already Retrieved the affection that pursued my daughter? Shall I believe no seed of love remains, Which may grow up and ripen, with repentance For this exchange; I do allow you, sir, The consideration of my fortune, which Might of itself, incline you to accept me. That is but an attendant, as you use it, I must confess a welcome one; although The mind is the first beauty, which true love Aspires to, when 'tis waited on with person And estate, it comes with greater privilege To win upon's; I do not wish you, Lady, Rashly believe what I profess, but measure My service by the trial; I'll expect And write your smiles a competent reward, Till time and your command, demonstrate me; Although not equal to your full deservings, Yet one that has ambition to bethought Not too unworthy. And I guess ere long, Such an occasion will present itself. Till then, have Hartwell in your loving memory, Who wishes no more happiness of life, Than to be called yours. What have I understood? Will you believe me another time, sweet Lady? If I loved you not, what would become on you? It is not he, some devil does but cozen us, And mock our sense with these fantastic bodies, Hartwell. Nay 'tis the man; I hope you'll be converted, And think a Country Gentleman worth favour, That brought you to this knowledge; I deserve— My curses for this black discovery, whenas before 'twas not impossible, In time I might be brought to pity thee; Henceforth I'll look upon thee as my sins, And beg as much forgiveness that I knew thee. Nay d''ee but hear. Die quickly, and be forgotten. This is very fine i'faith, sweet Lady.
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 have considered perfectly, and if You will vouchsafe me hearing, dare poure forth My heart, which, full of love, tenders it selfe To your acceptance; I acknowledge Lady, My passions are but young, for could I hope You should with so much favour look upon me? But may I credit this? But suspect were an injustice to my faith, which lookes Upon your vertue with as much religion As love is able to receive; your age Hath strooke a reverence into my eye; And what you want of youth and spring upon you, Your wisedome richly satisfies: Those characters Which time hath writ upon your carefull forehead, Are but his vertue and your ornament, When it shall come to passe by your example, That youth shall be esteemed an infancy, And women never ripe for love or Marriage Without your age upon 'em; 'tis a fault, That men not guided by the tract of reason, But heat and wantonnesse of blood, run giddy To seale such weighty Covenants, better 'twere The world should end in our virginities, Than spin it selfe more length by inconsiderate And hasty marriages. Have you already Retriv'd the affection that pursu'd my daughter? Shall I beleeve no seed of love remains, Which may grow up and ripen, with repentance For this exchange; I do allow you, sir, The consideration of my fortune, which Might of it selfe, incline you to accept me. That is but an attendant, as you use it, I must confesse a welcome one; although The minde is the first beauty, which true loe Aspires to, when 'tis waited on with person And estate, it comes with greater priviledge To win upon's; I do not wish you, Lady, Rashly beleeve what I professe, but measure My service by the triall; I'll expect And write your smiles a competent reward, Till time and your command, demonstrate me; Although not equall to your full deservings, Yet one that has ambition to bethought Not too unworthy. And I ghsse ere long, Such an occasion will present it selfe. Till then, have Hartwell in your loving memory, Who wishes no more happinesse of life, Than to be call'd yours. What have I understood? Will you beleeve me another time, sweet Lady? If I loved you not, what would become on you? It is not he, some devill does but cozen us, And mock our sense with these phantastick bodies, Hartwell. Nay 'tis the man; I hope you'll be converted, And think a Countrey Gentleman worth favour, That brought you to this knowledg; I deserve— My curses for this black discovery, When as before 'twas not impossible, In time I might be brought to pity thee; Henceforth I'll look upon thee as my ins, And beg as much forgivenesse that I knew thee. Nay d'ee but hear. Die quickly, and be forgotten. This is very fine ifaith, sweet Lady.