Shirley, James · published 1640 · first performed or written 1640 (Annals) not in BritDrama · Ogilby's Men unassigned nearest T4 Love-longing and the lover's complaint · 489 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T4: love, heart, sweet, loves, fair, phillis, eyes, beauty, amyntas, lovers.
Love, art thou in love Rodamant? nay then thou may'st Talk treason or any thing. Folly and madness are lash free, and may ride cheek by jowl with a judge. But dost thou know what love is, thou one of Cupid's overgrown monkeys? Come, crack me this nut of love, and take the maggot for thy labour. Prithee do thou say what 'tis. No, I will sing a piece of my mind, and love to thee. Love is a bog, a deep bog, a wide bog. Love is a clog, a great clog, a close clog. 'Tis a wilderness to lose ourselves, A halter 'tis to noose ourselves. Then draw Dun out o'th' mire: And throw the clog into the fire. Keep in the Kings high way, And sober you cannot stray. If thou admire no female else, The balter may go bang itself. Drink wine and be merry, for love is a folly: And dwells in the house of melancholy. 'Tis such a merry baboon, and shoots quills like a Porcupine, but who's this? 'Tis he, I know him by instinct. Patrick welcome to this I'll, See how every thing doth smile: To thy staff and thy mitre, And Lawn that is whiter. And every shaven crown a welcome welcome to town. Look where the King, and Queen do greet thee: Prince sons are come to meet thee. And see where a paire is, of very fine Eares. Prepared too, That thou may'st report, thy welcome to Court, And the Bard too, And so pray father give me your blessing. I thank thee courteous Bard, thy heart is honest. But to the King my duty. Welcome Patrick, For so thou call'st thyself; we have thrown off Our anger: and with calm, and melting eyes Look on thee. Thou hast piety, to forgive Our former threats and language, and to satisfy. For our denial of some humble cottages, Against the hospitable laws of nature. We give thee now our Palace, use it freely. myself, our Queen and children, will be all Thy guests: and owe our dwellings to thy favour. There are some things of venerable mark Upon thy brow, thou art some holy man, Designed by providence to make us happy: Again, most welcome to us. His aspect Doth promise goodness: Welcome. To us all. If this be hearty, heaven will not permit Your charity's unrewarded. I am weary Of these dull compliments, Archimagus. I am prepared, I know your blood's a longing, To change embraces with Emeria. Receive this, which worn upon your Arm, is so by power of magic fortified, You shall go where you please invisible, Until you take it off: Go to your Mistress. Softly my dear Archimagus; the rest Speak in a whisper; I shall be jealous of The intelligencing air. You may be confident Our favour spreads to all. But where is Dichu Your Convert? we'll receive him to our grace too.
seed 43: T2 · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Love, art thou in love Rodamant? nay then thou may'st Talke treason or any thing. Folly and madnesse are lah free, an may ride cheeke by joll with a judge. But dost thou know wha love is, thou one of Cupids overgrowne monkies? Come, crack me this nut of love, and take the maggot for thy labour. Preethee do thou say what 'tis. No, I will sing a piece of my minde, and love to thee. Love is a bog, a deep bog, a wide bog. Love is a clog, a great clog, a close clog. 'Tis a wildernesse to loose our selves, A halter 'tis to nooze our selves. Then draw Dun out o'th mire: And throw the clog into the fire. Keepe in the Kings high way, And sober you cannot stray. If thou admire no female else, The balter may go bang it selfe. Drink wine and be merry, for love is a folly: And dwells in the house of mellancholly. 'Tis such a merry baboone, and shootes quills like a Porcupine, but who's this? 'Tis he, I know him by instinct. Patricke welcome to this Ile, See how every thing doth smile: To thy staffe and thy miter, And Lawne that is whiter. And every shaven crowne a welcome welcome to towne. Looke where the King, and Queene doe greete thee: H Princoly sonnes are come to meete thee. And see where a paire is, of very fine Eares. Prepar'd too, That thou may'st report, thy welcome to Court, And the Bard too, And so pray father give me your . I thank thee courteous Bard, thy heart is honest. But to the King my dutie. Welcome Patrick, For so thou cal'st thy self; we have throwne off Our anger: and with calme, and melting eyes Looke on thee. Thou hast piety, to forgive Our former threats and language, and to satisfie. For our deniall of some humble cottages, Against the hospitable lawes of nature. We give thee now our Palace, use it freely. My selfe, our Queene and children, will be all Thy guests: and owe our dwellings to thy favour. There are some things of venerable mark Upon thy brow, thou art some holy man, Design'd by providence to make us happy: Agen, most welcome to us. His aspect Doth promise goodnes: Welcome. To us all. If this be heartie, heaven will not permit Your charities unrewarded. I am weary Of these dull complements, Archimagus. I am prepar'd, I know your bloud's a longing, To change embraces with Emeria. Receive this, which worne upon your Arme, is so by power of magicke fortified, You shall goe where you please invisible, Untill you take it off: Goe to your Mistres. Softly my deere Archimagus; the rest Speake in a whisper▪ I shall be jealous of The intelligencing aire. You may be confident Our favour spreads to all▪ But where is Dichu Your Convert? wee'l receive him to our grace too.