Shirley, James · published 1640 · first performed or written 1640 (Annals) not in BritDrama · Ogilby's Men unassigned nearest T21 Cupid, Venus and the nymphs · 507 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T21: cupid, venus, love, ceres, diana, fair, nymphs, goddess, bow, damon.
Not, but with those They mean especial grace to, such as they know must hereafter shine above with them, though merely mortals, are adored; and seldom visit the world, hid thus in flesh and blood, which we at pleasure can assume, and have desires like you, and have our passions too, can love, ay, and enjoy where we will place the happiness, else we had less than men. I thought the powers above had been all honest. 'Tis in them chastity, nor is it sin In those we love to meet wit active flames, And be glad mothers to immortal issues: How oft hath Jove, who justly is adored, Left heaven, to practise love with such a fair one? The Sun, for one embrace of Daphne, would Have pawned his beams: not one, but hath sometimes Descended, to make fruitful weak Mortality. Oh, if thou couldst but reach, Emeria, With thy imagination, what delight, What flowing ecstasies of joy we bring Your sex, made nice and cold by winter laws Of man, that freeze the blood, thou wouldst be fond To my embraces, and petition me To bless thee with a rape, yet I woo thy Consent. Away: Thou art no god sure, but Some vicious Impostor: Can a Deity Breath so much impious language, and reward Virtue with shame? Take heed, and do not value thyself by rash and froward opposition; Know, I can make thee nothing, at a breath. Better be so, than made so foul a being. Nay then, what should have been with thy consent a blessing, shall now only serve my pleasure, and I will take the forfeit of thy coldness. Oh help, some man, I dare not call upon the gods; for they are wicked grown, oh help. I shall need none, thou thing of disobedience, thou art now within my power of love, or fury: yield, or I ll force thee into postures shall make pleasure weep, and hurl thee into wantonness. Who's with the Queen, my prisoner? The Prince Conallus came to visit her. So: bid my daughter Emeria come hither, She's come very melancholy from the Court, Under pretence to wait upon the Queen here. Still sad; come, I must have your face look otherwise, Dress it in smiles: I hope you put not on This sorrow for the Queen, she is a traitor To the King, and to the gods. A traitor, Sir! Oh do not say so; 'tis, I hear, for nothing, But looking on the stranger Patrick with Some pity. It will not run Out of my thought; but this is the same Patrick That was my slave once, he was a Briton too: I know not how, he found some treasure then To buy his liberty: were he again My slave, no gold should buy him from my swine, Whose once companion he was: Emeria, D'ye hear? Conallus, the young Prince is come To see his mother; use him gently, girl: Come, I have heard he does affect thee, ha? He may be King.
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)
Not, but with those They meane especiall grace to, such as they know must hereafter shine above with them, though meerly mortals, are ador'd; and seldome visit the world, hid thus in flesh and bloud, which wee at pleasure can assume, and have desires like you, and have our passions too, can love, I, and enjoy where wee will place the happinesse, else we had lesse than men. I thought the powers above had beene all honest. 'Tis in them chastitie, nor is it sin In those we love to meet wit active flames, And be glad mothers to immortall issues: How oft hath Jove, who justly is ador'd, Left heaven, to practise love with such a faire one? The Sun, for one embrace of Daphne, would Have pawn'd his beames: not one, but hath sometimes Descended, to make fruitfull weake Mortalitie. Oh, if thou could'st but reach, Emeria, With thy imagination, what delight, What flowing extasies of joy we bring Your sex, made nice and cold by winter lawes Of man, that freeze the bloud, thou wood'st be fond To my embraces, and petition me To blesse thee with a rape, yet I woe thy Consent. Away: Thou art no god sure, but Some vicious Impostor: Can a Deitie Breath so much impious language, and reward Vertue with shame? Take heed, and doe not vae Thy selfe by rash and froward opposition; Know, I can make thee nothing, at a breath. Better be so, than made so foule a being. Nay then, what should have beene with thy consent a blessing, shall now only serve my pleasure, and I will take the forfeit of thy coldnesse. Oh help, some man, I dare not call upon the gods; for they are wicked growne, oh help. I shall need none, thou thing of disobedience, thou art now within my power of love, or furie: yeeld, or I ll force thee into postures shall make pleasure weep, and hurle thee into wantnnesse. Who's with the Queene, my prisoner? The Prince Conallus came to visit her. So: bid my daughter Emeria come hither, She's come verie melancholy from the Court, Under pretence to wait upon the Queene here. Still sad; come, I must have your face looke otherwise, Dresse it in smiles: I hope you put not on This sorrow for the Queene, she is a traytor To the King, and to the gods. A traytor, Sir! Oh doe not say so; 'tis, I heare, for nothing, But looking on the stranger Patrick with Some pitie. It will not run Out of my thought; but this is the same Patrick That was my slave once, he was a Brittan too: I know not how, he found some treasure then To buy his libertie: were he agen My slave, no gold should buy him from my swine, Whose once companion he was: Emeria, D'yee heare? Conallus, the young Prince is come To see his mother; use him gently, girle: Come, I have heard he does affect thee, ha? He may be King.