The Sad Shepherd, or A Tale of Robin Hood · chunk 1 of 19
Jonson, Ben · published 1641 · first performed or written 1637 [c.1612-1637] (Annals) not in BritDrama T22 Shepherds, flocks and Pan typicality 0.73 · 486 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T22: shepherd, pan, shepherds, love, sheep, flocks, fair, shepherdess, swain, away.
HE that hath feasted you these forty years, And fitted Fables, for your finer ears, Although at first, he scarce could hit the bore; Yet you, with patience hearkening more and more, At length have grown up to him, and made known, The Working of his Pen is now your own: He prays you would vouchsafe, for your own sake, To hear him this once more, but, sit awake. And though he now present you with such wool, As from mere English Flocks his Muse can pull, He hopes when it is made up into Cloth; Not the most curious head here will be loathe To wear a Hood of it; it being a Fleece, To match, or those of Sicily, or Greece. His Scene is Sherwood: i And his Play a Tale Of Robinhood's inviting from the Vale Of Be'voir, all the Shep'ards to a Feast: Where, by the casual absence of one Guest, The Mirth is troubled much, and in one Man As much of sadness shown, as Passion can. The sad young Shep'ard, whom we here present, Like his woes Figure, dark and discontent, For his lost Love; who in the Trent is said, To have miscarried; 'lasse! what knows the head Of a calm River, whom the feet have drowned? Hear what his sorrows are; and, if they wound Your gentle breasts, so that the End crown all, Which in the Scope of one day's chance may fall: Old Trent will sand you more such Tales as these, And shall grow young again, as one doth please. But here's an Heresy of late let fall; That Mirth by no means fits a Pastoral; Such say so, who can make none, he presumes: Else, there's no Scene, more properly assumes The Sock. For whence can sport in kind arise, But from the Rural Routs and Families? Safe on this ground than, we not fear to day, To tempt your laughter by our rustic Play. Wherein if we distaste, or be cried down, We think we therefore shall not leave the Town; Nor that the Fore-wits, that would draw the rest Unto their liking, always like the best. The wise, and knowing Critic will not say, This worst, or better is, before he weigh; Where every piece be perfect in the kind: And than, though in themselves he difference found, Yet if the place require it where they stood, The equal fitting makes them equal good. You shall have Love and Hate, and jealousy, As well as Mirth, and Rage, and Melancholy: Or whatsoever else may either move, Or stir affections, and your like prove. But that no stile for Pastoral should go Current, but what is stamped with Ah, and O; Who judgeth so, may singularly err; As if all Poesy had one Character: In which what were not written, were not right, Or that the man who made such one poor flight,
nodes 0–57 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 1 of 19 in this edition
Length
486 words · 637 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T22 — Shepherds, flocks and Pancross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.729 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
seed 43: T24 · seed 44: T25 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
HE that hath feaſted you theſe forty yeares, And fitted Fables, for your finer eares, Although at firſt, he ſcarce could hit the bore; Yet you, with patience harkning more and more, At length have growne up to him, and made knowne, The Working of his Pen is now your owne: He pray's you would vouchſafe, for your owne ſake, To heare him this once more, but, ſit awake. And though hee now preſent you with ſuch wooll, As from meere Engliſh Flocks his Muſe can pull, He hopes when it is made up into Cloath; Not the moſt curious head here will be loath To weare a Hood of it; it being a Fleece, To match, or thoſe of Sicily, or Greece. His Scene is Sherwood: i And his Play a Tale Of Robin-hood's inviting from the Vale Of Be'voir, all the Shep'ards to a Feaſt: Where, by the caſuall abſence of one Gueſt, The Mirth is troubled much, and in one Man As much of ſadneſſe ſhowne, as Paſsion can. The ſad young Shep'ard, whom wee here preſent, Like his woes Figure, darke and diſcontent, For his loſt Love; who in the Trent is ſaid, To have miſcarried; 'laſſe! what knowes the head Of a calme River, whom the feet have drown'd? Heare what his ſorrowes are; and, if they wound Your gentle breſts, ſo that the End crowne all, Which in the Scope of one dayes chance may fall: Old Trent will ſend you more ſuch Tales as theſe, And ſhall grow young againe, as one doth pleaſe. But here's an Hereſie of late let fall; That Mirth by no meanes fits a Paſtorall; Such ſay ſo, who can make none, he preſumes: Elſe, there's no Scene, more properly aſſumes The Sock. For whence can ſport in kind ariſe, But from the Rurall Routs and Families? Safe on this ground then, wee not feare to day, To tempt your laughter by our ruſtick Play. Wherein if we diſtaſte, or be cry'd downe, Wee thinke wee therefore ſhall not leave the Towne; Nor that the Fore-wits, that would draw the reſt Vnto their liking, alwayes like the beſt. The wiſe, and knowing Critick will not ſay, This worſt, or better is, before he weigh; Where every piece be perfect in the kind: And then, though in themſelves he difference find, Yet if the place require it where they ſtood, The equall fitting makes them equall good. You ſhall have Love and Hate, and Iealouſie, As well as Mirth, and Rage, and Melancholy: Or whatſoever elſe may either move, Or ſtirre affections, and your likings prove. But that no ſtile for Paſtorall ſhould goe Current, but what is ſtamp'd with Ah, and O; Who judgeth ſo, may ſingularly erre; As if all Poeſie had one Character: In which what were not written, were not right, Or that the man who made ſuch one poore flight,