The Sad Shepherd, or A Tale of Robin Hood · chunk 18 of 19
Jonson, Ben · published 1641 · first performed or written 1637 [c.1612-1637] (Annals) not in BritDrama unassigned nearest T12 Olympian gods: Jupiter, Juno, Venus and · 486 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T12: iupiter, saturn, iuno, venus, gods, mars, earth, titan, love, fair.
How sad, and wild his thoughts are! gone? But she, as chaste, as was her name, Earine, Died undeflowred; and now her sweet soul hovers, Here, in the Air, above us; and doth haste To get up to the Moon, and Mercury; And whisper Venus in her Orb, than spring Up to old Saturn, and come down by Mars, Consulting Jupiter; and seat herself Just in the midst with Phoebus; tempering all The jarring Spheres, and giving to the World Again, his first and tuneful planetting! O' what an age will here be of new concord's! Delightful harmony! to rock old Sages, Twice infants, in the Cradle o'Speculation, And throw a silence upon all the creatures! A Cogitation of the highest rapture! The loudest Seas, and most enraged Winds Shall loose their clangor; Tempest shall grow hoarse; Loud Thunder dumb; and every speece of storm Laid in the lap of listening Nature, hushed; To hear the changed chime of this eighth spheere! Take tent, and hearken for it, lose it not. O, here is Karol! was not that the sad Shep'erd, slipped from him? Yes, I guess it was: Who was that left you, Karol? The last man! Whom, we shall never see himself again; Or ours, I fear! He starts away from hand, so, And all the touches, or soft stroke of reason! Ye can apply. No Colt is so unbroken! Or hawk yet half so haggard, or unmanned! He takes all toys that his wild phantsy proffers, And flies away with them. He now conceives That my lost Sister, his Earine, Is lately turned a Sphere amid the seven: And reads a Musique-Lecture to the Planets! And with this thought, he's run to call 'em, Hearers▪ Alas, this is a strained, but innocent fantasy! I'll follow him, and found him, if I can: Mean time, go you with Lionel, sweet Karol, He will acquaint you with an accident Which much desires your presence, on the place! What is it, Lionel, wherein I may serve you? Why do you so surveyed, and circumscribe me? As if you stuck one Eye into my breast, And with the other took my whole dimensions? I wish you had a windo' i' your bosom Or ' i your back: I might look through you, And see your inparts, Karol, liver, heart; For there the seat of Love is. Whence the Boy (The winged Archer) hath shot home a shaft Into my sister's breast, the innocent Amie, Who now cries out, upon her bed, on Karol, Sweet singing Karol! the delicious Karol! That kissed her like a Cupid! In your eyes, She says, his stand is! and between your lipp's He runs forth his divisions, to her ears, But will not bide there, less yourself do bring him Go with me Karol, and bestow a visit In charity, upon the afflicted Maid, Who pineth with the languor of your love.
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)
How ſad, and wild his thoughts are! gone? But ſhee, as chaſte, as was her name, Earine, Dy'd undeflowr'd; and now her ſweet ſoule hovers, Here, in the Aire, above us; and doth haſte To get up to the Moone, and Mercury; And whiſper Venus in her Orbe, then ſpring Up to old Saturne, and come downe by Mars, Conſulting Jupiter; and ſeate her ſelfe Juſt in the midſt with Phoebus; tempring all The jarring Spheeres, and giving to the World Againe, his firſt and tunefull planetting! O' what an age will here be of new concords! Delightfull harmonie! to rock old Sages, Twice infants, in the Cradle o'Speculation, And throw a ſilence upon all the creatures! A Cogitation of the higheſt rapture! The loudeſt Seas, and moſt enraged Windes Shall loſe their clangor; Tempeſt ſhall grow hoarſe; Loud Thunder dumbe; and every ſpeece of ſtorme Laid in the lap of liſtning Nature, huſht; To heare the changed chime of this eighth ſpheere! Take tent, and harken for it, looſe it not. O', here is Karol! was not that the ſad Shep'erd, ſlip'd from him? Yes, I gheſſe it was: Who was that left you, Karol? The laſt man! Whom, wee ſhall never ſee himſelfe againe; Or ours, I feare! He ſtarts away from hand, ſo, And all the touches, or ſoft ſtroke of reaſon! Yee can applie. No Colt is ſo unbroken! Or hawke yet halfe ſo haggard, or unmann'd! He takes all toies that his wild phantſy proffers, And flies away with them. He now conceives That my loſt Siſter, his Earine, Is lately turn'd a Sphere amid the ſeven: And reades a Muſique-Lecture to the Planets! And with this thought, hee's run to cal 'hem, Hearers▪ Alas, this is a ſtrayn'd, but innocent phant'ſie! Ile follow him, and find him, if I can: Meane time, goe you with Lionell, ſweet Karol, Hee will acquaint you with an accident Which much deſires your preſence, on the place! What is it, Lionell, wherein I may ſerve you? Why doe you ſo ſurvey, and circumſcribe mee? As if you ſtuck one Eye into my breſt, And with the other took my whole dimenſions? I wiſh you had a windo' i' your boſome Or 'i your back: I might look thorough you, And ſee your in-parts, Karol, liver, heart; For there the ſeat of Love is. Whence the Boy (The winged Archer) hath ſhott home a ſhaft Into my ſiſters breſt, the innocent Amie, Who now cries out, upon her bed, on Karol, Sweet ſinging Karol! the delicious Karol! That kiſt her like a Cupid! In your eyes, Shee ſaies, his ſtand is! and between your lipp's He runs forth his diviſions, to her eares, But will not bide there, leſſe your ſelfe do bring him Goe with me Karol, and beſtow a viſit In charitie, upon the afflicted Maid, Who pineth with the languor of your love.