Whetstone, George · published 1578 · first performed or written 1578 [1576-1579] (Annals) comedy · Unacted T4 Love-longing and the lover's complaint typicality 0.86 · 488 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T4: love, heart, sweet, loves, fair, phillis, eyes, beauty, amyntas, lovers.
So that (fair dames) from such consent, my accydents of barm, Forewarneth you, to keep aloof though love your hearts do arm, But ah Polina, whether runs thy words into advise, When others harms, enforced by love, could never make thee wise. The cause is plain, for that in love, no reason stands in stude, And reason is the only mean, that others harms we dread. Then, that the world hereafter may, to love infer my ill, Andrugio's Tomb with daily tears, Polina worship will. And further more I vowed, whilst life in me doth foster breath, No one shall vaunt of conquered love, by my Andrugio's death, These shameful weeds, which forced I were that men my fault may know: Whilst that I live, shall show I morn for my Andrugio, I will not bide the sharp assaults, from sugared words I sent. I will not trust to careless oaths, which often win consent: I will cut off occasions all, which hope of mirth may move, With ceaseless tears I'll quench each cause, the kindleth coals of love: And thus till death Polina will estrange herself from joy, Andrugio, to reward thy love which did thy life destroy. A Sir, in faith, the case is altered quite, My mistress late that lived in wretched plight: Bids care adieu and every cause of woe, The feare is fled, which made her sorrow so, Mas Phallax so vnder props her fame, As none for life dare now her lewdness blame, I fear (nay hope) she hath bewitched him so, As half his bribes, unto her share will go: Not force for that, who others doth deceive, Deserves himself, like measure to receive. Well, leave I Lamia, for herself to pray, Better than I can show, who knows the way: It stands me on, for my poor self to shift, And I have found a help at a dead lift: My old friend Grimbals purse, with pence is full, And if I empty it not, Dalia will. The slavering fool, what he can rap and rend, (He loves her so) upon the filth will spend: But by your leave, I'll bar her of this match, My net and all is set, the fool to catch. Forsooth before his amorous suit he move, He must be trimmed to make her more to love. And in good sooth, the world shall hardly fall, But that he shallbe washed, pould, shaved and all: And see the luck, the fool is fast I know, In that with Rowke he doth so sadly go. God bores, as sayst, when somewhat handsome ch'am, I faith she will come off for very shame: Yea without doubt for I swear by saint Anne: Myself loves you, you are so clean a young man. Nay, thou wilt say so, when my face is fair washed, Good luck a God's name, the woodcock is mashed. And who barbs ye Grimball.
seed 43: T2 · seed 44: T3 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
So that (fayre dames) from ſuch conſent, my accydents of barme, Forewarneth you, to kéepe aloofe though loue your harts do arme, But ah Polina, whether runnes thy words into aduiſe, When others harmes, inforſt by loue, could neuer make thée wiſe. The cauſe is plaine, for that in loue, no reaſon ſtands in ſtude, And reaſon is the onely meane, that others harmes we dreade. Then, that the world hereafter may, to loue inferre my yll, Andrugios Tombe with dayly teares, Polina worſhip wyll. And further more I vowde, whylſt life in mée doth foſter breth, No one ſhall vaunt of conquered loue, by my Andrugios death, Theſe ſhameful weedes, which forſt I were that men my fault may know: Whilſt that I liue, ſhall ſhow I morne for my Andrugio, I wyll not byde the ſharpe aſſaultes, from ſugred words I ſent. I wyll not truſt to careles othes, which often wyn conſent: I wyll cut off occaſions all, which hope of myrth may moue, With ceaſeles teares yle quench each cauſe, ye kindleth coles of loue: And thus tyl death Polina wyll eſtraunge her ſelfe from ioy, Andrugio, to reward thy loue which dyd thy life deſtroy. A Syr, in fayth, the caſe is altred quight, My miſtris late that liued in wretched plight: Byds care adue and euery cauſe of woe, The fee is fled, which made her ſorrow ſo, Maſ Phallax ſo vnder props her fame, As none for lyfe dare now her lewdnes blame, I feare (nay hope) ſhe hath bewicht him ſo, As haulfe his brybes, vnto her ſhare will goe: No force for that, who others doth deceyue, Deſerues himſelfe, lyke meaſure to receyue. Well, leaue I Lamia, for her ſelfe to pray, Better then I can ſhowe, who knowes the way: It ſtands me on, for my poore ſelfe to ſhyfte, And I haue founde a helpe at a dead lyfte: My ould friende Grimbals purce, with pence is full, And if I empty it not, Dalia wull. The ſlauering foole, what he can rap and rend, (He loues her ſo) vpon the fylth wyll ſpend: But bye your leaue, yle barre her of this match, My net and all is ſet, the foole to catch. Forſooth before his amorous ſute he moue, He muſt be trimd to make her more to loue. And in good ſooth, the world ſhal hardly fall, But that he ſhalbe waſht, pould, ſhau'd and all: And ſée the luck, the foole is faſt I know, In that with Rowke he doth ſo ſadly goe. God bores, as ſayſt, when ſomewhat handſome ch'am, I fayth ſhe wyll come off for very ſhame: Yea without doubt for I ſweare by ſaynt Anne: My ſelfe loues you, you are ſo cleane a young man. Nay, thou woult ſay ſo, when my face is fayre waſht, Good luck a Gods name, the wodcocke is maſht. And who Barbes ye Grimball.