Lyly, John · published 1584 · first performed or written c.1583 (Annals) comedy · Children of the Chapel (first) (Oxford's Boys) · before the Court T3 Sickness, physic and doctors typicality 0.69 · 495 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T3: doctor, master, cure, disease, pray, physic, physician, mr, sick, lady.
Ah Sibylla, I pray go on, that I may glut myself in this science. Thou shalt not surfeit Phao, whilst I diet thee. Flies that die on the honey suckle become poison to bees. A little in love is a great deal. But all that can be said not enough. White silver draweth black lines, and sweet words will breed sharp torments. What shall become of me? Go dare I go, Phao, thou canst but die, & then as good die with great desires, as pine in base fortunes. Sapho is fallen suddenly sick, I cannot guess the cause. Some cold belike, or else a woman's qualm. A strange nature of cold, to drive one into such an heat. Your Physic sir I think be of the second sort, else would you not judge it rare, that hot fevers are engendered by cold causes. Indeed Lady, I have no more Physic than will purge choler, and that if it please you, I will practise upon you. It is good for women that be waspish. Faith sir no, you are best purge your own melancholy: belike you are a male content. It is true, and are not you a female content. Soft, I am not content, that a male and Female content, should go together. Ismena is disposed to be merry. No, it is Pandion would feign seem wise. You shall not fall out? for Pigeons after biting fall to billing, and open jars make the closest jests. Mileta, Ismena, Mileta: Come away, my Lady is in a sown. ay me. Come, let us make haste. I am sorry for Sapho: because she will take no Physic, like you Pandion, who being sick of the sullens, will seek no friend. Of men we learn to speak, of Gods to hold our peace. Silence shall digest what folly hath swallowed, and wisdom wean what fancy hath nursed. Is it not love? If it were, what then? Nothing, but that I hope it be not. Why, in courts there is nothing more common. And as to be bald among the Micanyans it was accounted no shame, because they were all bald: so to be in love among courtiers it is no discredit: for that they are all in love. Why, what do you think of our Ladies? As of the Seres wool, which being whitest & softest, fretteth soon stand deepest. I will not tempt you in your deep Melancholy, lest you seem sour to those, which are so sweet. But come, let us walk a little into the fields, it may be the open air will disclose your close conceits. I will go with you: but send our pages away. What brown study art thou in Molus, no mirth? no life? I am in the depth of my learning driven to a muse, how this lent I shall scamble in the court, that was wont to fast so oft in the University. Thy belly is thy God.
nodes 218–251 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 14 of 27 in this edition
Length
495 words · 649 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T3 — Sickness, physic and doctorscross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.692 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
seed 43: T3 · seed 44: T4 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Ah Sybilla, I pray goe on, that I may glutte my selfe in this science. Thou shalt not surfette Phao, whilest I diet thee. Flyes that die on the honney suckle become poyson to bees. A little in loue is a great deale. But all that can be saide not enough. White siluer draweth blacke lines, and sweete wordes will breede sharpe tormentes. What shall become of mee? Goe dare I goe, Phao, thou canst but die, & then as good die with great desires, as pine in base fortunes. Sapho is falne sodenly sick, I cannot guesse the cause. Some colde belike, or els a womans qualme. A straunge nature of colde, to driue one into such an heate. Your Phisick sir I thinke be of the second sort, els would you not iudge it rare, that whot feuers are ingendred by cold causes. Indeede Lady, I haue no more Phisick then wil purge choller, and that if it please you, I will practise vppon you. It is good for women that be waspish. Fayth sir no, you are best purge your owne melancholy: belike you are a male content. It is true, and are not you a female content. Softe, I am not content, that a male and Female content, should go together. Ismena is disposed to be merie. No, it is Pandion would faine seeme wise. You shall not fall out? for Pigions after byting fall to billing, and open iarres make the closest iestes. Mileta, Ismena, Mileta: Come away, my Lady is in a sowne. Aye me. Come, let vs make haste. I am sorie for Sapho: because shee will take no Phisicke, like you Pandion, who being sick of the sullens, will seeke no friend. Of men we learne to speake, of Gods to holde our peace. Silence shall disgeste what follye hath swallowed, and wisdome weane what fancie hath noursed. Is it not loue? If it were, what then? Nothing, but that I hope it be not. Why, in courtes there is nothing more common. And as to be bald among the Micanyans it was accounted no shame, because they were all balde: so to be in loue among courtiers it is no discredit: for that they are al in loue. Why, what doe you think of our Ladies? As of the Seres wooll, which beeing whitest & softest, fretteth soonestand deepest. I will not tempt you in your deepe Melācholy, least you seeme sowre to those, which are so sweete. But come, let vs walke a litle into the fieldes, it may bee the open ayre will disclose your close conceites. I will goe with you: but send our pages away. What browne studie ar thou in Molus, no mirth? no life? I am in the depth of my learning driuen to a muse, how this lent I shall scamble in the court, that was woont to fast so ofte in the Vniuersitie. Thy belly is thy God.