Peele, George · published 1584 · first performed or written 1581 [c.1581-1584] (Annals) pastoral · Children of the Chapel (first) (Oxford's Boys) · before the Court T21 Cupid, Venus and the nymphs typicality 0.75 · 501 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T21: cupid, venus, love, ceres, diana, fair, nymphs, goddess, bow, damon.
My boy, I will instruct thee in a piece of poetry, That haply erst thou hast not heard: in hell there is a tree, Where once a day do sleep the souls of false forsworn lovers, With open hearts, and there about in swarms the number hovers Of poor forsaken ghosts, whose wings from of this tree do bear Round drops of fiery Phlegethon to scorch false hearts with heat. This pain did Venus and her son, entreat the prince of hell, T'impose to such as faithless were, to such as loved them well. And therefore this, my lovely boy, fair Venus doth advise thee, Be true and steadfast in thy love, beware thou do disguise thee. For he that makes but love a jest, when pleaseth him to start, Shall feel those fiery water drops consume his faithless heart. Is Venus and her son so full of justice and severity. Pity it wear that love should not be linked with indifferency. How ever lovers can exclaim for hard success in love, Trust me, some more than common cause that painful hap doth move. And Cupid's bow is not alone his triumph, but his rod, Nor is he only but a boy: he height a mighty god. And they that do him reverence, have reason for the same, His shafts keep heaven and earth in awe, and shape rewards for flame. And hath he reason to maintain why Colin died for love. Yea reason good I warrant thee, in right it might behoove. Then be the name of Jove adored, his bow is full of might. His wounds are all but for desert, his laws are all but right: well for this once me list apply my speeches to thy sense, And The stilis shall feel the pain for loves supposed offence. Welladay Welladay: Poor Colin thou art going to the ground. The love whom Thestis hath slain, Hard heart, fair face fraught with disdain: Disdain in love a deadly wound. Wound her sweet love so deep again, That she may feel the dying pain Of this unhappy shepherd's swain, And die for love as Colin died. is Colin died finis Camaenae. shepherds abide, let Colin's corpse be witness of the pain That Thestilis endures in love, a plague for her disdain. Behold the organ of our wrath, this rusty churl is he, She dotes on his Ill-favoured face, so much accursed is she. A poor unhappy Thestilis, unpitied is thy pain. Her fortune not unlike to his whom cruel thou hast slain. The strange effects of my tormented heart, Whom cruel love hath woeful prisoner caught, Whom cruel hate hath into bondage brought, Whom wit no way of safe escape hath taught, Enforce me say in witness of my smart, There is no pain to foul disdain in hardy suits of love. There is no pain etc. Cruel, farewell. Shep Cruel, farewell. Most cruel thou, of all that nature framed. Most cruel etc. To kill thy love with thy disdain.
nodes 701–751 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 13 of 21 in this edition
Length
501 words · 651 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T21 — Cupid, Venus and the nymphscross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.746 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
seed 43: T21 · seed 44: T24 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
My boy, I will instruct thee in a peece of poetrie, That happly erst thou hast not heard: in hel there is a tree, Where once a day doe sleepe the soules of false foresweren louers, With open hartes, and there aboute in swarmes the number ouers Of poore forsaken ghostes, whose winges from of this tree d beare Round drops of firie Phlegiton to scorch false hartes with heate. This payne did Venus and her sonne, entreate the prince of ell, T'impose to such as faithles were, to such as loued them well. And therefore this, my louely boy, fare Venus doth aduise thee, Be true and stedfast in thy loue, beware thou doe disguise thee. For he that makes but loue a iest, when pleaseth him to starte, Shall feele those firye vvater drops consume his faithles harte. Is Venus and her sonne so full of iustice and feuerytye. Pittie it vveare that loue shoulde not be lincked with indifferencie. Hovve euer louers can exclaime for harde successe in loue, Trust me, some more then cōmon cause that painfull hap dothe moue. And cupids bovve is not alone his triumphe, but his rod, Nor i he only but a boy: he hight a mighty god. And they that do him reuerence, haue reason for the same, His shafs keepe heauē and earth in avve, and shape revvardes for . And hathe he reason to mantayne vvhy Colin died for loue. Yea reason good I vvarrant thee, in right it might beehoue. Then be the name ofoue adored, his bowe is fll of mighte. His vvoundes are all but for desert, his lavves are all but right: vvell for this once me lyst apply my speeches to thy sense, And The stilis shall feele the paine for loues supposed offence. VVelladay VVelladay: Poore Colin thow arte going to the grounde. The loue whome Thestis hathe slaine, Harde harte, faire face fraughte with disdaine: Disdaine in loue a deadlie wounde. VVounde her swete loue so deepe againe, That shee may feele the deng paine Of this vnhappie shepherds swaine, And dye for loue as Colin died. is Colin ied finis Camn. Shepherdes abde, let Colins corps bee vvittnes of the paine That Thestilis endures in loue▪ a plague for her dysdaine. Beholde the organ of ourvvrathe▪ this rusty churle is hee, She dotes on his yfauored face, so muche accurst is shee. A poore vnhappy Thestlis, vnpitied is thy paine. Her fortune not vnlyke to his vvhome cruell thow hast slaine. The straunge effects of my tormented harte, VVhome cruell loue hathe wofull prisoner caughte, VVhome cruel hate hathe into bondage broughte, VVhome wit no way of safe escape hath taughte, Enforce me say in wittnes of my smarte, There is no paine to foule disdaine in hardy sutes of loue. There is no paine &c. Cruell, farewell. Shep Cruell, farewell. Moste cruell thow, of all that nature framed. Moste creull &c. To kill thy loue with thy disdaine.