Campaspe (Alexander, Campaspe, and Diogenes) · chunk 9 of 25
Lyly, John · published 1584 · first performed or written c.1583 (Annals) comedy · Children of the Chapel (first) (Oxford's Boys) · before the Court unassigned nearest T4 Love-longing and the lover's complaint · 556 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T4: love, heart, sweet, loves, fair, phillis, eyes, beauty, amyntas, lovers.
I cannot tell Alexander, whether the report be more shameful to be heard, or the cause sorrowful to be believed? What, is the son of Philip, king of Macedon become the subject of Campaspe, the captive of Thebes? Is that mind, whose greatness the world could not contain, drawn within the compass of an idle alluring eye? will you handle the spindle with Hercules, when you should shake the spear with Achilles? Is the warlike sound of drum and trump turned to the soft noise of lyre and lute, the neighing of barbed steeds, whose loudness filled the air with terror, and whose breathes dimmed the sun with smoke, converted to delicate tunes and amorous glances? O Alexander, that soft and yielding mind should not be in him, whose hard and unconquered heart hath made so many yield. But you love, ah grief, but whom? Campaspe, ah shame, a maid forsooth unknown, unnoble; and who can tell whether immodest? whose eyes are framed by art to enamour, and whose heart was made by nature to enchant. ay, but she is beautiful, yea, but not therefore chaste: ay, but she is comely in all parts of the body: yea, but she may be crooked in some part of the mind; ay, but she is wise, yea, but she is a woman: Beauty is like the blackberry, which seemeth red, when it is not ripe resembling precious stones that are polished with honey, which the smother they look, the sooner they break. It is thought wonderful among the sea men that Mugil of all fishes the swiftest is found in the belly of the Bret of all the slowest; And shall it not seem monstrous to wise men, that the heart of the greatest conqueror of the world, should be found in the hands of the weakest creature of nature? of a woman? of a captive? hermines have fair skins, but foul livers; Sepulchre's fresh colours but rotten bones, women fair faces, but false hearts. Remember Alexander thou hast a camp to govern, not a chamber, fall not from the armour of Mars to the arms of Venus, from the fiery assaults of war, to the maidenly skirmishes of love from displaying the Eagle in thine ensign, to set down the sparrow. I sigh Alexander that where fortune could not conquer, folly should overcome. But behold all the perfection that may be in Campaspe, a hair curling by nature, not art: sweet alluring eyes, a fair face made in despite of Venus; and a stately port in disdain of Iuno, a wit apt to conceive, and quick to answer a skin as soft as silk, and as smooth as jet, a long white hand, a fine little foot, to conclude, all parts answerable to the best part, what of this? Though she have heavenly gifts, virtue and beauty, is she not of earthly metal flesh and blood? You Alexander that would be a God, show yourself in this worse than a man, so soon to be both overseen and overtaken in a woman, whose false tears know their true times, whose smooth words wound deeper than sharp swords. There is no surfeit so dangerous, as that of honey, nor any poison so deadly, as that of love, in the one physic cannot prevail, nor in the other counsel.
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)
I cannot tell Alexander, whether the reporte be more shamefull to be heard, or the cause sorowfull to be beleeued? What, is the sonne of Phillip, king of Macedon become the subiect of Campaspe, the captiue of Thebes? Is that minde, whose greatnes the world coulde not containe, drawn within the compasse of an idle alluring eie? Wil you handle the spindle with Hercules, when you shuld shake the speare with Achilles? Is the warlike sound of drumme and trumpe turned to the softe noyse of lire and lute, the neighing of barbed steedes, whose loudnes filled the ayre with terrour, and whose breathes dimmed the sunne with smoake, conuerted to delicate tunes and amorous glaunces? O Alexander, that soft and yeelding minde should not bee in him, whose hard and vnconquered heart hath made so many yeelde. But you loue, ah griefe, but whom? Campaspe, ah shame, a maide forsooth vnknowne, vnnoble; and who can tell whether immodest? whose eies are framed by arte to inamour, and whose heart was made by nature to enchaunt. I, but she is bewtiful, yea, but not therefore chaste: I, but she is comly in al partes of the body: yea, but she may be crooked in some parte of the mind; I, but she is wise, yea, but she is a woman: Bewtie is like the blackberry, which seemeth red, when it is not ripe resembling pretious stones that are polished with honney, which the smother they look, the sooner they breake. It is thought wonderful among the sea men that Mugil of all fishes the swifteste is found in the belly of the Bret of all the slowest; And shal it not seeme monstrous to wise men, that the hearte of the greatest conquerour of the worlde, should be found in the handes of the weakest creature of nature? of a woman? of a captiue? Hermyns haue faire skinnes, but fowle liuers; Sepulcher's fresh colours but rotten bones, women faire faces, but false heartes. Remember Alexander thou haste a campe to gouerne, not a chamber, fall not from the armour of Mars to the armes of Venus, frō the fiery assaults of warre, to the maidenly skirmishes of loue from displaying the Eagle in thine ensigne, to sette downe the sparrow. I sigh Alexander that where fortune could not counquer, folly should ouercome. But behold al the perfection that may be in Campaspe, a haire curling by nature, not arte: sweete alluring eies, a faire face made in despite of Venus; and a stately porte in disdaine of ia, a witte apt to conceaue, and quick to aunswere a skin as softe as silke, and as smooth as iet, a long white hand, a fine little foote, to conclude, all partes aunswerable to the best part, what of this? Though she haue heauenlye gifts, vertue and bewtie, is she not of earthly mettal flesh and bloud? You Alexander that would be a God, shewe your self in this worse then a man, so soone to bee both ouerseene and ouertaken in a woman, whose false teares know their true times, whose smooth wordes wounde deeper then sharpeswordes. There is no surfeit so dangerous, as that of honeye, nor any poyson so deadly, as that of loue, in the one phisicke cannot preuaile, nor in the other counsel.