Campaspe (Alexander, Campaspe, and Diogenes) · chunk 11 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 · 508 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T4: love, heart, sweet, loves, fair, phillis, eyes, beauty, amyntas, lovers.
If Alexander have any thing that may pleasure Diogenes, let me know, and take it. Then take not from me, that you cannot give me, the light of the world. What dost thou want? Nothing that you have. I have the world at command. And I in contempt. Thou shalt live no longer than I will. But I shall die whether you will or no. How should one learn to be content? Unlearn to covet. Hephestion, were I not Alexander, I would wish to be Diogenes. He is dogged, but discrete, I cannot tell how sharp with a kind of sweetness, full of wit, yet too to wayward. Diogenes, when I come this way again, I will both see thee, and confer with thee. Do. But here cometh Apelles, how now Apelles, is Venus' face yet finished? Not yet: Beauty is not so soon shadowed, whose perfection cometh not within the compass either of cunning or of colour. Well let it rest unperfect, & come you with me, where I will show you that finished by nature, that you have been trifling about by art. Lady, I doubt whether there be any colour so fresh, that may shadow a countenance so fair. Sir, I had thought you had been commanded to paint with your hand, not to gloze with your tongue, but as I have heard, it is the hardest thing in painting to set down a hard favour, which maketh you to despair of my face, and then shall you have as great thanks to spare your labour, as to discredit your art. Mistress, you neither differ from yourself nor your sex: for knowing your own perfection, you seem to dispraise that which men most commend, drawing them by that mean into an admiration, where feeding themselves they fall into an ecstasy, your modesty being the cause of the one, and of the other, your affections. I am too young to understand your speech, though old enough to withstand your device: you have been so long used to colours, you can do nothing but colour. Indeed the colours I see, I fear, will alter the colour I have: but come Madam, will you draw near: for Alexander will be here anon. Psyllus, stay you here at the window, if any inquire for me, answer, Non lubet esse domi. It is always my masters fashion, when any fair gentlewoman is to be drawn within, to make me to stay without. But if he should paint Iupiter like a Bull, like a Swan like an Eagle, then must Psyllus with one hand grind colours, and with the other hold the candle. But let him alone, the better he shadows her face, the more will he burn his own heart. And now if a man could mere with Manes, who I dare say, looks as lean, as if Diogenes dropped out of his nose. And here comes Manes, who hath as much meat in his maw, as thou hast honesty in thy head. Then I hope thou art very hungry.
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)
If Alexander haue any thing that may pleasure Diogenes, let me know, and take it. Then take not from me, that you cannot giue me, the light of the world. What dost thou want? Nothing that you haue. I haue the world at commaund. And I in contempt. Thou shalt liue no longer then I will. But I shall die whether you wil or no. How should one learne to be content? Vnlearne to couet. Hephestion, were I not Alexander, I would wishe to be Diogenes. He is dogged, but discrete, I cannot tell how sharpe with a kinde of sweetenes, full of wit, yet too to wayward. Diogenes, when I come this way again, I wil both see thee, and confer with thee. Doe. But here commeth Apelles, how now Apelles, is Venus face yet finished? Not yet: Bewtie is not so soone shadowed, whose perfection commeth not within the compasse either of cunning or of colour. Wel let it rest vnperfect, & come you with mee, where I will shewe you that finished by nature, that you haue beene trifling about by arte. Lady, I doubt whether there bee any colour so fresh, that may shadow a countenance so faire. Sir, I had thought you had beene commaunded to paint with your hand, not to glose with your tongue, but as I haue heard, it is the hardest thing in painting to set down a hard fauour, which maketh you to dispair of my face, and then shal you haue as great thanks to spare your labour, as to discredit your arte. Mistresse, you neither differ from your selfe nor your sex: for knowing your own perfectiō, you seeme to dispraise that which men moste commend, drawing thē by that meane into an admiration, where feedinge themselues they fal into an extasie, your modestie being the cause of the one, and of the other, your affections. I am too young to vnderstande your speache, thogh old enough to withstād your deuise: you haue bin so long vsed to colours, you can do nothing but colour. Indeed the colours I see, I feare, wil altar the colour I haue: but come Madam, wil you draw neere: for Alexander will be here anon. Psyllus, stay you heere at the window, if anye enquire for me, aunswere, Nonlubet esse domi. It is alwaies my maisters fashion, when any fair gentlewoman is to be drawne within, to make mee to stay without. But if he shuld paint Iupiter like a Bul, like a Swanne like an Eagle, then must Psyllus with one hand grinde colours, and with the other hold the candle. But let him alone, the better he shadowes her face, the more will he burne his own heart. And now if a manne coulde meere with Manes, who I dare say, lookes as leane, as if Diogenes dropped out of his nose. And heere comes Manes, whoe hath as muche meate in his maw, as thou hast honestie in thy head. Then I hope thou art very hungry.