Campaspe (Alexander, Campaspe, and Diogenes) · chunk 19 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 · 527 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T4: love, heart, sweet, loves, fair, phillis, eyes, beauty, amyntas, lovers.
I would they did. I would they did not. Why, would you have them dissemble? Not in love, but their love. But will you give me leave to ask you a question without offence? So that you will answer me another without excuse. Whom do you love best in the world? He that made me last in the world. That was a God. I had thought it had been a man: but whom do you honour most Apelles? The thing that is likest you Campaspe. My picture? I dare not venture upon your person. But come, let us go in: for Alexander will think it long till we return. We hear nothing of our Embassage, a colour belike to blear our eyes, or tickle our ears, or inflame our hearts. But what doth Alexander in the mean season, but use for Tantara, Sol. Fa. La. for his hard couch, down beds, for his handful of water, his standing Cup of wine? Clytus, I mislike this new delicacy and pleasing peace: for what else do we see now then a kind of softness in every man's mind, Bees to make their hives in soldiers' helmets, our steeds furnished with foot clothes of gold, instead of saddles of steel: More time to be required to scour the rust of our weapons, then there was wont to be in subduing the countries of our enemies. Sithence Alexander fell from his hard armour to his soft robes, behold the face of his court, youths that were wont to carry devices of victory in their shields, engrave now posies of love in their rings: they that were accustomed on trotting horses to charge the enemy with a lance, now in easy coach ride up & down to court Ladies: in steed of sword and target to hazard their lives, use pen and paper to paint their loves. Yea, such a fear and faintness is grown in court, that they wish rather to hear the blowing of a horn to hunt, then the sound of a trumpet to fight? O Philip, wert thou alive to see this alteration, thy men turned to women, thy soldiers to lovers, gloves worn in velvet, caps in steed of plumes in graven helmets, thou wouldest either die among them for sorrow, or confound them for anger. Cease Permenio, lest in speaking what becometh thee not, thou feel what liketh thee not: truth is never without a scratched face, whose tongue although it cannot be cut out, yet must it be tied up. It grieveth me not a little for Hephestion, who thirsteth for honour, not ease, but such is his fortune & nearness in friendship to Alexander, that he must lay a pillow under his head, when he would put a target in his hand. But let us draw in, to see how well it becomes them to tread the measures in a dance, that were wont to set the order for a march. I have now Campaspe almost made an end. You told me Apelles, you would never end. Never end my love: for it shall be eternal. That is, neither to have beginning nor ending.
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 would they did. I would they did not. Why, would you haue them dissemble? Not in loue, but theyr loue. But will you giue me leaue to ask you a question without offēce? So that you will aunswere me an other without excuse. Whom do you loue best in the world? He that made me last in the world. That was a God. I had thought it had beene a man: but whome do you honour most Apelles? The thing that is likest you Campaspe. My picture? I dare not venture vpon your person. But come, let vs go in: for Alexander will thinke it longe till we returne. We heare nothing of our Embassage, a colour belike to bleare our eies, or ticle our eares, or inflame our heartes. But what doth Alexander in the meane season, but vse sor Tantara, Sol. Fa. La. for his harde couch, downe beddes, for his handfull of water, his standinge Cup of wine? Clytus, I mislike this new delicacie and pleasing peace: for what els do we see now then a kind of softnes in euery mans minde, Bees to make their hiues in soldiers helmets, our steedes furnished with foote clothes of golde, insteede of saddles of steele: More time to bee required to scowre the rust of our weapons, thē there was woont to be in subdewing the countries of our enemies. Sithence Alexander fell from his harde armour to his softe robes, beholde the face of his court, youthes that were woont to carry deuises of victory in their shieldes, engraue now posies of loue in their ringes: they that were accustomed on trotting horses to chge the enemie with a launce, now in easie coch de vp & downe to court Ladies: in steede of sworde and target to hazard their liues, vse penne and paper to paint their loues. Yea, such a feare and faintnes is growne in courte, that they wish rather to heare the blowing of a horne to hunt, thē the sound of a trumpet to fight? O Phillip, wert thou aliue to see this alteration, thy men turned to women, thy soldiers to louers, gloues worne in veluet, caps in steede of plumes in grauen helmets, thou wouldest either dye among them for sorow, or confound them for anger. Cease Permenio, least in speaking what becommeth thee not, thou feele what liketh thee not: trueth is neuer without a scratcht face, whose tongue although it cannot be cut out, yet must it be tied vp. It greeueth me not a litle for Hephestion, whoe thristeth for honour, not ease, but such is his fortune & neerenesse in friendship to Alexander, that he must lay a pillowe vnder his head, when he would put a targette in his hand. But let vs draw in, to see how well it beecomes them to tread the measures in a daunce, that were wont to set the order for a march. I haue now Campaspe almost made an end. You told me Apelles, you would neuer end. Neuer end my loue: for it shal be eternal. That is, neither to haue beginning nor ending.