Lyly, John · published 1591 · first performed or written 1588 [Feb 2(?)] (Annals) comedy · Children of Paul's (first) · before the Court unassigned nearest T4 Love-longing and the lover's complaint · 496 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T4: love, heart, sweet, loves, fair, phillis, eyes, beauty, amyntas, lovers.
Yonder I espy Endymion, I will seem to suspect nothing but soothe him, that seeing I cannot obtain the depth of his love, I may learn the height of his dissembling; Floscula and Dipsas, withdraw yourselves out of our sight, yet be within the hearing of our saluting; How now Endymion, always solitary? no company but your own thoughts? no friend but melancholy fancies? You know (fair Tellus) that the sweet remembrance of your love, is the only companion of my life, and thy presence, my paradise, so that I am not alone when nobody is with me, and in heaven itself when thou art with me. Then you love me Endymion. Or else I live not Tellus. Is it not possible for you Endymion, to dissemble? Not Tellus, unless I could make me a woman. Why, is dissembling joined to their sex inseparable? as heat to fire, heaviness to earth, moisture to water, thinness to air? No, but found in their sex, as common, as spots upon Doves, moles upon faces, Caterpillars upon sweet apples, cobwebs upon fair windows. Do they all dissemble? All but one. Who is that? I dare not tell. For if I should say you, then would you imagine my flattery to be extreme, if another, then would you think my love to be but indifferent. You will be sure I shall take no vantage of your words. But in sooth Endymion, without more ceremonies, is it not Cynthia? You know Tellus, that of the Gods we are forbidden to dispute, because their deities come not within the compass of our reasons, and of Cynthia we are allowed not to talk but to wonder, because her virtues are not within the reach of our capacities. Why, she is but a woman. No more was Venus. she is but a virgin. No more was Vesta. She shall have an end. So shall the world. Is not her beauty subject to time? No more than time is to standing still. Wilt thou make her immortal? No, but incomparable. Take heed Endymion, lest like the Wrestler in Olimpia, that striving to lift an impossible weight, catched an incurable strain, thou by fixing thy thoughts above thy reach, fall into a disease without all recure? But I see thou art now in love with Cynthia. No Tellus, thou knowest that the stately Cedar, whose top reacheth unto the clouds, never boweth his head to the shrubs that grow in the valley, nor ivy that climbeth up by the Elm, can ever get hold of the beams of the Sun; Cynthia I honour in all humility, whom none ought, or dare adventure to love, whose affections are immortal, & virtues infinite. Suffer me therefore to gaze on the Moon, at whom, were it not for thyself, I would die with wondering. Come Samias, didst thou ever hear such a sighing, the one for Cynthia, the other for Semele, & both for moon shine in the water?
seed 43: T2 · seed 44: T3 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Yonder I espie Endimion, I will seeme to suspect nothing but sooth him, that seeing I cannot obtaine the depth of his loue, I may learne the height of his dissembling; Floscula and Dipsas, with-drawe your selues out of our sight, yet be within the hearing of our saluting; How now Endimion, alwaies solitary? no companie but your owne thoughts? no freende but melancholie fancies? You know (fayre Tellus) that the sweet remembrance of your loue, is the onely companion of my life, and thy presence, my paradise, so that I am not alone when no bodie is with mee, and in heauen it selfe when thou art with me. Then you loue me Endimion. Or els I liue not Tellus. Is it not possible for you Endimion, to dissemble? Not Tellus, vnlesse I could make me a woman. Why, is dissembling ioyned to theyr sex inseparable? as heate to fire, heauines to earth, moysture to water, thinnesse to ayre? No, but founde in their sex, as common, as spots vpon Doues, moles vpon faces, Caterpillers vpon sweet apples, cobwebs vpon faire windowes. Doe they all dissemble? All but one. Who is that? I dare not tell. For if I shoulde say you, then would you imagin my flattery to be extreame, if another, then woulde you thinke my loue to be but indifferent. You will be sure I shall take no vantage of your words. But in sooth Endimion, without more ceremonies, is it not Cynthia? You know Tellus, that of the Gods we are forbidden to dispute, because theyr dieties come not within the compasse of our reasons, and of Cynthia we are allowed not to talke but to wonder, because her vertues are not within the reach of our capacities. Why, she is but a woman. No more was Venus. Shee is but a virgin. No more was Vesta. She shall haue an ende. So shall the world. Is not her beautie subiect to time? No more then time is to standing still. Wilt thou make her immortall? No, but incomparable. Take heede Endimion, lest like the Wrastler in Olimpia, that striuing to lifte an impossible weight, catcht an incurable straine, thou by fixing thy thoughts aboue thy reach, fal into a disease without al recure? But I see thou art now in loue with Cynthia. No Tellus, thou knowest that the statelie Cedar, whose toppe reacheth vnto the clowdes, neuer boweth his head to the shrubs that growe in the valley, nor Iuie that climeth vp by the Elme, can euer get hold of the beames of the Sunne; Cynthia I honour in all humilitie, whom none ought, or dare aduenture to loue, whose affections are immortall, & vertues infinite. Suffer me therefore to gaze on the Moone, at whom, were it not for thy selfe, I would die with wondering. Come Samias, diddest thou euer heare such a sighing, the one for Cynthia, the other for Semele, & both for moone shine in the water?