Lyly, John · published 1592 · first performed or written 1585 [1583-1585] (Annals) comedy · Children of Paul's (first) (?) · before the Court unassigned nearest T16 Gallantry: ladies, lordships and complim · 476 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T16: lady, madam, gentleman, lordship, ladies, honour, mistress, sweet, court, servant.
It skills not so we be together. But let us sing now, though we cry hereafter. BLush Galathea that must frame thy affection fit for thy habit, and therefore be thought immodest, because thou art unfortunate. Thy tender years cannot dissemble this deceit: nor thy sex bear it. O would the gods had made me as I seem to be, or that I might safely be what I seem not. Thy Father doteth Galathea, whose blind love corrupteth his fond judgement, and jealous of thy death, seemeth to dote on thy beauty, whose fond care carrieth his partial eye as far from truth, as his heart is from falsehood. But why dost thou blame him or blab what thou art, when thou shouldest only counterfeit what thou art not. But whist, here cometh a lad: I will learn of him how to behave myself. I neither like my gate, nor my garments, the one untoward, the other unfit, both unseemly. O Phillida, but yonder stayeth one, and therefore say nothing. But o Phillida. I perceive that boys are in as great disliking of themselves as maids, therefore though I wear the apparel, I am glad I am not the person. It is a pretty boy and a fair, he might well have been a woman, but because he is not, I am glad I am, for now under the colour of my coat, I shall decipher the follies of their kind. I would salute him, but I fear I should make a curtsy instead of a leg. If I durst trust my face as well as I do my habit, I would spend some time to make pastime, for say what they will of a man's wit, it is no second thing to be a woman. All the blood in my body would be in my face, if he should ask me (as the question among men is common) are you a maid? Why stand I still, boys should be bold, but here cometh a brave train that will spill all our talk. God speed fair boy. You are deceived Lady. Why, are you no boy? No fair boy. But I see an unhappy boy. Saw you not the dear come this way, he flew down the wind, & I believe you have blanched him. Whose Dear was it Lady? Diana's dear. I saw none but mine own dear. This wag is wanton or a fool, ask the other, Diana. I know not how it cometh to pass, but yonder boy is in mine eye too beautiful, I pray gods the Ladies think him not their dear. Pretty lad, do your sheep feed in the Forest, or are you strayed from you flock, or on purpose come ye to mar Diana's pastime? I understand not one word you speak. What art thou neither Lad nor shepherd?
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)
It skils not so we be together. But let vs sing now, though we cry heereafter. BLush Gallathea that must frame thy affection fitte for thy habite, and therefore be thought immodest, because thou art vnfortunate. Thy tender yeeres cannot dissemble this deceipt: nor thy sexe beare it. O woulde the gods had made mee as I seeme to be, or that I might safelie be what I seeme not. Thy Father doteth Gallathea, whose blind loue corrupteth his fonde iudgement, and iealous of thy death, seemeth to dote on thy beauty, whose fonde care carrieth his parciall eye as farre from trueth, as his hart is frō falshood. But why doost thou blame him or blab what thou art, when thou shouldest onelie counterfet what thou art not. But whist, heere commeth a ladde: I will learne of him how to behaue my selfe. I neither like my gate, nor my garments, the one vntoward, the other vnfit, both vnseemely. O Phillida, but yonder staieth one, and therefore say nothing. But ô Phillida. I perceiue that boyes are in as great disliking of themselues as maides, therefore though I weare the apparell, I am glad I am not the person. It is a pretty boy and a faire, hee might well haue beene a woman, but because he is not, I am glad I am, for nowe vnder the color of my coate, I shall decipher the follies of their kind. I would salute him, but I feare I should make a curtsie in steed of a legge. If I durst trust my face as well as I doe my habite, I would spend some time to make pastime, for saie what they will of a mans wit, it is no seconde thing to be a woman. All the blood in my bodie would be in my face, if he should aske me (as the question among men is common) are you a maide? Why stande I still, boyes shoulde be bolde, but heere commeth a braue traine that will spill all our talke. God speede faire boy. You are deceiued Ladie. Why, are you no boy? No faire boy. But I see an vnhappie boy. Saw you not the Deare come this waie, hee flewe downe the winde, & I beleeue you haue blancht him. Whose Deare was it Ladie? Dianaes Deare. I saw none but mine owne Deare. This wagge is wanton or a foole, aske the other, Diana. I knowe not howe it commeth to passe, but yonder boy is in mine eye too beautifull, I pray gods the Ladies thinke him not their Deare. Prettie lad, doe your sheepe feede in the Forrest, or are you straied from you flocke, or on purpose come ye to marre Dianaes pastime? I vnderstand not one word you speake. VVhat art thou neither Ladde nor sheepehearde?