Lyly, John · published 1592 · first performed or written 1585 [1583-1585] (Annals) comedy · Children of Paul's (first) (?) · before the Court unassigned nearest T35 Fools, wit and railing · 492 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T35: fool, wit, aristippus, achilles, wise, fools, patroclus, thersites, master, men.
My Master is so ravished with his Art, that we many times go supperless to bed, for he will make gold of his bread, and such is the drought of his desire, that we all wish our very guts were gold. I have good fortune to light upon such a Master. When in the depth of my skill I determine to try the uttermost of mine Art, I am dissuaded by the gods, otherwise, I durst undertake to make the fire as it flames, gold, the wind as it blows, silver, the water as it runs, lead, the earth as it stands, iron, the sky, brass, and men's thoughts, firm mettles. I must bless myself, and marvel at you. Come in, and thou shalt see all. I follow, I run, I fly; they say my Father hath a golden thumb, you shall see me have a golden body. I am glad of this, for now I shall have leisure to run away; such a bald Art as never was, let him keep his new man, for he shall never see his old again; God shield me from blowing gold to nothing, with a strong imagination to make nothing any thing. How now Galathea? miserable Galathea, that having put on the apparel of a boy, thou canst also put on the mind. O fair Melebeus, I too fair, and therefore I fear, too proud. Had it not been better for thee to have been a sacrifice to Neptune, than a slave to Cupid? to die for thy Country, than to live I thy fancy? to be a sacrifice, than a Lover? O would when I hunted his eye with my heart, he might have seen my heart with his eyes. Why did Nature to him a boy give a face so fair, or to me a virgin a fortune so good? I will now use for the distaff the bow, and play at quoits abroad, that was wont to sow in my Sampler at home. It may be Galathea, foolish Galathea, what may be? nothing. Let me follow him into the Woods, and thou sweet Venus be my guide. Poor Phillida, curse the time of thy birth and rareness of thy beauty, the unaptness of thy apparel, and the untamedness of thy affections. Art thou no sooner in the habit of a boy, but thou must be enamoured of a boy, what shalt thou do when what best liketh thee, most discontenteth thee? Go into the Woods, watch the good times, his best moods, and transgress in love a little of thy modesty, I will, I dare not, thou must, I cannot. Then pine in thine own peevishness. I will not, I will. Ah Phillida do something, nay any thing rather than live thus. Well, what I will do, myself knows not, but what I ought I know too well, and so I go resolute, either to bewray my love, or suffer shame.
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)
My Maister is so rauisht with his Arte, that we manie times goe supperlesse to bed, for he wil make gold of his breade, and such is the drouth of his desire, that we all wish our very guts were gold. I haue good fortune to light vpon such a Maister. When in the depth of my skill I determine to try the vttermost of mine Arte, I am disswaded by the gods, otherwise, I durst vndertake to make the fire as it flames, gold, the winde as it blowes, siluer, the water as it runnes, lead, the earth as it standes, yron, the skye, brasse, and mens thoughts, firme mettles. I must blesse my selfe, and maruell at you. Come in, and thou shalt see all. I followe, I runne, I flye; they say my Father hath a golden thumbe, you shall see me haue a golden bodie. I am glad of this, for now I shall haue leysure to runne away; such a bald Arte as neuer was, let him keepe his newe man, for he shall neuer see his olde againe; God shelde me from blowing gold to nothing, with a strong imagination to make nothing any thing. How now Gallathea? miserable Gallathea, that hauing put on the apparell of a boy, thou canst also put on the minde. O faire Melebeus, I too faire, and therefore I feare, too proude. Had it not beene better for thee to haue beene a sacrifice to Neptune, then a slaue to Cupid? to die for thy Countrey, then to liue I thy fancie? to be a sacrifice, then a Louer? O woulde when I hunted his eye with my harte, hee might haue seene my hart with his eyes. Why did Nature to him a boy giue a face so faire, or to me a virgine a fortune so d? I will now vse for the distaffe the bowe, and play at quaites abroade, that was wont to sowe i my Sampler at home. It may be Gallathea, foolish Gallathea, what may be? nothing. Let mee followe him into the Woods, and thou sweete Venus be my guide. Poore Phillida, curse the time of thy birth and rarenes of thy beautie, the vnaptnes of thy apparel, and the vntamednes of thy affections. Art thou no sooner in the habite of a boy, but thou must be enamored of a boy, what shalt thou doe when what best lyketh thee, most discontenteth thee? Goe into the Woods, watch the good times, his best moodes, and transgresse in loue a little of thy modestie, I will, I dare not, thou must, I cannot. Then pine in thine owne peeuishnes. I will not, I wil. Ah Phillida doe something, nay anie thing rather then liue thus. Well, what I will doe, my selfe knowes not, but what I ought I knowe too well, and so I goe resolute, eyther to bewray my loue, or suffer shame.