Lyly, John · published 1592 · first performed or written 1585 [1583-1585] (Annals) comedy · Children of Paul's (first) (?) · before the Court T4 Love-longing and the lover's complaint typicality 0.77 · 483 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T4: love, heart, sweet, loves, fair, phillis, eyes, beauty, amyntas, lovers.
So saith Clymene, and she will have Him. I care not, my sweet Tityrus though he seem proud, I impute it to childishness: who being yet scarce out of his swath-clouts, cannot understand these deep conceits; I love him. So do I, and I will have him. Immodest all that we are, unfortunate all that we are like to be; shall virgins begin to wrangle for love, and become wanton in their thoughts, in their words, in their actions. O divine Love, which art therefore called divine, because thou over-reachest the wisest, conquerest the chastest, and dost all things both unlikely and impossible, because thou art Love. Thou makest the bashful impudent, the wise fond, the chaste wanton, and workest contraries to our reach, because thyself is beyond reason. Talk no more Telusa, your words wound. Ah would I were no woman. Would Tityrus were no boy. Would Telusa were nobody. It is pity that Nature framed you not a woman having a face so fair, so lovely a countenance, so modest a behaviour. There is a Tree in Tylos, whose nuts have shells like fire, and being cracked, the kernel is but water. What a toy is it to tell me of that tree, being nothing to the purpose: I say it is pity you are not a woman. I would not wish to be a woman, unless it were because thou art a man. Nay I do not wish to be woman, for then I should not love thee, for I have sworn never to love a woman. A strange humour in so pretty a youth, and according to mine, for myself will never love a woman. It were a shame if a maiden should be a suitor, (a thing hated in that sex) that thou shouldest deny to be her servant. If it be a shame in me, it can be no commendation in you, for yourself is of that mind. Suppose I were a virgin (I blush in supposing myself one) and that under the habit of a boy were the person of a maid, if I should utter my affection with sighs, manifest my sweet love by my salt tears, and prove my loyalty unspotted, and my griefs intolerable, would not then that fair face, pity this true heart? Admit that I were, as you would have me suppose that you are, and that I should with entreaties, prayers, oaths, bribes, and whatever can be invented in love, desire your favour, would you not yield? Trush you come in with admit. And you with suppose. What doubtful speeches be these? I fear me he is as I am, a maiden. What dread riseth in my mind, I fear the boy to be as I am a maiden. Tush it cannot be, his voice shows the contrary. Yet I do not think it, for he would then have blushed.
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)
So saith Clymene, and shee will haue Him. I care not, my sweete Tyterus though he seeme proude, I impute it to childishnes: who beeing yet scarce out of his swath-clowtes, cannot vnderstande these deepe conceits; I loue him. So doe I, and I will haue him. Immodest all that wee are, vnfortunate all that we are like to be; shall virgins beginne to wrangle for loue, and become wanton in their thoughts, in their words, in their actions. O deuine Loue, which art therfore called deuine, because thou ouer-reachest the wisest, conquerest the chastest, and doost all things both vnlikely and impossible, because thou art Loue. Thou makest the bashfull impudent, the wise fond, the chast wanton, and workest contraries to our reach, because thy selfe is beyond reason. Talke no more Telusa, your words wound. Ah would I were no woman. Would Tyterus were no boy. Would Telusa were no body. It is pitty that Nature framed you not a woman hauing a face so faire, so louely a countenaunce, so modest a behauiour. There is a Tree in Tylos, whose nuttes haue shels like fire, and beeing cracked, the karnell is but water. What a toy is it to tell mee of that tree, beeing nothing to the purpose: I say it is pitty you are not a woman. I would not wish to be a woman, vnlesse it were because thou art a man. Nay I doe not wish to be woman, for then I should not loue thee, for I haue sworne neuer to loue a woman. A strange humor in so prettie a youth, and according to myne, for my selfe will neuer loue a woman. It were a shame if a mayden should be a suter, (a thing hated in that sexe) that thou shouldest denie to be her seruant. If it be a shame in me, it can be no commendation in you, for your selfe is of that minde. Suppose I were a virgine (I blush in supposing my selfe one) and that vnder the habite of a boy were the person of a mayde, if I should vtter my affection with sighes, manifest my sweete loue by my salte teares, and proue my loyaltie vnspotted, and my griefes intollerable, would not then that faire face, pittie thys true hart? Admit that I were, as you woulde haue mee suppose that you are, and that I should with intreaties, prayers, othes, bribes, and what euer can be inuented in loue, desire your fauour, would you not yeeld? Trush you come in with admit. And you with suppose. What doubtfull speeches be these? I feare me he is as I am, a mayden. What dread riseth in my minde, I feare the boy to be as I am a mayden. Tush it cannot be, his voice shewes the contrarie. Yet I doe not thinke it, for he woulde then haue blushed.