Anonymous / Kyd, Thomas / Shakespeare, William / Watson, Thomas · published 1592 · first performed or written 1591 [1588-1592] (Annals) tragedy · Pembroke's Men (?) T4 Love-longing and the lover's complaint typicality 0.75 · 507 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T4: love, heart, sweet, loves, fair, phillis, eyes, beauty, amyntas, lovers.
Sweet love thou know'st that we two Ovid like Have often chid the morning, when it 'gan to peep, And often wished that dark nights purblind steeds, Would pull her by the purple mantle back: And cast her in the Ocean to her love. But this night sweet Alice thou hast killed my heart, I heard thee call on Mosbie in thy sleep. 'tis like I was asleep when I named him, For being awake he comes not in my thoughts: ay but you started up, and suddenly In steed of him: caught me about the neck. In steed of him? why, who was there but you, And where but one is, how can I mistake. Arden leave to urge her over far. Nay love there is no credit in a dream, Let it suffice I know thou lovest me well. Now I remember where upon it came, Had we no talk of Mosbie yesternight. Mistress Alice I heard you name him once or twice, And thereof came it, and therefore blame not me I know it did, and therefore let it pass, I must to London sweet Alice presently. But tell me do you mean to stay there long? No longer there till my affairs be done, He will not stay above a month at most. A month ay me, sweet Arden come again Within a day or two, or else I die. I cannot long be from thee gentle Alice, Whilst, Michel fetch our horses from the field, Franklin and I will down unto the key: For I have certain goods there to unload, Meanwhile prepare our breakfast gentle Alice, For yet ere noon we'll take horse and away, Ere noon he means to take horse and away: Sweet news is this, Oh that some airy spirit, Would in the shape and likeness of a horse Gallop with Arden cross the Ocean, And throw him from his back into the waves. Sweet Mosbie is the man that hath my heart: And he usurps it, having nought but this, That I am tied to him by marriage. Love is a God and marriage is but words, And therefore Mosby's title is the best, Tush whether it be or no, he shall be mine, In spite of him, of Hymen and of rites. And here comes Adam of the flower-de-luce, I hope he brings me tidings of my love. Now now Adam, what is the newes with you? Be not afraid my husband is now from home. He whom you wot of Mosbie Mistress Alice, Is come to town, and sends you word by me, In any case you may not visit him. Not visit him? No nor take no knowledge of his being here But tell me is he angry or displeased. Should seem so for he is wondrous sad. Were he as mad as raving Hercules, I'll see him, I and were thy house of force. These hands of mine should raze it to the ground: Whiles that thou will't bring me to my love.
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)
Sweet loue thou knowst that we two Ouid like Have often chid the morning, when it gan to peepe, And often wisht that darke nights purblind steedes, Would pull her by the purple mantle back: And cast her in the Ocean to her loue. But this night sweete Ales thou hast kild my hart, I heard thee cal on Mosbie in thy sleepe. Tis lyke I was a sleepe when I nam'd him, For beeing awake he comes not in my thoughts: I but you started vp, and suddenly In steede of him: caught me about the necke. In steede of him? why, who was there but you, And where but one is, how can I mistake. Arden leaue to vrdge her ouer farre. Nay loue there is no credit in a dreame, Let it suffice I know thou louest me well. Now I remember where vpon it came, Had we no talke of Mosbie yesternight. Mistres Ales I hard you name him once or twice, And thereof came it, and therefore blame not me I know it did, and therefore let it passe, I must to London sweete Ales presently. But tell me do you meane to stay there long? No longer there till my affaires be done, He will not stay above a month at most. A moneth aye me, sweete Arden come againe Within a day or two, or els I die. I cannot long be from thee gentle Ales, Whilest, Michel fetch our horses from the field, Franklin and I will down vnto the key: For I have certaine goods there to vnload, Meanewhile prepare our breakfast gentle Ales, For yet ere noone wele take horse and away, Ere noone he meanes to take horse and away: Sweete newes is this, Oh that some ayrie spirit, Would in the shape and liknes of a horse Gallope with Arden crosse the Ocean, And throw him from his backe into the waues. Sweete Mosbie is the man that hath my hart: And he vsurpes it, hauing nought but this, That I am tyed to him by marriage. Loue is a God and mariage is but words, And therefore Mosbies title is the best, Tushe whether it be or no, he shall be mine, In spight of him, of Hymen and of rytes. And here comes Adam of the flourdeluce, I hope he brings me tydings of my loue. Now now Adam, what is the newes with you? Be not affraid my husband is now from home. He whome you wot of Mosbie Mistres Ales, Is come to towne, and sends you word by mee, In any case you may not visit him. Not visit him? No nor take no knowledge of his béeing haere But tell me is he angree or displeased. Should seeme so for he is wondrous sad. Were he as mad as rauing Hercules, Ile see him, I and were thy house of force. These hands of mine should race it to the ground: iles that thou would't bring me to my loue.