A Looking Glass for London and England · chunk 9 of 39
Lodge, Thomas / Greene, Robert · published 1594 · first performed or written 1588 [1587-1588] (Annals) biblical play; moral · Derby's (Strange's) Men unassigned nearest T4 Love-longing and the lover's complaint · 474 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T4: love, heart, sweet, loves, fair, phillis, eyes, beauty, amyntas, lovers.
Of love and me. Proud & disdainful king, Darest thou presume to touch a Deity, Before she grace thee with a yielding smile? Tut my Remilia, be not thou so coy, Say nay, and take it. Careless and unkind, Talks Rasni to Remilia in such sort As if I did enjoy a human form? Look on thy Love, behold mine eyes divine, And darest thou twit me with a woman's fault? Ah Rasni thou art rash to judge of me, I tell thee Flora oft hath wood my lips, To lend a Rose to beautify her spring, The sea-Nymphs fetch their lilies from my cheeks. Then thou unkind, and hereon would I weep. And here would Aluida resign her charge, For were I but in thought Th'assirian King, I needs must quite thy tears, with kisses sweet, And crave a pardon with a friendly touch, You know it Madam though I teach it not, The touch I mean, you smile when as you think ill. How am I pleased to hear thy pretty prate, According to the humour of my mind? Ah Nymphs, who fairer than Remilia? The gentle winds have wood me with their sighs, The frowning air hath cléerde when I did smile, And when I tract upon the tender grass, Love that makes warm the centre of the earth, Lift up his crest to kiss Remelias foot, Iuno still entertains her amorous Ioue, With new delights, for fear he look on me, The Phoenix feathers are become my Fan, For I am beauty's Phoenix in this world. Shut close these Curtains strait and shadow me, For fear Apollo spy me in his walks, And scorn all eyes, to see Remilias eyes. Nymphs, Knancks, sing, for Mavors draweth nigh, Hid me in Closure, let him long to look, For were a Goddess fairer then am I, I'll scale the heavens to pull her from the place. Believe me, though she say that she is fairest, I think my penny silver by her leave. Magis for love of Rasni by your Art, By Magic frame an Arbour out of hand, For fair Remilia to disport her in. Meanwhile, I will bethink me on further pomp. Blessed be ye man of Art that grace me thus, And blessed be this day where Hymen hies, To join in union pride of heaven and earth. What wondrous threatening noise is this I hear? What flashing lightnings trouble our delights? When I draw near Remelias royal Tent, I waking, dream of sorrow and mishap. Dread not O King, at ordinary chance, These are but common exhalations, Drawn from the earth, in substance hot and dry, Or moist and thick, or Meteors combust, Matters and causes incident to time, Enkindled in the fiery region first. Tut be not now a Roman Angurer, Approach the Tent, look on Remelia.
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)
Of loue and me. Proud & disdainful king, Dar'st thou presume to touch a Deitie, Before she grace thée with a yéelding smile? Tut my Remilia, be not thou so coy, Say nay, and take it. Carelesse and vnkinde, Talkes Rasni to Remilia in such sort As if I did enioy a humane forme? Looke on thy Loue, behold mine eyes diuine, And dar'st thou twit me with a womans fault? Ah Rasni thou art rash to iudge of me, I tell thée Flora oft hath woode my lips, To lend a Rose to beautifie her spring, The sea-Nymphs fetch their lillies from my chéeks. Then thou vnkind, and hereon would I wéepe. And here would Aluida resigne her charge, For were I but in thought Th'assirian King, I néeds must quite thy teares, with kisses swéete, And craue a pardon with a friendly touch, You know it Madam though I teach it not, The touch I meane, you smile when as you think il. How am I pleas'd to hear thy pritty prate, According to the humor of my minde? Ah Nymphs, who fairer then Remilia? The gentle winds haue woode me with their sighes, The frowning aire hath cléerde when I did smile, And when I tract vpon the tender grasse, Loue that makes warme the center of the earth, Lift vp his crest to kisse Remelias foote, Iuno still entertaines her amorous Ioue, With new delights, for feare he looke on me, The Phoenix feathers are become my Fanne, For I am beauties Phoenix in this world. Shut close these Curtaines straight and shadow me, For feare Apollo spie me in his walkes, And scorne all eyes, to sée Remilias eyes. Nymphes, Knancks, sing, for Mauors draweth nigh, Hide me in Closure, let him long to looke, For were a Goddesse fairer then am I, Ile scale the heauens to pull her from the place. Beléeue me, tho she say that she is fairest, I thinke my peny siluer by her leaue. Magi for loue of Rasni by your Art, By Magicke frame an Arbour out of hand, For faire Remilia to desport her in. Meane-while, I will bethinke me on further pomp. Blest be ye man of Art that grace me thus, And blessed be this day where Himen hies, To ioyne in vnion pride of heauen and earth. What wondrous threatning noyse is this I heare? What flashing lightnings trouble our delights? When I draw neare Remelias royall Tent, I waking, dreame of sorrow and mishap. Dread not O King, at ordinary chance, These are but common exalations, Drawne from the earth, in substance hote and drie, Or moist and thicke, or Meteors combust, Matters and causes incident to time, Inkindled in the firie region first. Tut be not now a Romane Angurer, Approach the Tent, looke on Remelia.