Greene, Robert · published 1630 · first performed or written 1589 [1586-1590] (Annals) comedy · Queen Elizabeth's Men unassigned nearest T4 Love-longing and the lover's complaint · 495 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T4: love, heart, sweet, loves, fair, phillis, eyes, beauty, amyntas, lovers.
Marg'ret, be not so headstrong in these vows. Oh bury not such beauty in a Cell: That England hath held famous for the hue. Thy father's hair like to the silver blooms: That beautifies the shrubs of Africa Shall fall before the dated time of death, Thus to forgo his lovely Marg'ret. A father, when the harmony of heaven Soundeth the measures of a lively faith: The vain Illusions of this flattering world, Seem odious to the thoughts of Marg'ret. I loved once, Lord Lacy was my love, And now I hate myself for that I loved, And doted more on him than on my God: For this I scourge myself with sharp repents; But now the touch of such aspiring sins Tells me, all love is lust, but love of heavens: That beauty used for love is vanity, The world contains nought but alluring baits: Pride, flattery, and inconstant thoughts, To shun the pricks of death, I leave the world, And vow to meditate on heavenly bliss, To live in Framingham a holy Nun, Holy and pure in conscience and in deed: And for to wish all maids to learn of me, To seek heaven's joy before earth's vanity. And will you then, Marg'ret, be shorn a Nun, and so leave us all? Now farewell world, the engine of all woe, Farewell to friends and father, welcome Christ: Adieu to dainty robes, this base attire Better befits an humble mind to God, Than all the show of rich habiliments. Love, oh Love, and with fond Love farewell, Sweet Lacy, whom I loved once so dear, Ever be well, but never in my thoughts, Lest I offend to think on Lacy's love: But even to that as to the rest, farewell. Come on my wags, we're near the keeper's Lodge, Here have I oft walked in the watery Meads, And chatted with my lovely Marg'ret. Sirrah Ned, is not this the Keeper? 'tis the same, The old lecher hath gotten holy mutton to him, a Nun, my Lord. Keeper, how farest thou holla man, what cheer, How doth Peggie thy daughter and my love? Ah, good my Lord! oh, woe is me for Peg, See where she stands clad in her nun's attire, Ready for to be shorn in Framingham: She leaves the world, because she left your love, Oh good my Lord, persuade her if you can. Why how now Marg'ret, what a malcontent, A Nun? what holy father taught you this, To task yourself to such a tedious life, As die a maid? 'twere injury to me, To smother up such beauty in a Cell. Lord Lacy, thinking of thy former misse, How fond the prime of wanton years were spent In love, Oh fie upon that fond conceit, Whose hap and essence hangeth in the eye, I leave both love and love's content at once, Betaking me to him that is true love, And leaving all the world for love of him.
seed 43: T2 · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Margret, be not ſo head-ſtrong in theſe vowes. Oh bury not ſuch beauty in a Cell: That England hath held famous for the hue. Thy fathers haire like to the ſiluer bloomes: That beautifies the ſhrubs of Affrica Shall fall before the dated time of death, Thus to forgoe his louely Margret. A father, when the harmony of heauen Soundeth the meaſures of a liuely faith: The vaine Illuſions of this flattering world, Seeme odious to the thoughts of Margret. I loued once, Lord Lacy was my loue, And now I hate my ſelfe for that I lou'd, And doated more on him than on my God: For this I ſcourge my ſelfe with ſharpe repents; But now the touch of ſuch a ſpiring ſinnes Tels me, all loue is luſt, but loue of heauens: That beauty vſde for loue is vanity, The world containes nought but alluring baites: Pride, flattery, and inconſtant thoughts, To ſhun the pricks of death, I leaue the world, And vow to meditate on heauenly bliſſe, To liue in Fremingham a holy Nunne, Holy and pure in conſcience and in deed: And for to wiſh all maides to learne of me, To ſeeke heauens ioy before earths vanity. And will you then, Margret, be ſhorne a Nunne, and ſo leaue vs all? Now farewell world, the engin of all woe, Farewell to friends and father, welcome Chriſt: Adieu to dainty robes, this baſe attire Better befits an humble minde to God, Then all the ſhew of rich habilliments. Loue, oh Loue, and with fond Loue farewell, Sweet Lacy, whom I loued once ſo deare, Euer be well, but neuer in my thoughts, Leſt I offend to thinke on Lacies loue: But euen to that as to the reſt, farewell. Come on my wags, we're neere the Keepers Lodge, Here haue I oft walkt in the watry Meades, And chatted with my louely Margret. Sirra Ned, is not this the Keeper? Tis the ſame, The old lecher hath gotten holy mutton to him, a Nunne, my Lord. Keeper, how fareſt thou holla man, what cheere, How doth Peggie thy daughter and my loue? Ah, good my Lord! oh, woe is me for Pegge, See where ſhe ſtands clad in her Nunnes attire, Ready for to be ſhorne in Fremigham: She leaues the world, becauſe ſhe left your loue, Oh good my Lord, perſwade her if you can. Why how now Margret, what a malecontent, A Nunne? what holy father taught you this, To taske your ſelfe to ſuch a tedious life, As dye a maid? 'twere iniury to me, To ſmother vp ſuch beauty in a Cell. Lord Lacy, thinking of thy forme miſſe, How fond the prime of wanton yeeres were ſpent In loue, Oh fie vpon that fond conceite, Whoſe hap and eſſence hangeth in the eye, I leaue both loue and loues content at once, Betaking me to him that is true loue, And leauing all the world for loue of him.