Marlowe, Christopher / Nashe, Thomas · published 1594 · first performed or written 1586 [c.1585-1586; possibly 1591] (Annals) tragedy · Children of the Chapel (first) (Oxford's Boys) unassigned nearest T4 Love-longing and the lover's complaint · 502 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T4: love, heart, sweet, loves, fair, phillis, eyes, beauty, amyntas, lovers.
For this will Dido tie ye full of knots, And sheer ye all asunder with her hands: Now serve to chastise ship-boys for their faults, Ye shall no more offend the Carthage Queen. Now let him hang my favours on his masts, And see if those will serve instead of sails: For tackling, let him take the chains of gold, Which I bestowed upon his followers: In steed of oars, let him use his hands, And swim to Italy, I'll keep these sure: Come bear them in. My Lord Ascanius, ye must go with me. Whither must I go? I'll stay with my mother. No, thou shalt go with me unto my house, I have an Orchard that hath store of plums, brown Almonds, Services, ripe Figs and Dates, dew-berries, Apples, yellow Oranges, A garden where are be hives full of honey, Musk-roses, and a thousand sort of flowers, And in the midst doth run a silver stream, Where thou shalt see the red gilled fishes leap, White Swans, and many lovely water souls: Now speak Ascanius, will ye go or no? Come come I'll go, how far hence is your house? But hereby child, we shall get thither straight. Nurse I am weary, will you carry me? ay, so you'll dwell with me and call me mother. So you'll love me, I care not if I do. That I might live to see this boy a man, How prettily he laughs, go ye wag, You'll be a twigger when you come to age. Say Dido what she will I am not old, I'll be no more a widow, I am young, I'll have a husband, or else a lover. A husband and no teeth! O what mean I to have such foolish thoughts! Foolish is love, a toy, O sacred love, If there be any heaven in earth, 'tis love: Especially in women of your years. Blush blush for shame, why shouldst thou think of love? A grave, and not a lover fits thy age: A grave, why? I may live a hundred years, fourscore is but a girls age, love is sweet: My veins are withered, and my sinews dry, Why do I think of love now I should die? Come Nurse. Well, if he come a-wooing he shall speed, O how unwise was I to say him nay! Triumph my mates, our travels are at end. Here will Aeneas build a statelier Troy, Then that which grim Atrides overthrew: Carthage shall vaunt her petty walls no more, For I will grace them with a fairer frame, And clad her in a Crystal livery, Wherein the day may evermore delight: From golden India Ganges will I fetch, Whose wealthy streams may wait upon her towers, And triple wise entrench her round about: The Sun from Egypt shall rich odours bring, Where with his burning beams like labouring Bees, That load their thighs with Hybla's honeys spoils, Shall here unburden their exhaled sweets, And plant our pleasant suburbs with her fumes.
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)
For this will Dido tye ye full of knots, And sheere ye all asunder with her hands: Now serue to chastize shipboyes for their faults, Ye shall no more offend the Carthage Queene. Now let him hang my fauours on his masts, And see if those will serue in steed of sailes: For tackling, let him take the chaines of gold, Which I bestowd vpon his followers: In steed of oares, let him vse his hands, And swim to Italy, Ile keepe these sure: Come beare them in. My Lord Ascanius, ye must goe with me. Whither must I goe? Ile stay with my mother. No, thou shalt goe with me vnto my house, I haue an Orchard that hath store of plums, Browne Almonds, Seruises, ripe Figs and Dates, Dewberries, Apples, yellow Orenges, A garden where are Bee hiues full of honey, Musk-roses, and a thousand sort of flowers, And in the midst doth run a siluer streame, Where thou shalt see the red gild fishes leape, White Swannes, and many louely water sowles: Now speake Ascanius, will ye goe or no? Come come Ile goe, how farre hence is your house? But hereby child, we shall get thither straight. Nurse I am wearie, will you carrie me? I, so youle dwell with me and call me mother. So youle loue me, I care not if I doe. That I might liue to see this boy a man, How pretilie he laughs, goe ye wagge, Youle be a twigger when you come to age. Say Dido what she will I am not old, Ile be no more a widowe, I am young, Ile haue a husband, or els a louer. A husband and no teeth! O what meane I to haue such foolish thoughts! Foolish is loue, a toy, O sacred loue, If there be any heauen in earth, tis loue: Especially in women of your yeares. Blush blush for shame, why shouldst thou thinke of loue? A graue, and not a louer fits thy age: A graue, why? I may liue a hundred yeares, Fourescore is but a girles age, loue is sweete: My vaines are withered, and my sinewes drie, Why doe I thinke of loue now I should dye? Come Nurse. Well, if he come a wooing he shall speede, O how vnwise was I to say him nay! Triumph my mates, our trauels are at end. Here will Aeneas build a statelier Troy, Then that which grim Atrides ouerthrew: Carthage shall vaunt her pettie walles no more, For I will grace them with a fairer frame, And clad her in a Chrystall liuerie, Wherein the day may euermore delight: From golden India Ganges will I fetch, Whose wealthie streames may waite vpon her towers, And triple wise intrench her round about: The Sunne from Egypt shall rich odors bring, Where with his burning beames like labouring Bees, That loade their thighes with Hyblas honeys spoyles, Shall here vnburden their exhaled sweetes, And plant our pleasant suburbes with her fumes.