The Reign of King Edward the Third · chunk 6 of 39
Anonymous / Shakespeare, William · published 1596 · first performed or written 1590 [c.1590-1595] (Annals) history · Derby's (Strange's) Men (?) T48 Addressing a lady: love, desire and inti typicality 0.80 · 509 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T48: lady, love, heart, fair, eyes, la, lord, tears, fie, face.
As wise as fair, what fond fit can be heard, When wisdom keeps the gate as beauty's guard, Countess, albeit my business urgeth me, It shall attend, while I attend on thee: Come on my Lords, here will I host tonight. I might perceive his eye in her eye lost, His care to drink her sweet tongue's utterance, And changing passion like inconstant clouds: That rack upon the carriage of the winds, Increase and die in his disturbed cheeks: Lo when she blushed, even then did he look pale, As if her cheeks by some enchanted power, Attracted had the cherry blood from his, A none with reverent fear, when she grew pale, His cheek put on their scarlet ornaments, But no more like her orient all red, Than Brick to Coral, or live things to dead, Why did he then thus counterfeit her looks, If she did blush 'twas tender modest shame, Being in the sacred present of a King. If he did blush, 'twas red immodest shame, To wail his eyes amiss being a king: If she looked pale, 'twas silly woman's fear, To bear herself in presence of a king: If he looked pale, it was with guilty fear, To dote a miss being a mighty king, Then Scottish wars farewell, I fear 'twill prove A lingering English siege of peevish love, Here comes his highness walking all alone. she is grown more fairer far since I came thither, Her voice more silver every word then other, Her wit more fluent, what a strange discourse, Unfolded she of David and his Scots: Even thus quoth she, he spoke, and then spoke broad, With epithets and accents of the Scot: But somewhat better than the Scot could speak, And thus quoth she, and answered then herself, For who could speak like her but she herself: Breathes from the wall, an Angels note from Heaven: Of sweet defiance to her barbarous foes, When she would talk of peace methinks her tongue, Commanded war to prison: when of war, It wakened Caesar from his Roman grave, To hear war beautified by her discourse, Wisdom is foolishness, but in her tongue, Beauty a slander but in her fair face, There is no summer, but in her cheerful looks, Nor frosty winter, but in her disdain, I cannot blame the Scots that did besiege her, For she is all the Treasure of our land: But call them cowards that they ran away, Having so rich and fair a cause to stay. Art thou there Lodwick, give me ink and paper? I will my liege. And bid the Lords hold on their play at Chess, For we will walk and meditate alone. I will my sovereign. This fellow is well read in poetry, And hath a lusty and persuasive spirit: I will acquaint him with my passion, Which he shall shadow with a vail of lawn, Through which the Queen of beauty's Queen shall see, Herself the ground of my infirmity. Hast thou pen, ink and paper ready Lodowick, Ready my liege.
seed 43: T31 · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
As wiſe as faire, what fond fit can be heard, When wiſedome keepes the gate as beuties gard, Counteſſe, albeit my buſines vrgeth me, Yt ſhall attend, while I attend on thee: Come on my Lords, heere will I hoſt to night. I might perceiue his eye in her eye loſt, His care to drinke her ſweet tongues vtterance, And changing paſſion like inconſtant clouds: That racke vpon the carriage of the windes, Increaſe and die in his diſturbed cheekes: Loe when ſhee bluſht, euen then did he looke pale, As if her cheekes by ſome inchaunted power, Attracted had the cherie blood from his, A none with reuerent feare, when ſhe grewpale, His cheeke put on their ſcarlet ornaments, But no more like her oryent all red, Then Bricke to Corrall, or liue things to dead, Why did he then thus counterfeit her lookes, If ſhe did bluſh twas tender modeſt ſhame, Being in the ſacred preſent of a King. If he did bluſh, twas red immodeſt ſhame, To waile his eyes amiſſe being a king: If ſhe lookt pae, twas ſilly womans feare, To beare her ſelfe in preſence of a king: If he lookt pae, it was with guiltie feare, To dote a miſe being a mighty king, Then Scottiſh warres farewell, I feare twill prooue A lingring Engliſh ſeege of peeuiſh loue, Here comes his highnes walking all alone. Shee is growne more fairer far ſince I came thither, Her voice more ſiluer euery word then other, Her wit more fluent, what a ſtrange diſcourſe, Vnfolded ſhe of Dauid and his Scots: Euen thus quoth ſhe, he ſpake, and then ſpoke broad, With epithites and accents of the Scot: But ſomewhat better then the Scot could ſpeake, And thus quoth ſhe, and anſwered then herſelfe, For who could ſpeake like her but ſhe herſelfe: Breathes from the wall, an Angels note from Heauen: Of ſweete defiance to her barbarous foes, When ſhe would talke of peace me thinkes her tong, Commanded war to priſon: when of war, It wakened Caeſar from his Romane graue, To heare warre beautified by her diſcourſe, Wiſedome is fooliſhnes, but in her tongue, Beauty a ſlander but in her faire face, There is no ſummer, but in her cheerefull lookes, Nor froſty winter, but in her diſdayne, I cannot blame the Scots that did beſiege her, For ſhe is all the Treaſure of our land: But call them cowards that they ran away, Hauing ſo rich and faire a cauſe to ſtay. Art thou thete Lodwicke, giue me incke and paper? I will my liege. And bid the Lords hold on their play at Cheſſe, For wee will walke and meditate aloue. I will my ſoueraigne. This fellow is well read in poetrie, And hath a luſtie and perſwaſiue ſpirite: I will acquaint him with my paſſion, Which he ſhall ſhadow with a vaile of lawne, Through which the Queene of beauties Queene ſhall ſee, Herſelfe the ground of my infirmitie. Haſt thou pen, inke and paper ready Lodowike, Ready my liege.