Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1598 (Annals) comedy · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men unassigned nearest T4 Love-longing and the lover's complaint · 506 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.
Because you talk of wooing, I will sing, Since many a wooer doth commence his suit, To her he thinks not worthy, yet he woos, Yet will he swear he loves. Nay pray thee come, Or if thou wilt hold longer argument, Do it in notes. Note this before my notes, There's not a note of mine that's worth the noting. Why these are very crotchets that he speaks, Note notes forsooth, and nothing. Now divine air, now is his soul ravished, is it not strange that sheep's guts should hale souls out of men's bodies? well, a horn for my money when all's done. Sigh no more Ladies, sigh no more, Men were deceivers ever, One foot in Sea and one on shore, To one thing constant never, Then sigh not so, but let them go, And be you blithe and bonnis, Converting all your sounds of woe, Into hay nonny nonny. Sing no more ditties, sing no moe, Of dumps so dull and heavy, The fraud of men were ever so, Since summer first was levy, Then sigh not so, etc. By my troth a good song. And an ill singer, my Lord. Ha', no, no faith, thou singest well enough for a shift. And he had been a dog that should have howld thus, they would have hanged him, and I pray God his bad voice bode no mischief, I had as lief have heard the night-raven, come what plague could have come after it. Yea marry, dost thou hear Balthasar? I pray thee get us some excellent music: for to morrow night we would have it at the Lady Heroes chamber window. The best I can, my Lord. Do so, farewell. Come hither Leonato, what was it you told me of to day, that your Niece Beatrice was in love with signior Benedick? O I, stalk on, stalk on, the foul sits. I did never think that Lady would have loved any man. No nor I neither, but most wonderful, that she should so dote on Signior Benedick, whom she hath in all outward behaviours seemed ever to abhor. Is't possible? sits the wind in that corner? By my troth my Lord, I cannot tell what to think of it, but that she loves him with an enraged affection, it is passed the infinite of thought. May be she doth but counterfeit. Faith like enough. O God! counterfeit? there was never counterfeit of passion, came so near the life of passion as she discovers it. Why what effects of passion shows she? Bait the hook well, this fish will bite. What effects my Lord? she will sit you, you heard my daughter tell you how. She did indeed. How, how I pray you? you amaze me, I would have thought her spirit had been invincible against all assaults of affection. I would have sworn it had, my Lord, especially against Benedick. I should think this a gull, but that the white-bearded fellow speaks it: knavery cannot sure hide himself in such reverence.
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)
Becauſe you talke of wooing, I will ſing, Since many a wooer doth commence his ſuit, To her he thinkes not worthy, yet he wooes, Yet will he ſweare he loues. Nay pray thee come, Or if thou wilt hold longer argument, Doe it in notes. Note this before my notes, Theres not a note of mine that's worth the noting. Why theſe are very crotchets that he ſpeaks, Note notes forſooth, and nothing. Now diuine aire, now is his ſoule rauiſht, is it not ſtrange that ſheepes guts ſhould hale ſoules out of mens bodies? well, a horne for my money when all's done. Sigh no more Ladies, ſigh no more, Men were deceiuers euer, One foote in Sea and one on ſhore, To one thing conſtant neuer, Then ſigh not ſo, but let them goe, And be you blithe and bonnis, Conuerting all your ſounds of woe, Into hey nony nony. Sing no more ditties, ſing no moe, Of dumps ſo dull and heauy, The fraud of men were euer ſo, Since ſummer firſt was leauy, Then ſigh not ſo, &c. By my troth a good ſong. And an ill ſinger, my Lord. Ha, no, no faith, thou ſingſt well enough for a ſhift. And he had been a dog that ſhould haue howld thus, they would haue hang'd him, and I pray God his bad voyce bode no miſchiefe, I had as liefe haue heard the night-rauen, come what plague could haue come after it. Yea marry, doſt thou heare Balthaſar? I pray thee get vs ſome excellent muſick: for to morrow night we would haue it at the Lady Heroes chamber window. The beſt I can, my Lord. Do ſo, farewell. Come hither Leonato, what was it you told me of to day, that your Niece Beatrice was in loue with ſignior Benedicke? O I, ſtalke on, ſtalke on, the foule ſits. I did neuer thinke that Lady would haue loued any man. No nor I neither, but moſt wonderful, that ſhe ſhould ſo dote on Signior Benedicke, whom ſhee hath in all outward behauiours ſeemed euer to abhorre. Is't poſſible? ſits the winde in that corner? By my troth my Lord, I cannot tell what to thinke of it, but that ſhe loues him with an inraged affection, it is paſt the infinite of thought. May be ſhe doth but counterfeit. Faith like enough. O God! counterfeit? there was neuer counterfeit of paſſion, came ſo neere the life of paſſion as ſhe diſcouers it. Why what effects of paſſion ſhewes ſhe? Baite the hooke well, this fiſh will bite. What effects my Lord? ſhee will ſit you, you heard my daughter tell you how. She did indeed. How, how I pray you? you amaze me, I would haue thought her ſpirit had beene inuincible againſt all aſſaults of affection. I would haue ſworne it had, my Lord, eſpecially againſt Benedicke. I ſhould thinke this a gull, but that the white-bearded fellow ſpeakes it: knauery cannot ſure hide himſelfe in ſuch reuerence.