Shakespeare, William · published 1600 · first performed or written 1596 [1594-1596] (Annals) comedy · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men T21 Cupid, Venus and the nymphs typicality 0.73 · 484 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T21: cupid, venus, love, ceres, diana, fair, nymphs, goddess, bow, damon.
Ho, ho, ho: Coward, why comest thou not▪ Abide me, if thou darest. For well I wots, Thou run'st before me, shifting every place, And darest not stand, nor look me in the face. Where art thou now? Come hither: I am here. Nay then thou mockest me. Thou shalt buy this dear, If ever I thy face by day light see. Now, go thy way. Faintness constraineth me, To measure, out my length, on this cold bed: By days approach look to be visited. O weary night, O long and tedious night, Abate thy hours, shine comforts, from the east; That I may back to Athens, by day light, From these that my poor company detest: And sleep, that sometimes shuts up sorrows eye, Steal me a while from mine own company. Yet but three? Come one more. Two of both kinds makes up four. Hear she comes, cursed and lad. Cupid is a knavish lad, Thus to make poor females mad. Never so weary, never so in woe, Be dabbled with the dew, and torn with briars: I can no further crawl, no further go: My legs can keep no pace with my desires. Here will I rest me, till the break of day: Heavens shield Lysander, if they mean a fray. On the ground, sleep sound: I'll apply your eye, gentle lover, remedy. When thou wakest, thou tak'st True delight, in the sight, of thy former lady's eye: And the country poverbe known, That every man should take his own, In your waking shall be shown. Iacke shall have Iill: nought shall go ill: The man shall have his mare again, & all shall be well. Come sit thee down upon this flowery bed, While I thy amiable cheeks do coy, And stick musk roses in thy sleek smooth head, And kiss thy fair large ears, my gentle joy. Where's Pease-blossome? Ready. Scratch my head, Pease-blossome. where's Mounsieur Cobweb? Ready. Mounsieur Cobweb, good Mounsieur, get you your weapons in your hand, and kill me a red hipt Humble Bee, on the top of a thistle: and good Mounsieur, bring me the honey bag. Do not fret yourself too much, in the action, Mounsieur: and good Mounsieur have a care, the honybagge break not, I would be loath to have you overflown with a hombag signor. Where's Mounsieur Mustardseed? Ready. Give me your neafe, Mounsieur Mustardseed▪ Pray you, leave your curtsy, good Mounsieur. what's your will? Nothing good Mounsieur, but to help Cavalero Cobwebbe, to scratch▪ I must to the Barbers, Mounsieur. For me thinks I am marvels hairy about the face. And I am such a tender Ass, if my hair do but tickle me, I must scratch. What, wilt thou hear some music, my sweet love? I have a reasonable good ear in music. Let's have the tongues, and the bones. Or, say sweet love, what thou desirest to eat.
nodes 1267–1319 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 23 of 33 in this edition
Length
484 words · 710 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T21 — Cupid, Venus and the nymphscross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.727 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
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)
Ho, ho, ho: Coward, why comst thou not▪ Abide me, if thou dar'st. For well I wot, Thou runst before mee, shifting euery place, And dar'st not stand, nor looke me in the face. Where art thou now? Come hither: I am here. Nay then thou mockst me. Thou shat buy this dear, If euer I thy face by day light see. Now, goe thy way. Faintnesse constraineth mee, To measure, out my length, on this cold bed: By daies approach looke to be visited. O weary night, O long and tedious night, Abate thy houres, shine comforts, from the east; That I may backe to Athens, by day light, From these that my poore company detest: And sleepe, that sometimes shuts vp sorrowes eye, Steale mee a while from mine owne companie. Yet but three? Come one more. Two of both kindes makes vp fower. Heare shee comes, curst and ladde. Cupid is a knauish ladde, Thus to make poore females madde. Neuer so weary, neuer so in woe, Be dabbled with the deaw, and torne with briers: I can no further crawle, no further goe: My legges can keepe no pase with my desires. Here will I rest mee, till the breake of day: Heauens shielde Lysander, if they meane a fray. On the ground, sleepe sound: Ile apply your eye, gentle louer, remedy. When thou wak'st, thou tak'st True delight, in the sight, of thy former ladies eye: And the country pouerbe knowne, That euery man should take his owne, In your waking shall be showen. Iacke shall haue Iill: nought shall goe ill: The man shall haue his mare again, & all shall be well. Come sit thee downe vpon this flowry bed, While I thy amiable cheekes doe coy, And stick musk roses in thy sleeke smooth head, And kisse thy faire large eares, my gentle ioy. Where's Pease-blossome? Ready. Scratch my heade, Pease-blossome. Wher's Mounsieur Cobweb? Ready. Mounsieur Cobweb, good Mounsieur, get you your weapons in your hand, and kill me a red hipt Humble Bee, on the toppe of a thistle: and good Mounsieur, bring mee the hony bagge. Doe not fret your selfe too much, in the action, Mounsieur: and good Mounsieur haue a care, the honybagge breake not, I wold be loath to haue you ouerflowen with a hombag signior. Where's Mounsieur Mustardseede? Readie. Giue me your neafe, Mounsieur Mustardseede ▪ Pray you, leaue your curtsie, good Mounsieur. what's your will? Nothing good Mounsieur, but to helpe Caualery Cobwebbe, to scratch▪ I must to the Barbers, Mounsieur. For me thinkes I am maruailes hairy about the face. And I am such a tender Asse, if my haire doe but tickle mee, I must scratch. What, wilt thou heare some musique, my sweete loue? I haue a reasonable good eare in musique. Lets haue the tongs, and the bones. Or, say sweete loue, what thou desirest to eate.