Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1596 [1594-1596] (Annals) comedy · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men unassigned nearest T4 Love-longing and the lover's complaint · 463 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.
I go, I go, look how I go, Swifter than arrow from the Tartars bow. Flower of this purple die, Hit with Cupid's archery, Sink in apple of his eye, When his love he doth espy, Let her shine as gloriously As the Venus of the sky. When thou wakest if she be by, Beg of her for remedy. Captain of our Fairy band, Helena is here at hand, And the youth, mistook by me, Pleading for a Lovers fee. Shall we their fond Pageant see? Lord, what fools these mortals be! Stand aside: the noise they make, Will cause Demetrius to awake. Then will two at once woo one, That must needs be sport alone: And those things do best please me, That befall preposterously. Why should you think that I should woo in scorn? Scorne and derision never comes in tears: Look when I vow I weep; and vows so borne, In their nativity all truth appears. How can these things in me, seem scorn to you? Bearing the badge of saith to prove them true. You do advance your cunning more & more, When truth kills truth, O devilish holy fray! These vows are Hermias. Will you give her over? Weigh oath with oath, and you will nothing weigh. Your vows to her, and me, (put in two scales) Will even weigh, and both as light as tales. I had no judgement, when to her I swore. Nor none in my mind, now you give her over. Demetrius loves her, and he loves not you. O Helen, goddess, nymph, perfect, divine, To what my love, shall I compare thine eyen! Crystal is muddy. O how ripe in show, Thy lips, those kissing cherries, tempting grow! That pure congealed white, high Taurus' snow, Fanned with the Eastern wind, turns to a crow, When thou hold'st up thy hand. O let me kiss This Princess of pure white, this seal of bliss. O spite! O hell! I see you are all bent To set against me, for your merriment: If you were civil, and knew courtesy, You would not do me thus much injury. Can you not hate me, as I know you do, But you must join in souls to mock me to? If you are men, as men you are in show, You would not use a gentle Lady so; To vow, and swear, and superpraise my parts, When I am sure you hate me with your hearts. You both are Rivals, and love Hermia; And now both rivals to mock Helena. A trim exploit, a manly enterprise, To conjure tears up in a poor maids eyes, With your derision; none of noble sort, Would so offend a Virgin, and extort A poor soul's patience, all to make you sport.
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)
I go, I go, looke how I goe, Swifter then arrow from the Tartars bowe. Flower of this purple die, Hit with Cupids archery, Sinke in apple of his eye, When his loue he doth eſpie, Let her ſhine as gloriouſly As the Venus of the sky. When thou wak'ſt if ſhe be by, Beg of her for remedy. Captaine of our Fairy band, Helena is heere at hand, And the youth, miſtooke by me, Pleading for a Louers fee. Shall we their fond Pageant ſee? Lord, what fooles theſe mortals be! Stand aſide: the noyſe they make, Will cauſe Demetrius to awake. Then will two at once wooe one, That muſt needs be ſport alone: And thoſe things doe beſt pleaſe me, That befall prepoſterouſly. Why ſhould you think yt I ſhould wooe in ſcorn? Scorne and deriſion neuer comes in teares: Looke when I vow I weepe; and vowes ſo borne, In their natiuity all truth appeares. How can theſe things in me, ſeeme ſcorne to you? Bearing the badge of ſaith to proue them true. You doe aduance your cunning more & more, When truth kils truth, O diueliſh holy fay! Theſe vowes are Hermias. Will you giue her ore? Weigh oath with oath, and you will nothing weigh. Your vowes to her, and me, (put in two ſcales) Will euen weigh, and both as light as tales. I had no iudgement, when to her I ſwore. Nor none in my minde, now you giue her ore. Demetrius loues her, and he loues not you. O Helen, goddeſſe, nimph, perfect, diuine, To what my loue, ſhall I compare thine eyne! Chriſtall is muddy. O how ripe in ſhow, Thy lips, thoſe kiſſing cherries, tempting grow! That pure congealed white, high Taurus ſnow, Fan'd with the Eaſterne winde, turnes to a crow▪ When thou holdſt vp thy hand. O let me kiſſe This Princeſſe of pure white, this ſeale of bliſſe. O ſpight! O hell! I ſee you are all bent To ſet againſt me, for your merriment: If you were ciuill, and knew curteſie, You would not doe me thus much iniury. Can you not hate me, as I know you doe, But you muſt ioyne in ſoules to mocke me to? If you are men, as men you are in ſhow, You would not vſe a gentle Lady ſo; To vow, and ſweare, and ſuperpraiſe my parts, When I am ſure you hate me with your hearts. You both are Riuals, and loue Hermia; And now both Ruals to mocke Helena. A trim exploit, a manly enterprize, To coniure teares vp in a poore maids eyes, With your deriſion; none of noble ſort, Would ſo offend a Virgin, and extort A poore ſoules patience, all to make you ſport.