Lyly, John · published 1601 · first performed or written 1590 [c.1588-1590] (Annals) pastoral; comedy · Children of Paul's (first) unassigned nearest T4 Love-longing and the lover's complaint · 431 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T4: love, heart, sweet, loves, fair, phillis, eyes, beauty, amyntas, lovers.
I Cannot see, Montanus, why it is feigned by the Poets, that Love sat upon the Chaos and created the world; since in the world there is so little love. thou canst not see that which cannot with reason be imagined; for it the divine virtues of Love, had dispersed themselves through the powers of the world, so forcibly as to make them take by his influence, the forms and qualities impressed within them, no doubt they could not choose, but favour more of his Divinity. I do not think Love hath any spark of Divinity in him; since the end or his being is earthly. In the blood is he begot by the frail fires of the eye, & quench by the frailer shadows of thought. What reason have we then to sooth his humour with such zeal, and follow his fading delights with such passion. We have bodies, Silvestris, and human bodies; which in their own natures being much more wretched than beasts, and much more miserably than beasts pursue their own ruins: And since it will ask longer labour and study to subdue the powers of our blood, to the rule of the soul, than to satisfy them with the fruition of our loves, let us be constant in the world's errors, and seek our own torments. As good yield indeed submissively, and satisfy part of our affections; as be stubborn without ability to resist, and enjoy none of them: I am in worst plight, since I love a Nymph that mocks love. And I one that hates love. ay, one that thinks herself above love. Let us not dispute whose mistress is most bad, since they be all cruel; nor which of our fortunes be most froward, since they be all desperate. I will hang my scutcheon on this tree in honour of Ceres, and write this verse on the tree in hope of my success, Penelopen ipsam perstes, mode tempore vinces. Penelope will yield at last: continue and conquer. I this: Fructus abest facies cum bona testae caret. Fair faces lose their favours, if they admit no lovers. But why studiest thou? What wilt thou write for thy Lady to read? That which necessitie maketh me to indure, loue reuerence, wisdome wonder at. Riualem patienter he. Come, let us every one to our walks, it may be we shall meet them walking. It is time to hang up our Garlands, this is our harvest holiday, we must both sing and dance in the honour of Ceres: of what colours or flowers is thine made of, Niobe?
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 Cannot see, Montanus, why it is fain'd by the Poets, that Loue sat vpon the Chaos and created the world; since in the world there is so little loue. thou canst not see that which cannot with reason be imagined; for it the diuine vertues of Loue, had disperst themselues through the powers of the world, so forcibly as to make them take by his influence, the formes and qualities imprest within them, no doubt they could not cse, but fauour more of his Diuinitie. I doe not thinke Loue hath any sparke of Diuinitie in him; since the end or his being is earthly. In the bloud is he begot by the fraile fires of the eye, & quenche by the frayler shadowes of thought. What reason haue we then to soothe his humor with such zeale, and folow his fading delights with such passion. We haue bodies, Siluestris, and humane bodies; which in their natures being much more wretched then beastes, more miserably then beasts pursue their owne : And since it will aske longer labour and studie to subdue the powers of our bloud, to the rule of the soule, then to satisfie them with the fruition of our loues, let vs bee constant in the worlds errours, and seeke our owne torments. As good yeeld indeed submissiuely, and satisfie part of our affections; as bee stubburne without abilitie to resist, and enioy none of them: I am in worst plight, since I loue a Nymph that mockes loue. And I one that hates loue. I, one that thinkes her selfe aboue loue. Let vs not dispute whose mistris is most bad, since they be all cruell; nor which of our fortunes be most froward, since they bee all desperate. I will hang my Skutchin on this tree in honour of Ceres, and write this verse on the tree in hope of my successe, Penelopen ipsam perstes, mode tempore vinces. Penelope will yeeld at last: continue and conquer. I this: Fructus abest facies cum bona teste caret. Faire faces lose their fauours, if they admit no louers. But why studiest thou? What wilt thou write for thy Lady to read? That which necessitie maketh me to indure, loue reuerence, wisdome wonder at. Riualem patienter he. Come, let vs euerie one to our walkes, it may be we shall meete them walking. It is time to hang vp our Garlands, this is our haruest holyday, wee must both sing and daunce in the honour of Ceres: of what colours or flowers is thine made of, Niobe?