Lyly, John · published 1601 · first performed or written 1590 [c.1588-1590] (Annals) pastoral; comedy · Children of Paul's (first) T4 Love-longing and the lover's complaint typicality 0.72 · 485 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T4: love, heart, sweet, loves, fair, phillis, eyes, beauty, amyntas, lovers.
Farewell, nay I will follow, and I know not how it cometh to pass; disdain increaseth desire, and the farther possibility standeth, the nearer approacheth hope. Polypus, Niobe, is ever of the colour of the stone it slicketh to, and thou ever of his humour thou talkest with. Find you fault that I love? So many. Would you have me like none? Yes one. Who shall make choice but myself? myself. For another to put thoughts into my head, were to pull the brains out of my head; take not measure of my affections, but weigh your own: the Oak findeth no fault with the dew, because it also falleth on the bramble. Believe me, Silvestris, the only way to be mad, is to be constant. Poets make their wreaths of Laurel, Ladies of sundry flowers. Sweet Niobe, a river running into divers brooks becometh shallow, and a mind divided into sundry affections, in the end will have none: what joy can I take in the fortune of my love, when I shall know many to have the like favours? Turtles flock by couples, and breed both joy and young ones. But Bees in swarms, and bring forth wax and honey. Why do you covet many, that may find sweetness in one? Why had Argus an hundred eyes, and might have seen with one? Because whilst he slept with some, he might wake with other some. And I love many, because being deceived by the inconstancy of divers, I might yet have one. That was but a device of Juno, that knew Jupiter's love. And this a rule of Venus, that knew men's lightness. The whole heaven hath but one Sun. But starres ins. The Rainbow is ever in one compass. But of sundry colours. A woman hath but one heart. But a thousand thoughts. My Lute, though it have many strings, maketh a sweet consent, and a Lady's heart, though it harbour many fancies, should embrace but one love. The strings of my heart are tuned in a contrary key to your Lute, and make as sweet harmony in discords, as yours in concord. Why, what strings are in ladies' hearts? Not the base. There is no base string in a woman's heart. The mean? There was never mean in woman's heart. The treble? Yea, the treble double and treble, and so are all my heart strings. Farewell. Sweet Niobe, let us sing, that I may die with the Swan. It will make you sigh the more, and live with the Salamich. Are thy tunes fire? Are yours death? No, but when I have heard thy voice, I am content to die. I will sing to content thee. Inconstant Niobe! unhappy Silvestris! yet had I rather she should rather love all then none: for now though I have no certainty, yet do I find a kind of sweetness. Cruel Nisa, borne to slaughter men!
seed 43: T2 · seed 44: T3 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Farewell, nay I will follow, and I know not how it commeth to passe; disdaine increaseth desire, and the farther possibilitie standeth, the neerer approacheth hope. Polypus, Niobe, is euer of the colour of the stone it slicketh to, and thou euer of his humor thou talkest with. Find you fault that I loue? So many. Would you haue me like none? Yes one. Who shall make choyse but my selfe? My selfe. For another to put thoughts into my head, were to pull the braynes out of my head; take not measure of my affections, but weigh your owne: the Oake findeth no fault with the dewe, because it also falleth on the bramble. Beleeue me, Silstr, the onely way to be mad, is to bee constant. Poets make their wreathes of Lawrell, Ladies of sundrie flowers. Sweete Niobe, a ryuer running into diuers brookes becommeth shallow, and a mind diuided into sundrie affections, in the end will haue none: what oy can I take in the fortune of my loue, when I shall know many to haue the like fauours? Turtles slocke by couples, and breede both ioy and young ones. But Bees in swarmes, and bring forth waxe and honie. Why doe you couet many, that may find sweetnesse in one? Why had Argus an hundred eyes, and might haue seene with one? Because whilest he slept with some, he might wake with other some. And I loue many, because being deceiued by the inconstancie of diuers, I might yet haue one. That was but a deuice of Inno, that knewe Ipors loue. And this a rule of Venus, that knew lightes. The whole heauen hath but one Sun. But starres ins. The Rainebow is euer in one compasse. But of sundrie colours. A woman hath but one heart. But a thousand thoughts. My Lute, though it haue many strings, maketh a sweete consent, and a Ladies heart, though it harbour many fancies, should embrace but one loue. The strings of my heart are tuned in a contrarie keye to your Lute, and make as sweete harmonie in discords, as yours in concord. Why, what strings are in Ladies hearts? Not the base. There is no base string in a womans heart. The meane? There was neuer meane in womans heart. The treble▪ Yea, the treble double and treble, and so are all my heart strings. Farewell. Sweete Niobe, let vs sing, that I may die with the Swanne. It will make you sigh the more, and liue wi the Salamich. Are thy tunes fire? Are yours death? No, but when I haue heard thy voice, I am content to die. I will sing to content thee. Inconstant Niobe! vnhappie Siluestris! yet had I rather shee should rather loue all then none: for nowe though I haue no certaintie, yet doe I find a kinde of sweetnesse. Cruell Nisa, borne to slaughter men!