Lyly, John · published 1601 · first performed or written 1590 [c.1588-1590] (Annals) pastoral; comedy · Children of Paul's (first) T21 Cupid, Venus and the nymphs typicality 0.86 · 482 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T21: cupid, venus, love, ceres, diana, fair, nymphs, goddess, bow, damon.
Cupid, here is Erisychthon in his former state, restore my Nymphs to theirs, then shall they embrace these lovers, who wither out their youth. Honoured be mighty Cupid, that makes me live. Honoured be mighty Cupid, that makes me love. And me. What, more lovers yet? I think it be impossible for Ceres to have any follow her in one hour, that is not in love in the next. Erisychthon, be thou careful to honour Ceres, and forget not to please her Nymphs. The faithful love of thy daughter Protea, hath wrought both pity in me to grant her desires, and to release thy punishments. Thou Petulius shalt enjoy thy love, because I know thee loyal. Then shall Petulius be most happy. And Protea most fortunate. But do you, Ramis, continue your constant love, and you, Montanus, and you, Silvestris. Nothing can alter our affections which increase, while the means decrease, and wax stronger in being weakened. Then Venus, send down that shower, wherewith thou wert wont to wath those that do thee worship, and let love by thy beams, be honoured in all the world and feared, wished for, and wondered at: here are thy Nymphs, Ceres. Whom do I see? Nisa? Divine Celia, fairer than ever she was! My sweet Niobe. Why stare you, my Nymphs, as amazed triumph rather because you have your shapes: this great god Cupid, that for your prides and follies changed, hath by my prayer and promise restored you. You see, Ladies, what it is to make a mock of love, or a scorn of Cupid; see where your lovers stand, you must now take them for your husbands; this is my judgement, this is Ceres' promise. Happy Ramis. Happy Montanus. Happy Silvestris. Why speak you not, Nymphs? This must be done, and you must yield. Not I. Nor I. Nor I. Not yield? Then shall Cupid in his fury turn you again to senseless, and shameful shapes. Will you not yield? How say you Ramis? do your loves continue? Are your thoughts constant? & yours Montanus? And yours Silvestris? Mine most unspotted. And mine. And mine, Cupid, which nothing can alter. And will you not yield, Virgins? Not I, Cupid, neither do I thank thee that I am restored to life, nor fear again to be changed to stone: for rather had I been worn with the continual beating of waves, then dulled with the importunities of men, whose open flatteries make way to their secret lusts, retaining as little truth in their hearts, as modesty in their words; how happy was Nisa, which felt nothing, pined yet, not felt the consumption! unfortunate wench, that now have ears to hear their cunning lies, and eyes to behold their dissembling looks! turn me, Cupid, again; for love I will not. Miserable Ramis, unhappy to love, to change the Lady, accursed, and now lose her, desperate!
nodes 374–404 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 19 of 21 in this edition
Length
482 words · 679 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T21 — Cupid, Venus and the nymphscross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.864 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
seed 43: T21 · seed 44: T24 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Cupid, here is Erisicthon in his former state, restore my Nmphs to theirs, then shal they embrace these louers, who wither out their youth. Honoured bee mightie Cupid, that makes me liue. Honoured bee mightie Cupid, that makes me loue. And me. What, more louers yet? I thinke it bee impossible for Ceres to haue any follow her in one hower, that is not in loue in the next. Erisicthon, bee thou carefull to honour Ceres, and forget not to please her Nymphs. The faithfull loue of thy daughter Protea, hath wrought both pittie in me to graunt her desires, and to release thy puishents. Thou Petuliu shalt enioy thy loue, becaused know thee loyall. Then shall Petulius be most happie. And Protea most fortunate. But doe you, Ramis, continue your constant loue, and you, Montanus, and you, Siluestris. Nothing can alter our affections which encrease, while the meanes decrease, and waxe stronger in being weakened. Then Venus, send downe that showre, wherewith thou wert wont to wath those that doe thee worship, and let loue by thy beames, bee honoured in all the world and feared, wished for, and wondred at: here are thy Nymphs, Ceres. Whome doe I see? Nisa? Diuine Celia, fairer then euer shee was! My sweete Niobe. Why stare you, my Nymphs, as amazed triumph rather because you haue your shapes: this great god Cupid, that for your prides and follies changed, hath by my praier and promise restored you. You see, Ladies, what it is to make a mocke of loue, or a scorne of Cupid; see where your louers stand, you must now take them for your husbands; this is my iudgement, this is Ceres promise. Happie Ramis. Happie Montanus. Happie Siluestris. Why speake you not, Nymphes? This must bee done, and you must yeeld. Not I. Nor I. Nor I. Not yeeld? Then shal Cupid in his furie turne you againe to sencelesse, and shamefull shapes. Will you not yeeld? How say you Ramis? Doo your loues continue? Are your thoughts constant? & yours Montanus? And yours Siluestris? Mine most vnspotted. And mine. And mine, Cupid, which nothing can alter. And will you not yeeld, Virgins? Not I, Cupid, neither doe I thanke thee that I am restored to life, nor feare againe to be chaunged to stone: for rather had I beene worne with the continuall beating of waues, then dulled with the importunities of men, whose open flatteries make way to their secret lustes, retaining as little truth in their hearts, as modestie in their words; how happie was Nisa, which felt nothing, pined yet, not felt the consumption! vnfortunate wench, that now haue eares to heare their cunning lies, and eyes to behold their dissembling lookes! turne me, Cupid, againe; for loue I will not. Miserable Ramis, vnhappie to loue, to chaunge the Ladie, accurst, and now lose her, desperate!