Yarington, Robert · published 1601 · first performed or written 1594 [1594-c.1598] (Annals) tragedy · Unknown T22 Shepherds, flocks and Pan typicality 0.78 · 481 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T22: shepherd, pan, shepherds, love, sheep, flocks, fair, shepherdess, swain, away.
Ah have you care to drive the Wolf away, From silly creatures wanting intellect, And yet would suffer your devouring thoughts, To suck the blood of your dead brother's son, As pure and innocent as any lamb, Pertillo was, which you have fed upon, But things past help may better be bewailed With careful tears, then find a remedy, Therefore for fear our practice be espied, Let us to question of our husbandry, How many Lambs fell from the middle flock, Since I myself did take the latter view. Some vive and twenty, whereof two are dead, But three and twenty scud about the fields, That glads my heart to ze their jollity. This is the man, conferring of his Lambs, That slew a Lamb worth all his flock beside. When is the time to let the weather's blood, The forward spring, that had such store of grass, Hath filled them full of rank unwholesome blood, Which must be purged, else when the winter comes, The rot will leave me nothing but their skins. Ihill let 'em blood, but yet it is no time, Until the zygne be gone below the heart. Forbear a while this idle business, And talk of matters of more consequence. Che tell you plain, you are no honest man, To call a shepherds care an idle toy, What though we have a little merry sport, With flowery girlands, and an Oaten pipe, And jolly friskins on a holiday, Yet is a shepherds cure, a greater cark, Then sweating ploughmen with their busy work. Hence leave your sheepish ceremonial, And now Fallerio, in the PRINCE's name, I do arrest you, for the cruel murder Of young Pertillo left unto your charge, Which you discharged with a bloody writ, Signed by the hands of those you did suborn: Nay look not strange, we have such evidence, To ratify your Stygian cruelty, That cannot be deluded any way: Alas my Lords, I know not what you say, As for my Nephew, he I hope is well, I sent him yesterday to Padua. ay, he is well, in such a venger's hands, As will not wink at your iniquity. By heaven and earth my soul is innocent, Say what you will, I know my conscience. To be afflicted with a scourge of care, Which my over weening rashness did inflict. Come bear him hence, expostulate no more, That heart that could invent such treachery, Can teach his face to brave it cunningly. I do defy your accusations, Let me have justice I will answer it. So bear him hence, I mean to stay behind, To take possession of his goods and lands: For the Duke's use, it is too manifest. I hope you'll answer any thing you do, My Lord Veswio you shall answer it: And all the rest that use extremities. I to the Duke's exchequer not to you.
nodes 1833–1895 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 30 of 37 in this edition
Length
481 words · 637 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T22 — Shepherds, flocks and Pancross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.783 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
seed 43: T24 · seed 44: T25 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Ah haue you care to driue the Wolfe away, From sillie creatures wanting intellecte, And yet would suffer your deuouring thoughts, To suck the blood of your dead brothers sonne, As pure and innocent as any lambe, Pertillo was, which you haue fed vpon, But things past helpe may better be bewaild With carefull teares, then finde a remedie, Therefore for feare our practise be espide, Let vs to question of our husbandrie, How many Lambes fell from the middle flock, Since I my selfe did take the latter view. Some viue and twenty, whereof two are dead, But three and twenty sud about the fields, That glads my hart to ze their iollitie. This is the man, conferring of his Lambes, That slew a Lambe worth all his flock besides. When is the time to let the Weathers blood, The forward spring, that had such store of grasse, Hath fild them full of ranke vnwholsome blood, Which must be purg'd, else when the winter comes, The rot will leaue me nothing but their skinnes. Chil let om blood, but yet it is no time, Vntill the zygne be gone below the hart. Forbeare a while this idle businesse, And talke of matters of more consequence. Che tell you plaine, you are no honest man, To call a shepheards care an idle toye, What though we haue a little merry sport, With flowrie gyrlonds, and an Oaten pipe, And iolly friskins on a holly-day, Yet is a shepheards cure, a greater carke, Then sweating Plough-men with their busie warke. Hence leaue your sheepish ceremoniall, And now Fallerio, in the Princes name, I do arrest you, for the cruell murther Of young Pertillo left vnto your charge, Which you discharged with a bloody writ, Sign'd by the hands of those you did suborne: Nay looke not strange, we haue such euidence, To ratifie your Stigian cruelty, That cannot be deluded any way: Alas my Lords, I know not what you say, As for my Nephew, he I hope is well, I sent him yesterday to Padua. I, he is well, in such a vengers handes, As will not winck at your iniquity. By heauen and earth my soule is innocent, Say what you will, I know my conscience. To be afflicted with a scourge of care, Which my ore weaning rashnesse did inflict. Come beare him hence, expostulate no more, That heart that could inuent such treachery, Can teach his face to braue it cunninglie. I do defie your accusations, Let me haue iustice I will answere it. So beare him hence, I meane to stay behinde, To take possession of his goods and landes: For the Dukes vse, it is too manifest. I hope youle answere any thing you doe, My Lord Vesuuio you shall answere it: And all the rest that vse extremities. I to the Dukes Exchecker not to you.