Il Pastor Fido, or The Faithful Shepherd · chunk 5 of 71
Dymoke, Tailboys / Guarini, Giovanni Battista · published 1602 · first performed or written 1601 (Annals) pastoral unassigned nearest T21 Cupid, Venus and the nymphs · 511 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T21: cupid, venus, love, ceres, diana, fair, nymphs, goddess, bow, damon.
For that the heavens the health of Arcady Do promise at these nuptials. Know you not How we do still appease our goddess wrath, Each year with guiltless blood of some poor Nymph? A mortal and a miserable tribute. 'tis news to me, that am a new inhabitant, As't pleaseth love and my poor destiny: That did before inhabit savage woods, But what I pray you was that grievous fault That kindled rage in a celestial breast? I will report the doleful tragedy From the beginning of our misery, That able are pity and plaints to draw From these hard rocks, much more from human breasts. In that same golden age when holy priesthood, and The temples charge was not prohibited To youth. A noble swain Amintas called, Priest at that time, loved Lucrina bright: A beauteous Nymph, exceeding fair: but therewithal Exceeding false, and light. Long time she loved him, Orat the least, she seemed so, with feigned face Nursing his pure affections with false hopes. Whilst she no other suitors had. But see Th' unconstant wretch! no sooner was she wooed By a rude shepherd, but at first assault, At his first sigh, she yielded up her love: Before Amintas dreamt of jealousy. At last Amintas was forlorn, despide, So that the wicked woman would nor see, nor hear Him speak, now if the wretch did sigh, Be thou the judge that know'st his pain by proof. Ay me, this grief all other griefs exceeds. After he had his heart recovered From his complaints, he to his goddess turns, And praying saves: Great Cynthia if I have At any time kindled with guiltless hands The holy flames, revenge thou then for me This broken faith of my unconstant Nymph. Diana hears the prayers of her priest, And straight out-breathing rage, she takes her bow And shoots shafts of mennitable death Into the bowels of Arcadia. People of every sex, of every age, Soon perished, no succour could be found, 'Twas bootless art to search for remedies, For often on the patient the physician died. One only remedy did rest, which was Straight to the nearest Oracle they went, From whom they had an answer very clear, But above measure deadly horrible. Which was, our Cynthia was displeased, and to Appease herire, either Lucrina or some else for her, Must by Amintas hands be sacrificed. Who when she had long time in vain complained, And looked for help from her new friend in vain, Was to the sacred Altars led with solemn pomp, A woeful sacrifice. Where at those feet Which had pursued her long time in vain At her betrayed lovers feet she bends Her rtembling knees, attending cruel death. Amintas stretcheth out the holy sword, Seeming to breath from his inflamed lips, Rage and revenge; turning to her his face, Speaks with a sigh, the messenger of death: Lucrina for thy further pains, behold What Lover thou hast left, and what pursued judge by this blow. And with that very word Striketh the blade into his woeful breast,
seed 43: T2 · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
For that the heauens the health of Arcady Do promiſe at theſe nuptialls. Know you not How we do ſtil appeaſe our goddeſſe wrath, Each yeare with guiltleſſe blood of ſome poore Nymphe? A mortall and a miſerable tribute. T'is newes to mee, that am a new inhabitant, As't pleaſeth loue and my poore deſteny: That did before inhabit ſauadge woods, But what I pray you was that greeuous fault That kindled rage in a celeſtiall breſt? I will report the dolefull tragedy From the beginning of our miſery, That able are pittie and plaints to drawe From theſe hard rocks, much more from humane breſts. In that ſame golden age when holy prieſthood, and The temples charge was not prohibited To youth. A noble ſwaine Amintas call'd, Prieſt at that time, loued Lucrina bright: A beauteous Nymphe, exceeding faire: but therewithall Exceeding falſe, and light. Long time ſhe loued him, Orat the leaſt, ſhe ſeemed ſo, with fained face Nurſing his pure affections with falſe hopes. Whilſt ſhe no other ſuters had. But ſee Th' vnconſtant wretch! no ſooner was ſhe wooed By a rude ſhepheard, but at firſt aſſault, At his firſt ſighe, ſhe yeelded vp her loue: Before Amintas dream't of Iealouſie. At laſt Amintas was forlorne, deſpide, So that the wicked woman would nor ſee, nor heare Him ſpeake, now if the wretch did ſigh, Be thou the iudge that knowſt his paine by proofe. Aye me, this griefe all other griefs exceeds. After he had his heart recouered From his complaints, he to his goddeſſe turnes, And praying ſaves: Great Cinthia if I haue At any time kindled with guiltleſſe hands The holy flames, reuenge thou then for me This broken faith of my vnconſtant Nimphe. Diana heares the praiers of her prieſt, And ſtraight out-breathing rage, ſhe takes her bowe And ſhootes ſhafts of mennitable death Into the bowels of Arcadia. People of euery ſexe, of euery age, Soone periſhed, no ſuccour could be found, T'was bootleſſe art to ſearch for remedies, For often on the patient the phiſitian died. One onely remedie did reſt, which was Strait to the neareſt Oracle they went, From whom they had an anſwere verie cleare, But aboue meaſure deadly horrible. Which was, our Cinthia was diſpleaſd, and to Appeaſe herire, either Lucrina or ſome elſe for her, Muſt by Amintas hands be ſacrifiz'd. Who when ſhe had long time in vaine complain'd, And lookt for helpe from her new friend in vaine, Was to the ſacred Altars led with ſolemne pompe, A wofull ſacrifice. Where at thoſe ſeete Which had purſued her long time in vaine At her betrayed Louers feete ſhe bends Her rtembling knees, attending cruell death. Amintas ſtretcheth out the holy ſword, Seeming to breath from his inflamed lippes, Rage and reuenge; turning to her his face, Speakes with a ſigh, the meſſenger of death: Lucrina for thy further paines, behold What Louer thou haſt left, and what purſude Iudge by this blow. And with that very word Striketh the blade into his wofull breſt,