Il Pastor Fido, or The Faithful Shepherd · chunk 14 of 71
Dymoke, Tailboys / Guarini, Giovanni Battista · published 1602 · first performed or written 1601 (Annals) pastoral T4 Love-longing and the lover's complaint typicality 0.70 · 478 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T4: love, heart, sweet, loves, fair, phillis, eyes, beauty, amyntas, lovers.
HOw I have searched alongst the rivers side, About the meadows, fountains, and the hills, To find thee out: which now I have, the gods be praised. Ah that thy news Ergasto may deserve This haste. But bringst thou life or death? This though I had I would not give it thee. That do I hope to give thee, though I have it not As yet. But fie, thou must not suffer grief To overthrow thy senses thus. Live man and hope. But to the purpose of my coming now, Ormino hath a sister, know'st her not? A tall big wench, a merry-countnaun'st Nymph With yellow hair, somewhat high-coloured. What is her name? Corisca. I know her well, And heretofore have spoke with her. Then know that she (and see withal your luck) Is now become (I know not by what privilege) Companion to your beauteous Amarillis. I have discovered all your love to her, And this which you desire, and readily She me hath given her faith to bring't about. O happy Mirtillo if this same prove true: But said she nothing of the means whereby? Nothing as yet, nor would she that conclude Until she knew the manner of your love. How it began, and what hath happed therein, That she might easilier spy into the heart Of your beloved Nymph, and better know How to dispose by prayers or by fraud Of her request. For this I came to you, And make me now acquainted from the head, With all the history of your dear love. So will I do, but yet Ergasto know This memory (a bitter hopeless thing) Is like a firebrand tossed in the wind, By which how much the fire increaseth still, So much the brand with blazing flame consumes O piercing shaft made by some power divine! The which the more we seek to draw it out, The faster hold it takes, the deeper root. Well can I tell you, that these lovers hopes Are full of vanities and falsehoods still, loves fruit is bitter, though the root be sweet. In that sweet time when days advantage get Above the nights, then when the year begins: This dainty pilgrim, beauties bright new sun, Came with her countenance like another spring, T'illumin●te my then thrice happy soil Of Pisa, and Eglidis fair. Brought by her mother To see the sacrifices and the sports That celebrated in those solemn days Were unto love. Where while she meant to make Her eyesight blessed with that same spectacle, She blessed the spectacle with her fair eyes, Being loves greatest miracle beneath the skies. No sooner had I scene that face, but straight I burned, defending not the foremost look, Which though mine eyes into my breast directed Such an imperious beauty, as me thought did say, Mirtillo yield thy heart for it is mine.
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)
HOw I haue ſearcht alongſt the riuers ſide, About the meadowes, fountains, and the hils, To find thee out: which now I haue, the gods be praiſ'd. Ah that thy newes Ergasto may deſerue This haſte. But bringſt thou life or death? This though I had I would not giue it thee. That do I hope to giue thee, though I haue it not As yet. But fie, thou muſt not ſuffer griefe To ouerthrow thy ſences thus. Liue man and hope. But to the purpoſe of my comming now, Ormino hath a ſiſter, knowſt her not? A tall big wench, a merry-countnaun'ſt Nymphe With yealow haire, ſomewhat high-coloured. What is her name? Coriſca. I know her well, And heretofore haue ſpoke with her. Then know that ſhe (and ſee withall your lucke) Is now become (I know not by what priuiledge) Companion to your beauteous Amarillis. I haue diſcouered all your loue to her, And this which you deſire, and readily She me hath giu'n her faith to bring't about. O happie Mirtillo if this ſame proue true: But ſaid ſhe nothing of the meanes whereby? Nothing as yet, nor would ſhe that conclude Vntill ſhe knew the manner of your loue. How it began, and what hath hapt therein, That ſhe might eaſilier ſpie into the hart Of your beloued Nymphe, and better know How to diſpoſe by praiers or by fraud Of her requeſt. For this I came to you, And make me now acquainted from the head, With all the hiſtorie of your deare Loue. So will I do, but yet Ergasto know This memorie (a bitter hopeleſſe thing) Is like a fire-brand toſſed in the winde, By which how much the fire increaſeth ſtill, So much the brand with blazing flame conſumes O piercing ſhaft made by ſome power diuine! The which the more we ſeeke to draw it out, The faſter hold it takes, the deeper roote. Well can I tell you, that theſe Louers hopes Are full of vanities and falſhoods ſtill, Loues fruit is bitter, though the roote be ſweet. In that ſweet time when dayes aduantage get Aboue the nights, then when the yeare begins: This daintie pilgrim, beauties bright new ſunne, Came with her count'nance like another ſpring, T'illuminte my then thriſe happie ſoyle Of Piſa, and Eglidis faire. Brought by her mother To ſee the ſacrifices and the ſports That celebrated in thoſe ſolemne daies Were vnto loue. Where while ſhe ment to make Her eye-ſight bleſt with that ſame ſpectacle, She bleſt the ſpectacle with her faire eyes, Being loues greateſt miracle beneath the skies. No ſooner had I ſcene that face, but ſtraight I burnt, defending not the formoſt looke, Which though mine eies into my breſt directed Such an imperious beautie, as me thought did ſay, Mirtillo yeeld thy hart for it is mine.