Il Pastor Fido, or The Faithful Shepherd · chunk 20 of 71
Dymoke, Tailboys / Guarini, Giovanni Battista · published 1602 · first performed or written 1601 (Annals) pastoral unassigned nearest T4 Love-longing and the lover's complaint · 482 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T4: love, heart, sweet, loves, fair, phillis, eyes, beauty, amyntas, lovers.
My cruel Silvio, I am that same Do Without pursuit or conquest taken so. Quick if thou pleasest to accept of me, Dead if thou dost despise my company. Is this the Do, the game you told me of? This is the same. Ay me, why look you so? Hold you a Nymph no dearer than a Do? I neither hold thee dear nor like of thee: But hate thee brute, wild, lying filth. Is this my guerdon cruel Silvio? Ungrateful boy, is this all my reward? I gave Melampo and myself with him to thee, Hoping that thus thou wouldst not have denied The sunshine of thine eyes to me. I would Have kept thee and thy dog most faithful company. I would have wiped thy brows from toilefull sweat: Upon this lap that never taketh rest, Thou might'st have ta'en thy rest. I would Have carried all thy ●ew and proved thy prey, When beasts had wanted in the woods thou mightst Have shot at me for one, and in this breast Have used still thy tough-well-sinewed bow. So as thou wouldst, I like thy servant might Thy weapons carried have, or proved thy prey, Making my breast both quiver and the mark For those thy shafts. But unto whom speak I? To him that hears me not, but's fled from me, Fly where thou wilt, thee will I still pursue, e'en into hell, if any hell can be More painful than my grief, than thy great cruelty. O How Fortune favours my designs More than I looked for. She good reason hath, For I ne'er asked her favour shamefastly. Great power she hath, and with good cause the world Calls her a puissant goddess: yet must we not sit still, For seldom idle folks prove fortunate. Had not my industry made me companion unto her, What would this fit occasion have availed me, To bring my purpose unto pass? Some fool Would have her rival shunned, and showed signs of Her jealousy, bearing an evil eye About, but that had been ill done, for easilier May one keep her from an open then a hidden foe. The covered rocks are those which do deceive The wisest mariners Who cannot friendship fain, Cannot truly hate. Now see what I can do, I am not such an ass to think she doth not love, It might she make some other fool believe. But tush, I am the mistress of this art. A tender wench, Scarce from the cradle crept, in whom love hath Stilled but the first drops of his sweet, so long Pursued and wooed by a worthy friend, And worse, 〈◊〉, and ●ekist, and yet not loue●▪ She is an ass that it believes. I'll not believe't. But see how Fortune favours me: Behold Where Amarillis is herself. I'll make As though I saw her not, and stand aside.
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)
My cruell Siluio, I am that ſame Do Without purſuit or conqueſt taken ſo. Quicke if thou pleaſeſt to accept of me, Dead if thou doſt deſpiſe my companie. Is this the Do, the game you told me of? This is the ſame. Ay me, why looke you ſo? Hold you a Nimph no dearer then a Do? I neither hold thee deare nor like of thee: But hate thee brute, vilde, lying filth. Is this my guerdon cruell Siluio? Vngratefull boy, is this all my reward? I gaue Melampo and my ſelfe with him to thee, Hoping that thus thou wouldſt not haue denide The ſunſhine of thine eyes to me. I would Haue kept thee and thy dog moſt faithful company. I would haue wipte thy browes from toilefull ſweat: Vpon this lap that neuer taketh reſt, Thou might'ſt haue ta'ne thy reſt. I would Haue carried all thy ew and prou'd thy pray, When beaſts had wanted in the woods thou mightſt Haue ſhot at me for one, and in this breſt Haue vſed ſtill thy tough-well-ſinew'd bowe. So as thou wouldſt, I like thy ſeruant might Thy weapons carried haue, or prou'd thy pray, Making my breſt both quiuer and the marke For thoſe thy ſhafts. But vnto whom ſpeake I? To him that heares me not, but's fled from me, Flie where thou wilt, thee will I ſtill purſue, Eu'n into hell, if any hell can be More painfull then my griefe, then thy great crueltie. O How Fortune fauours my diſſeignes More then I lookt for. She good reaſon hath, For I ne're askt her fauour ſhamefaſtly. Great pow're ſhe hath, and with good cauſe the world Calls her a puiſſant goddeſſe: yet muſt we not ſit ſtill, For ſildome idle folkes proue fortunate. Had not my induſtry made me companion vnto her, What would this fit occaſion haue auailed me, To bring my purpoſe vnto paſſe? Some foole Would haue her riuall ſhund, and ſhew'd ſignes of Her iealouſie, bearing an euil eye About, but that had bene ill done, for eaſilier May one keepe her from an open then a hidden foe. The couer'd rocks are thoſe which do deceiue The wiſeſt marriners Who cannot friendſhip faine, Cannot truly hate. Now ſee what I can do, I am not ſuch an aſſe to thinke ſhe doth not loue, It might ſhe make ſome other foole beleeue. But tuſh, I am the miſtreſſe of this art. A tender wench, Scarce from the cradle crept, in whom loue hath Still'd but the firſt drops of his ſweet, ſo long Purſude and wood by a worthy friend, And worſe, , and ekiſt, and yet not loue ▪ She is an aſſe that it beleeues. Ile not beleeu't. But ſee how Fortune fauours me: Behold Where Amarillis is her ſelfe. Ile make As though I ſawe her not, and ſtand aſide.