Il Pastor Fido, or The Faithful Shepherd · chunk 27 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 0.72 · 477 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T4: love, heart, sweet, loves, fair, phillis, eyes, beauty, amyntas, lovers.
The memory of any good that wastes, Consumes itself as th'other is consumed. But if my hopes be not as is their use, Of brittle glass, or that my deep desire Make not my hope much greater than the truth, Here shall I see the sunbeams of mine eyes. Here if I be not mocked I shall her see Stay her quick feet at sound of my lament. Here shall my greedy eyes after long fast Receive sweet food from her divinest look. Here will she turn her son'raigne lights on me, If not gentle, yet cruel will they be. If not the means to breed mine inward joy, So fierce, yet as I die to mine annoy. O happy day sighed for long time in vain, If after times so clouded with complaints Love thou dost grant me sight of her fair eyes, I mean made bright as is the morning Sun, Hither Ergasto sent me, where he said Corisca and my beauteous Amarillo Would be together playing at blind man buff: Yet here see I none blind, save my blind will, That wandering seeks her sight by other means But finds it not. O poison to my food, This long delay blindeth my heart with fear. My cruel destiny will never change. Each hour, each moment that a Lover stays Expecting his contentment, seems a world. But who doth know? perhaps I stayed too long. And here Corisca hath attended me. Ay me! If this be true, then welcome death. BEhold the buff! Behold indeed! ah sight. Why stay ye now▪ Ah voice that hast at once Both wounded me and healed me again? Where be ye? what do ye? Lisetta you That so desired this sport, where are you now? Where is Corisca? and where be the rest? Now may't be truly said that love is blind, And hath a scarce that bindeth up his eyes. Come list to me! guide me clear of these trees, There set me in the pain, you round about A circle make and so begin the play. What shall I do? I see not how this sport Can do me good, not I Corisca see that is The lodestar of my hopes. heavens aid me. Why are ye come? think ye nought else to do But blind mine eyes? Where are ye let's begin? Blind love I do not trust to thee, That makes desires full of obscurity. Thou hast s●● all sight lesser troth, Unhappy they that trust thine oath. Blind or not blind thou tempest in vain, For I can shift me in this plain. Blind thou dost see through Aaron's eyes, Blind thou best sighted safely ties. Now that I am at liberty, I were a fool to trust to thee. In test nor earnest I'll not stay, Because thou killest when thou dost play.
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)
The memorie of any good that waſts, Conſumes it ſelfe as th'other is conſum'd. But if my hopes be not as is their vſe, Of brittle glaſſe, or that my deep deſire Make not my hope much greater then the truth, Here ſhall I ſee the ſun-beames of mine eyes. Here if I be not mockt I ſhall her ſee Stay her quick feete at ſound of my lament. Here ſhall my greedie eyes after long faſt Receiue ſweet foode from her diuineſt looke. Here will ſhe turne her ſon'raigne lights on mee, If not gentle, yet cruell will they bee. If not the meanes to breed mine inward ioy, So ierce, yet as I die to mine annoy. O happie day ſigh'd for long time in vaine, If after times ſo clouded with complaints Loue thou doſt graunt me ſight of her faire eies, I meane made bright as is the morning Sun, Hither Ergasto ſent me, where he ſaid Coriſca and my beauteous Amarillo Would be together playing at blind man buffe: Yet here ſee I none blind, ſaue my blind will, That wandring ſeekes her ſight by other meanes But findes it not. O poyſon to my food, This long delay blindeth my heart with feare. My cruell deſteny will neuer chaunge. Each houre, each moment that a Louer ſtaies Expecting his contentment, ſeemes a world. But who doth know? perhaps I ſtaid too long. And here Coriſca hath attended mee. Ay me! If this be true, then welcome death. BEhold the buffe! Behold indeed! ah ſight. Why ſtay ye now▪ Ah voice that haſt at once Both wounded me and healed me againe? Where be ye? what do ye? Liſetta you That ſo deſir'd this ſport, where are you now? Where is Coriſca? and where be the reſt? Now may't be truly ſaid that loue is blinde, And hath a ſcarſe that bindeth vp his eyes. Come liſt to me! guide me cleare of theſe trees, There ſet me in the paine, you round about A circle make and ſo begin the play. What ſhall I do? I ſee not how this ſport Can do me good, not I Coriſca ſee that is The load-ſtarre of my hopes. Heauens aide me. Why are ye come? think ye nought elſe to do But blind mine eies? Where are ye let's begin? Blind loue I do not trust to thee, That makes deſires full of obſcuritie. Thou haſt ſ all ſight leſſer troath, Vnhappie they that truſt thine oath. Blind or not blind thou tempest in vaine, For I can ſhift me in this plaine. Blind thou doſt ſee through Arons eies, Blind thou beſt ſighted ſafely ties. Now that I am at libertie, I were a foole to trust to thee. In test nor earnest I'le not ſtay, Becauſe thou kill'ſt when thou doſt play.