Il Pastor Fido, or The Faithful Shepherd · chunk 37 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 0.80 · 537 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T4: love, heart, sweet, loves, fair, phillis, eyes, beauty, amyntas, lovers.
For aught that I can see you never tried Love but in cruel moods, but in disdain. Oh if you had but proved him one time kind, Prove him but so, & you shall see how sweet a thing It is t'enjoy a grateful Nymph; she'll you adore, she'll make your Amarillis bitter to your taste. How dear a thing it is wholly to have What you desire, and be nought bar thereof. Here your Nymph sigh to cool your scalding sighs, And after say (my dear) all that you see is yours. If I be fair, I am only fair for you: Only for you I cherish these my cheeks, My locks, my breast, your dear hearts only lodge. But this (alas) is but a brook to that Great Sea of sweets which we in love might taste, Which none can utter save by proof. Thousand times blessed that under such a star is borne. Here me (Mirtillo) how like I was t'have said My heart) a Nymph as gentle as the wind Doth blow upon with hair of glistering gold, As worthy of your love as you of hers, Praise of these woods, love of a thousand hearts, By worthy youths in vain solicited, You only loves more than her heart, her life, If you be wise do not despise her then. She like a shadow to thyself will be, A faithful follower of thy footsteps ever, One at thy word, obedient at thy beck, All hours of day and night at thy command. Do not forsake this rare adventure then, No pleasure in this earth so sweet as this, It will not cost a tear, no not a sigh. A joy accommodated to thy will, A sweetness tempered sweetly to thy taste, Is't not a treasure worth the having (man)? Leave then the feet of flying hopeless trace, And her that follows thee, scorn not t'embrace. I feed you not with hopes of vanity. If you desire to see her, you shall see her straight. My heart's no subject for these loves delights. Prove it but once, and then return again Unto thy solitary grief, so mayst thou see What are those joys that in loves pleasures be. A taste corrupted, pleasant things abhors. Be not you cruel yet to rob her life, That on your eye, depends, you know what 'tis To beg with poverty, if you desire Pity yourself, do it not her deny. What pity can he give that none can get? In sum I am resolved whilst here I live, To keep my faith to her how ere she prove, Cruel or pitiful, or how she will. (Oh truly blind, unhappy senseless man) To whom preseru'st thou faith? trust me I am loath T'augment thy grief, but for the love I bear thee I cannot choose. Thinkst Amarillis is unkind For zeal she to religion bears? Or unto chastity? Thou art a fool, The room is occupied and thou must weep Whilst others laugh. What? now thouart dumb. Now stands my life in midst twixt life and death, Whilst I in doubt do stand, if to believe, Or not believe, this makes me so amazed. You'll not believe me then?
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)
For ought that I can ſee you neuer try'd Loue but in cruell moodes, but in diſdaine. Oh if you had but prou'd him one time kind, Proue him but ſo, & you ſhal ſee how ſweet a thing It is t'enioy a gratefull Nymph; ſheel'e you adore, Shee'le make your Amarillis bitter to your taſte. How deare a thing it is wholy to haue What you deſire, and be nought bard thereof. Here your Nymph ſigh to coole your ſcalding ſighs, And after ſay (my deere) all that you ſee is yours. If I be faire, I am onely faire for you: Onely for you I cheriſh theſe my cheekes, My lockes, my breſt, your deare hearts onely lodge. But this (alaſe) is but a brooke to that Great Sea of ſweets which we in loue might taſte, Which none can vtter ſaue by proofe. Thouſand times bleſt that vnder ſuch a ſtar is borne. Here me (Mirtillo) how like I was t'haue ſaid My heart) a Nymph as gentle as the winde Doth blow vpon with haire of gliſtering gold, As worthy of your loue as you of hers, Praiſe of theſe woods, loue of a thouſand hearts, By worthy youthes in vaine ſollicited, You onely loues more then her heart, her life, If you be wiſe do not diſpiſe her then. She like a ſhadow to thy ſelfe will be, A faithfull follower of thy footſteps euer, One at thy word, obedient at thy becke, All houres of day and night at thy commaund. Do not forſake this rare aduenture then, No pleaſure in this earth ſo ſweet as this, It will not coſt a teare, no not a ſigh. A ioy accommodated to thy will, A ſweetneſſe temp'red ſweetly to thy taſte, Is't not a treaſure worth the hauing (man)? Leaue then the feet of flying hopeleſſe trace, And her that followes thee, ſcorne not t'embrace. I feed you not with hopes of vanitie. If you deſire to ſee her, you ſhall ſee her ſtraight. My hart's no ſubiect for theſe loues delights. Proue it but once, and then returne againe Vnto thy ſollitary griefe, ſo may'ſt thou ſee What are thoſe ioyes that in loues pleaſures bee. A taſte corrupted, pleaſant things abhors. Be not you cruel yet to rob her life, That on your eye, depends, you know what t'is To beg with pouertie, if you deſire Pitie your ſelfe, do it not her denie. What pitie can he giue that none can get? In ſumme I am reſolu'd whilſt here I liue, To keepe my faith to her how ere ſhe proue, Cruell or pitifull, or how ſhe will. (Oh truly blind, vnhappie ſenceleſſe man) To whom preſeru'ſt thou faith? truſt me I am loth T'augment thy griefe, but for the loue I beare thee I cannot chooſe. Thinkſt Amarillis is vnkind For zeale ſhe to religion beares? Or vnto chaſtitie? Thou art a foole, The roome is occupied and thou muſt weepe Whilſt others laugh. What? now th'art dumbe. Now ſtands my life in midſt twixt life and death, Whilſt I in doubt do ſtand, if to beleeue, Or not beleeue, this makes me ſo amaz'd. You'le not beleeue me then?