Il Pastor Fido, or The Faithful Shepherd · chunk 40 of 71
Dymoke, Tailboys / Guarini, Giovanni Battista · published 1602 · first performed or written 1601 (Annals) pastoral T1 Death, grief and revenge typicality 0.71 · 522 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
DOth this man than believe Corisea, following her steps Into the Cave of Eri●●a●. Well, he's mad, He knows her not; believe me he had need Have better hold of her engaged faith, Then I had of her hear: But knots more stranged, Then gaudy gifts on her he cannot tie. This damned Whore hath sold herself to him, And here she'll pay the shameful markets price. She is within, her steps bewray the same, This falls out for her punishment, and thy revenge: With this great ouerstu●ding stone close thou the Cave, Go then about, and fetch the Priest with thee: By the hill way which few or none do know, Let her be executed as the law commands, For breach of marriage troth, which she to Coridon Hath plighted, though she ever it concealed For fear of me, so shall I be revenged Of both at once, I'll lose no farther time: From off this Elm I'll cut a bough, with which I may more speedily remove this stone! Oh how great it is! How fast it sticks. I'll dig it round about. This is a work in deed: Where are my wonted forces: Oh perverse Stars! in spite of you I'll moved. Oh Pan Licciu, help me now, thou wert a lover once, Revenge thy love disdained, upon Corisea. So, in the name of thy great power it moves. So, in the Power of thy great name it falls. Now is the wicked Fox ta'en in the trap. Oh that all wicked Women were with thee within, That with one fire they might be all destroyed. HOw Puissant art thou Love, Nature's miracle, and the worlds wonder? What savage nation, or what rustic heart Is it that of thy power feels no part? But what Wit's so profound can pull asunder That powers strength? Who feels those flames thy fire lights at length, Immoderate and vain, Will say amortall sprite thou sole dost reign And live, in the corporal and fleshly breast. But who feels after how a lover is wakened to Virtue, and how all those flames Do tremble out at sight of honest shames, (Vnbrid'led blust'ring lusts brought down to rest) Will call thee sprite of high immortal bliss, Having thy holy receptacle in the soul. Rare miracle of human: and divine aspects, (That blind) dost see, and Wisdom (mad) corrects, Of sense and understanding intellects, Of reason and desire confused affects. Such Empery hast thou on earth, And so the heavens above dost thou control: Yet (by your leave) a wonder much more rare, And more stupendious hath the world than you, For how you make all wonders yield and bow Is easily known. Your powers do berthe, And being taken from virtue of a woman fair. O Woman gift of the high heavenly sky, Or rather his who did their spangled gown So gorgeous make unto our mortal eye: What hath it which a Woman's beauty push not down, In his vast brow a monstrous Cicloplike, It only one eye hath, Which to beholding gazers gives no light, But rather doth with terror blindness, strike:
nodes 2522–2586 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 40 of 71 in this edition
Length
522 words · 689 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T1 — Death, grief and revengecross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.706 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
seed 43: T7 · seed 44: T1 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
DOth this man then beleeue Coriſea, following her ſteps Into the Caue of Eria. Well, hee's mad, He knowes her not; beleeue mee he had need Haue better hold of her ingaged fayth, Then I had of her heare: But knottes more ſtranged, Then gaudy guiftes on her he cannot tie. This damned Whoore hath ſold her ſelfe to him, And here ſhee'le pay the ſhamefull markets price. Shee is within, her ſteps bewray the ſame, This falles out for her puniſhment, and thy reuenge: With this great ouerſtuding ſtone cloſe thou the Caue, Goe then about, and fetch the Prieſt with thee: By the hill way which few or none do know, Let her be executed as the law commaunds, For breach of marriage troth, which ſhe to Coridon Hath plighted, though ſhe euer it conceal'd For feare of me, ſo ſhall I be reueng'd Of both at once, I'le leeſe no farther time: From off this Elme I'le cut a bough, with which I may more ſpeedely remoue this ſtone! Oh how great it is! How faſt it ſtickes. I'le digge it round about. This is a worke in deed: Where are my wonted forces: Oh peruerſe Starres! in ſpight of you I'le moou't. Oh Pan Licciu, helpe me now, thou wert a louer once, Reuenge thy loue diſdaind, vpon Coriſea. So, in the name of thy great power it mooues. So, in the Power of thy great name it falles. Now is the wicked Foxe ta'ne in the trappe. Oh that all wicked Women were with thee within, That with one fire they might be all deſtroyd. HOw Puiſſaunt art thou Loue, Natures miracle, and the Worldes wonder? What ſauadge nation, or what ruſticke hart Is it that of thy power feeles no part? But what Wit's ſo profound can pull aſunder That powers ſtrength? Who feeles thoſe flames thy fire lightes at length, Immoderate and vaine, Will ſay amortall ſpright thou ſole doſt raigne And liue, in the corporall and fleſhly breſt. But who feeles after how a louer is Wak'ned to Ʋertue, and how all thoſe flames Do tremble out at ſight of honeſt ſhames, (Ʋnbrid'led bluſt'ring lustes brought downe to reſt) Will call thee Spright of high immortall bliſſe, Hauing thy holy receptacle in the ſoule. Rare miracle of human: and diuine aſpectes, (That blind) doſt ſee, and Wiſedome (mad) corrects, Of ſence and vnderſtanding intellects, Of reaſon and deſire confus'd affects. Such Emperie haſt thou on earth, And ſo the heauens aboue doſt thou controule: Yet (by your leaue) a wonder much more rare, And more ſtupendious hath the world then you, For how you make all wonders yeeld and bow Is eaſely knowne. Your powers do berthe, And being taken from vertue of a woman faire. O Woman guift of the high heauenly ſkie, Or rather his who did their ſpangled gowne So gorgious make vnto our mortall eye: What hath it which a Womans beautie puſh not downe, In his vaſt brow a monſtrous Cicloplike, It onely one eye hath, Which to beholding gazers giues no light, But rather doth with terrour blindneſse, ſtrike: