Il Pastor Fido, or The Faithful Shepherd · chunk 44 of 71
Dymoke, Tailboys / Guarini, Giovanni Battista · published 1602 · first performed or written 1601 (Annals) pastoral unassigned nearest T7 The Trojan war: conflict and its afterma · 477 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T7: hector, troy, achilles, greeks, aeneas, priam, ulysses, troilus, trojan, trojans.
I do not know, because I came away For fear of being seen: But I believe That solemnly they mean to carry it Unto the Temple, as my Silvio vowed. And mean you not to change these rusty clothes? Yes wis full fain, but Liep●●e hath my Gown, And promised t'attende me at this Spring, But 〈◊〉 miss: dear Linco if thou lov'st me Go seek him in these Woods, he is not far, I'll rest me in the mean time by this Den, For weariness makes me to sleep desire, Nor would I home return in this attire. I go, and stir not you till I return. shepherds, have you not heard our Demi-God Montanus, worthy son of Hercules descent, Hath slain the dreadful Boor, that did infest All Arcady, and now he doth prepare To satisfy his Vows, if we will thankful be For such a benefit, let's go and meet him, And give him all the reverence that we can. Oh doleful fortune! Oh most bitter chance! Immedicable wound, Oh mournful day! What voice of horror and of plaint hear we? Stars foomen to our good, thus mock you us? Did you so high our hopes lift up, that with Their fall you might us plague the more? This seems Ergasto, and 'tis surely he. Why do I Stars accuse, accuse thyself, That brought'st the Iron to loves anvil so, Thou didst it strike, thou mad'st the sparks fly out From whence this fire grows so unquenchable: But heavens do know my pity brought me to't. Oh hapless Lovers, wretched Amarillis, Unfortunate Titirus, childless father, Sad Montanus, desolate Arcadia: Oh miserable we; and to conclude, All that I see, speak, hear, or think, most miserable. What wretched accident is this that doth contain So many miseries? Gow ' Shepherds Go '! Let's meet with him: Eternal heavenly powers, Will not your rage yet cease? Speak good Ergasto, What lamentable chance is this thou plainst? Dear friends, I plain us all the ruin of Arcadia. What's this? The prop of all our hopes is down. Ah speak more plain. Daughter of Titirus, The only branch of her decaying stock, Hope of our health, which to Montanus son, Was by the heavens promised and destenied, Whose marriage should have freed Arcadia, Wise Amarillis, Nymph celestial, Pattern of honour, flower of chastity: My heart will not give me leave to speak. Why, is she dead? Nay doomed to death. Ay me, what's this. Nay worse, With infamy. infamous. Found with the adult'rour, & if hence ye go not soon, Ye may her see led captive to the Temple. Oh rare! but wicked, valour of this female sex, Oh chastity, how singular thou art, Scarce can a man say any woman's chaste, Save she that ne'er was tried; unhappy age: But courteous Shepherd, tell us how it was?
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)
I do not know, becauſe I came away For feare of being ſeene: But I beleeue That ſolemnly they meane to carry it Vnto the Temple, as my Siluio vow'd. And meane you not to change theſe ruſtie cloathes? Yes wis full faine, but Liepe hath my Gowne, And promiſed t'attende me at this Spring, But miſſe: deare Linco if thou lou'ſt me Goe ſeeke him in theſe Woods, he is not farre, I'le reſt me in the meane time by this Den, For weerineſſe makes me to ſleepe deſire, Nor would I home returne in this attire. I go, and ſtirre not you till I returne. SHepheardes, haue you not heard our Demi-God Montanus, worthy ſonne of Hercules diſcent, Hath ſlaine the dreadfull Boore, that did infeſt All Arcady, and now he doth prepare To ſatisfie his Vowes, if we will thankefull bee For ſuch a benefite, lets go and meete him, And giue him all the reuerence that we can. Oh dolefull fortune! Oh moſt bitter chaunce! Immedicable wounde, Oh mornefull day! What voyce of horror and of plaint heare wee? Starres foomen to our good, thus mocke you vs? Did you ſo high our hopes lift vp, that with Their fall you might vs plague the more? This ſeemes Ergaſto, and t'is ſurely hee. Why do I Starres accuſe, accuſe thy ſelfe, That brought'ſt the Yron to Loues Anuile ſo, Thou didſt it ſtrike, thou mad'ſt the ſparkes fly out From whence this fire growes ſo vnquenchable: But heauens do know my pittie brought me to't. Oh haples Louers, wretched Amarillis, Vnfortunate Titirus, childles father, Sad Montanus, deſolate Arcadia: Oh miſerable we; and to conclude, All that I ſee, ſpeake, heare, or thinke, moſt miſerable. What wretched accident is this that doth containe So many miſeries? Gow' Shepheards Gow'! Lets meete with him: Eternall heauenly powers, Will not your rage yet ceaſe? Speake good Ergaſto, What lamentable chaunce is this thou plainſt? Deare friendes, I plaine vs all the ruine of Arcadia. What's this? The prop of all our hopes is downe. Ah ſpeake more plaine. Daughter of Titirus, The onely branch of her decaying ſtocke, Hope of our health, which to Montanus ſonne, Was by the heauens promiſt and deſteied, Whoſe marriage ſhould haue freed Arcadia, Wiſe Amarillis, Nimph celeſtiall, Patterne of honor, flowre of chaſtetie: My hart wil not giue me leaue to ſpeak. Why, is ſhe dead? Nay doom'd to death. Ay me, what's this. Nay worſe, With infamie. infamous. Found with the adult'rour, & if hence ye go not ſoone, Ye may her ſee led captiue to the Temple. Oh rare! but wicked, valure of this female ſexe, Oh chaſtetie, how ſinguler thou art, Scarce can a man ſay any woman's chaſt, Saue ſhe that ne're was try'd; vnhappy age: But curteous Shepheard, tell vs how it was?