Il Pastor Fido, or The Faithful Shepherd · chunk 53 of 71
Dymoke, Tailboys / Guarini, Giovanni Battista · published 1602 · first performed or written 1601 (Annals) pastoral unassigned nearest T1 Death, grief and revenge · 503 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
Silvio, I wound that breast? thou hadst not need Let it be naked to mine eyes, if thou desirdst I should it wound. O dainty beauteous rock, So often beaten by the waves and winds Of my poor tears and sighs in vain: and is it true, Thou pity feelst? or am I wretch but mocked: I would not this same Alabaster skin Should me deceive, as this poor Beasts hath thee. I wound thy breast? 'tis well, Love durst do so. I ask no wore revenge, than thou shouldst love. Blessed be the day wherein I first did burn, Blessed be my tears and all my martyrdoms: I wish thy praise, and no revenge of thee. But courteous Silvio, that dost kneel to her, Whose Lord thou art; since me thou needs wilt serve, Let thy first service be, to rise when I thee bid: The second, that thou liv'st: for me, let heavens Work their will; in thee my heart will live: As long as thou dost live, I cannot die. But if it seem unjust my wound should be Unpunished, then break this cruel Bow, Let that be all the malice thou dost show. Oh courteous doom: and so't shallbe, Thou deadly Wood shalt pay the price of others life, Behold, I break thee, and I render thee Unto the Woods, a trunk unprofitable: And you my Shafts that pierced have the side O● my fair Love, because you brothers be I put you both together, and deliver you, Rods armed in vain, and vainly feathered. 'Twas true Love told me late in echoes voice. O powerful tamer both of Gods and men: Late enemy, now Lord of all my thoughts, I thou esteemest it glory to haue mollified A proud obdurate heart, Defend me from The fatal stroke of death? one only blow Killing Dorinda, will me with her kill: So cruel death, if cruel death she prove, Will triumph over thee triumphant love. So wounded both, yet wounds most fortunate, Were but Dorindaes' sound. Let's soon go seek Some remedy. Do not good Linco lead Me to my father's house in this attire. Shall my Dorinda go to other house Then unto mine? no sure: alive or dead This day I'll marry thee. And in good time, Since Amarillis hath lost life and marriage too. O blessed couple! O eternal Gods! Give two their lives, giving but one her health. Silvio I weary am, I cannot hold me on My wounded side. Be of good cheer, Thou shalt a burden be to us most dear. Linco give me thy hand. Hold there it is. Hold fast, and with our arms we'll make a seat For her. Sit there Dorinda, and with thy right hand Hold Lincoes' neck, and with thy left close mine: Softly my heart, for rushing of thy wound. O now me thinks I am well. Sil. Linco hold fast. Do not you stagger, but go forward right, This is a better triumph than a head.
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Siluio, I wound that breſt? thou hadſt not need Let it be naked to mine eyes, if thou deſirdſt I ſhould it wound. O daintie beauteous rocke, So often beaten by the waues and windes Of my poore teares and ſighes in vaine: and is it true, Thou pittie feelſt? or am I wretch but mockt: I would not this ſame Alablaſter skin Should me deceiue, as this poore Beaſtes hath thee. I wound thy breſt? t'is well, Loue durſt do ſo. I aske no wore reuenge, then thou ſhouldſt loue. Bleſt be the day wherein I firſt did burne, Bleſt be my teares and all my martirdomes: I wiſh thy prayſe, and no reuenge of thee. But curteous Siluio, that doſt kneele to her, Whoſe Lord thou art; ſince mee thou needes wilt ſerue, Let thy firſt ſeruice be, to riſe when I thee bid: The ſecond, that thou liu'ſt: for mee, let heauens Worke their will; in thee my hart will liue: As long as thou doſt liue, I cannot die. But if it ſeeme vniuſt my wound ſhould be Vnpuniſhed, then breake this cruell Bowe, Let that be all the mallice thou doſt ſhow. Oh curtuous doome: and ſo't ſhalbe, Thou deadly Wood ſhalt pay the price of others life, Behold, I breake thee, and I render thee Ʋnto the Woodes, a trunke vnprofitable: And you my Shaftes that pierced haue the ſide O my faire Loue, becauſe you brothers bee I put you both togither, and deliuer you, Roddes armd in vaine, and vainely feathered. T'was true Loue tolde me late in Ecchoes voyce. O powerfull tamer both of Gods and men: Late enemie, now Lord of all my thoughtes, I thou eſteemeſt it glory to haue mollified A proude obdurate hart, Defende me from The fatall ſtroke of death? one onely blow Killing Dorinda, will me with her kill: So cruell death, if cruell death ſhe proue, Will triumph ouer thee triumphant loue. So wounded both, yet woundes moſt fortunate, Were but Dorindaes ſownd. Let's ſoone go ſeeke Some remedie. Do not good Linco lead Me to my fathers houſe in this attire. Shall my Dorinda go to other houſe Then vnto mine? no ſure: aliue or dead This day I'le marrie thee. And in good time, Since Amarillis hath loſt life and marriage too. O bleſſed couple! O eternall Gods! Giue two their liues, giuing but one her health. Siluio I weary am, I cannot hold me on My wounded ſide. Be of good cheere, Thou ſhalt a burthen be to vs moſt deare. Linco giue me thy hand. Hold there it is. Hold faſt, and with our armes wee'le make a ſeate For her. Sit there Dorinda, and with thy right hand Hold Lincoes necke, and with thy left cloſe mine: Softly my hart, for ruſhing of thy wound. O now mee thinkes I am well. Sil. Linco hold faſt. Do not you ſtagger, but go forward right, This is a better triumph then a head.