Il Pastor Fido, or The Faithful Shepherd · chunk 54 of 71
Dymoke, Tailboys / Guarini, Giovanni Battista · published 1602 · first performed or written 1601 (Annals) pastoral T19 Virtue, Fortune and Vice as abstractions typicality 0.82 · 498 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T19: virtue, fortune, virtues, honour, fame, vice, envy, world, pride, great.
Tell me Dorinda, doth thy wound still prick? It doth; but in thine arms my lovely treasure, I hold e'en pricking dear, and death a pleasure. O Sweet and golden age, when Milk Unto the tender World was meat: Whose Cradle was the harmless Wood, Their dearer parts whose grass like silk, The Flocks untouched, did joy to eat: Nor feared the World the spoil of blood, The troublous thoughts that do no good Did not then make a cloudy vail To dim our suns eternal light: Now Reason being shut up quite, Clouds do our Wits skies over-haile: From whence it is strange lands we seek for ease, Ploughing with huge Oak trees the Ocean seas, This bootless superstutious voice, This subject profit less than vain, Of toys, of titles, and of sleight, Whom the mad World through worthless choice, Honour to name doth not disdain, Did not with tyranny delight, To rule our minds, but to sustain Trouble for troth, and for the right To maintain saith a firm decree amongst us men of each degree, Desire to do well was of right: Care of true Honour, happy to be named, Who what was lawful pleasure to us framed. Then in the pastures grony shade, Sweet Carroles and sharp Madrigals. Were flames unto dear lawful Love: There gentle Nymphs and Shepherds made Thoughts of their words, and in the dales Did Himen's joys and kisses move, far sweeter and of more behove, True lovers only did enjoy loves lively Roses and sweet Flowers, Whilst Wily-craft sound always showers, Showers of sharp will, and wills annoy: Were it in Woods or Caves for quiet rest, The name of Husband still was liked best. False wicked World, that courrest still With thy base mercenary name The souls chief good, and dost entice To nourish thought of new-found Will, With likelihoods 〈◊〉 again: Vnbridling euen secret vice, Like to a Net laid by device Among 〈◊〉 Flowers and sweet● spread 〈◊〉, Thou cloathst wild thoughts in 〈...〉, Esteeming seeming goodness, deeds, By which the life with Art deceive: Nor dost thou care (this Honour is thy act) What theft it be, so Love may hide the fact. But thou great Honour, great by right, Frame famous spirits in our hearts, Thou true Lord of each Noble breast: O thou that rulest Kings of might, Once turn thee into these our parts, Which wanting thee, cannot be blessed: Make their from out their mortal rest, With mighty and with powerful stanges, Who by a base unwarthy will Have left to work thy pleasure still, And left the worth of antiqur things: Let's hope our ills a truce will one day take. And let our hopes not waver no nor shake: Let's hope the setting sun will rise again, And that the skies when they most aarke appear, Do draw (though covered) after wished clear. THe place is ever good, where any thrives: And every place is native, to the wise.
seed 43: T13 · seed 44: T16 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Tell me Dorinda, doth thy wound ſtill pricke? It doth; but in thine armes my louelie treaſure, I hold eu'n pricking deare, and death a pleaſure. O Sweete and golden age, when Milke Vnto the tender World was meate: Whoſe Cradle was the harmeleſse Wood, Their dearer partes whoſe graſse like ſilke, The Flockes vntoucht, did ioy to eate: Nor feard the World the ſpoyle of blood, The troublous thoughts that do no good Did not then make a cloudy vaile To dimme our ſunnes eternall light: Now Reaſon being ſhut vp quight, Cloudes do our Wits skies ouer-haile: From whence it is ſtraunge landes we ſeeke for eaſe, Ploughing with huge Oake trees the Ocean ſeaes, This bootleſse ſuperſtutious voyce, This ſubiect profit leſse then vaine, Of toyes, of titles, and of ſleight, Whom the mad World through worthleſse choyce, Honor to name doth not diſdaine, Did not with tyranny delight, To rule our mindes, but to ſuſtaine Trouble for troth, and for the right To maintaine ſayth a firme decree Amonst vs men of each degree, Deſire to do well was of right: Care of true Honor, happy to be named, Who what was lawfull pleaſure to vs framed. Then in the paſtures grony ſhade, Sweete Carroles and ſharpe Madrigal. Were flames vnto deare lawfull Loue: There gentle Nimphes and Shepheards made Thoughts of their wordes, and in the dales Did Himen ioyes and kiſses moue, Farre ſweeter and of more behoue, True louers onely did enioy Loues liuely Roſes and ſweete Flowers, Whilſt Wily-craft ſound alwayes ſhowers, Showers of ſharpe will, and wills annoy: Were it in Woodes or Caues for quiet reſt, The name of Husband ſtill was likd beſt. Falſe wicked World, that courreſt ſtill With thy baſe mercenary name The ſoules chiefe good, and doſt entice To nouriſh thought of newfound Will, With likelihoodes againe: Ʋnbridling eu ſecret vice, Like to a Net layde by deuice Among Flowers and ſweet ſpread , Thou cloathſt vilde thoughtes in , Eſteeming ſeeming goodneſse, deedes, By which the life with Art deceiue: Nor doſt thou care (this Honor is thy act) What theft it be, ſo Loue may hide the fact. But thou great Honour, great by right, Frame famous spirits in our hartes, Thou true Lord of each Noble breſt: O thou that ruleſt Kinges of might, Once turne thee into thſe our partes, Which wanting thee, cannot be bleſt: Make ther from out their mortall reſt, With mightie and with powerfull stanges, Who by a baſe vnwarthy will Haue left to work thy pleaſure ſtill, And left the worth of antiqur thinges: Let's hope our ills a truce will one day take. And let our hopes not wauer no nor ſhake: Let's hope the ſetting ſunne will riſe againe, And that the skyes when they moſt aarke appeare, Do dravv (though couer'd) after vviſhed cleare. THe place is euer good, where any thriues: And euery place is natiue, to the wiſe.