Il Pastor Fido, or The Faithful Shepherd · chunk 60 of 71
Dymoke, Tailboys / Guarini, Giovanni Battista · published 1602 · first performed or written 1601 (Annals) pastoral unassigned nearest T36 Hell, Furies and the language of punishm · 512 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T36: hell, earth, gods, death, ghosts, blood, bloody, heaven, night, ghost.
If I be not deceived, I see a thing that by his back seemeth a man: He kneels: he is perhaps the holocaust. O wretch 'tis so, the Priest holds him by th'ead: And hast thou not unhappy country yet, After so many years heavens rage's appeased? O daughter of great Ioue, sister of Phoebus' bright, Thou second Titan, to the blinder world that givest light. Revengeful Goddess that for private fault, Dost public punishment on us inflict, (Whether it be thy only will, or else Eternal providence immutable command) Since the infected blood of (Lucrina false) Might not thy burning justice then appease, Drink now this innocent and voluntary Sacrifice, No lesser faithful than Amintas was, That at thy sacred Altar in thy dire revenge I kill. O daughter of great Ioue, sister of Phoebus' bright, Thou second Titan, to the blinder world that givest light. Oh how I feel my heart wax tender now, Binding my senses with unusual maze: So both my heart not dares, my hands unable are To lift this Axe. I'll see this wretch's face, And then depart: for pity will not let me stay. Perhaps against the Sun my strength doth fail, And 'tis a fault to sacrifice against the Sun, Turn thou thy dying face toward this hill. So now, 'tis well. O wretch! what do I see? My son Mirtillo, Is not this my son? So now I can. It is even so. Who lets my blow? What dost thou sacred Priest? O man profane, Why hast thou held this holy Axe? how darest Thou thy rash hands inpose upon the same? O my Mirtillo, how camest thou to this? Go dotard old and foolish insolent. I never thought t'have thee embraced thus. Patch stand aside, thou mayst not handle things Sacred unto the Gods, with hands impure. Dear to thee Gods am also I, that by Their good direction hither came even now. N●...er cease, hear him, and turn him hence. Then courteous Priest, before thy sword doth light Upon his neck, Why dies this wretched Boy? ay, why the Goddess thou adorest, beseech thee tell? By such a heavenly power thou coniur'st me, That I were wicked, if thee denied: But what wilt profit thee? More than thou think'st. Because he for an other willing is to die. die for an other? then I for him will die: For pity then, thy falling blow direct, In stead of his, upon this wretched neck. Thou dotest friend. And will you me deny That which you grant another man? Thou art A Stranger man. How if I were not so? Nor couldst thou, for he dies but by exchange. But tell me, what art thou? thy habit shows Thou art a Stranger, no Arcadian borne. I an Arcadian am. I not remember That I ever saw thee erst. here was I borne, and father of this wretch. Art thou Mirtilloes father then? thou com'st both for thyself and me: Stand now aside, least with thy father's tears, Thou makest fruitless, vain our Sacrifice.
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)
If I be not deceiu'd, I ſee a thing that by his backe ſeemeth a man: He kneeles: he is perhappes the holocauſt. O wretch tis ſo, the Prieſt holdes him by th'ead: And haſt thou not vnhappy countrey yet, After ſo many yeeres heauens rage appeaſd? O daughter of great Ioue, ſiſter of Phebus bright, Thou ſecond Titan, to the blinder world that giueſt light. Reuengefull Goddeſſe that for priuate fault, Doſt publicke puniſhment on vs inflict, (Whether it be thy onely will, or els Eternall prouidence immutable commaund) Since the infected blood of (Lucrina falſe) Might not thy burning iuſtice then appeaſe, Drinke now this innocent and voluntarie Sacrifize, No leſſer faythfull then Amintas was, That at thy ſacred Aulter in thy dire reuenge I kill. O daughter of great Ioue, ſiſter of Phebus bright, Thou ſecond Titan, to the blinder world that giueſt light. Oh how I feele my hart waxe tender now, Binding my ſenſes with vnuſuall maze: So both my hart not dares, my handes vnable are To lift this Axe. Ile ſee this wretches face, And then depart: for pittie will not let me ſtay. Perhaps againſt the Sunne my ſtrength doth faile, And tis a fault to ſacrifize againſt the Sunne, Turne thou thy dying face toward this hill. So now, tis well. O wretch! what do I ſee? My ſonne Mirtillo, Is not this my ſonne? So now I can. It is euen ſo. Who lets my blow? What doſt thou ſacred Prieſt? O man prophane, Why haſt thou held this holy Axe? how dareſt Thou thy raſh handes inpoſe vpon the ſame? O my Mirtillo, how camſt thou to this? Goe dotard old and fooliſh inſolent. I neuer thought t'haue thee imbraced thus. Patch ſtand aſide, thou mayſt not handle thinges Sacred vnto the Gods, with handes impure. Deare to thee Gods am alſo I, that by Their good direction hither came euen now. Ner ceaſe, heare him, and turne him hence. Then courteous Prieſt, before thy ſword doth light Vpon his necke, Why dyes this wretched Boy? I, why the Goddeſſe thou ador'ſt, beſeech thee tell? By ſuch a heauenly power thou coniur'ſt mee, That I were wicked, if thee denied: But what wil't profit thee? More then thou think'ſt. Becauſe he for an other willing is to die. Dye for an other? then I for him will dye: For pittie then, thy falling blow direct, In ſtead of his, vpon this wretched necke. Thou doteſt friend. And will you me denie That which you graunt another man? Thou art A Stranger man. How if I were not ſo? Nor could'ſt thou, for he dyes but by exchange. But tell me, what art thou? thy habite ſhewes Thou art a Stranger, no Arcadian borne. I an Arcadian am. I not remember That I euer ſaw thee earſt. Heere was I borne, , and father of this wretch. Art thou Mirtilles father then? thou com'ſt both for thy ſelfe and mee: Stand now aſide, leaſt with thy fathers teares, Thou makeſt fruitleſſe, vaine our Sacrifize.