Marston, John · published 1602 · first performed or written 1602 (Annals) comedy · Children of Paul's (second) unassigned nearest T4 Love-longing and the lover's complaint · 483 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T4: love, heart, sweet, loves, fair, phillis, eyes, beauty, amyntas, lovers.
I'll follow you. Boy, pree stay a little. Thou hast had a good voice, if this cold marsh, Wherein we lurk, have not corrupted it. I pray thee sing, but sirrah (mark you me) Let each note breath the heart of passion, The sad extracture of extremest grief. Make me a strain; speak, groaning like a bell, That tolls departing souls. Breath me a point that may enforce me weep, To wring my hands, to break my cursed breast, Rave, and exclaim, lie groveling on the earth, Straight start up frantic, crying, Mellida. Sing but, Antonio hath lost Mellida, And thou shalt see me (like a man possessed) Howl out such passion, that even this brinish marsh Will squeeze out tears, from out his spongy cheeks, The rocks even groan, and Pree thee, pree thee sing: Or I shall near ha' done when I am in. 'tis harder for me end, than to begin. For look thee boy, my grief that hath no end, I may begin to plain, but pree sing. Heaven keep you sir. Heaven keep you from me, sir. I must be acquainted with you, sir. Wherefore? Art thou infected with misery, Seared with the anguish of calamity? Art thou true sorrow, hearty grief, canst weep? I am not for thee if thou canst not rave, Fall flat on the ground, and thus exclaim on heaven; O trifling Nature, why enspiredst thou breath Stay sir, I think you named Mellida. Know'st thou Mellida? Yes. Hast thou seen Mellida? Yes. Then hast thou seen the glory of her sex, The music of Nature, the unequalled lustre Of unmatched excellence, the united sweet Of heavens graces, the most adored beauty, That ever struck amazement in the world. You seem to love her. With my very soul. She'll not requite it: all her love is fixed Upon a gallant, on Antonio, The Duke of Genoa's son. I was her Page: And often as I waited, she would sigh; O, dear Antonio; and to strengthen thought, Would clip my neck, and kiss, and kiss me thus. Therefore leave loving her: fa, faith methinks, Her beauty is not half so ravishing As you discourse of; she hath a freckled face, A low forehead, and a lumpish eye. O heaven, that I should hear such blasphemy. Boy, rogue, thou liest, and Spavento dell mio core dolce Mellida, Di grava morte restoro vero dolce Mellida, Celesta salvatrice sourana Mellida Del mio sperar; trofeo vero Mellida. Diletta & soave anima mia Antonio, Godevole belezza cortese Antonio. signor mio & virginal amore bell' Antonio Gusto delli mei sensi, car' Antonio. O svamisce il cour in un soave baccio, Murono i sensi nel desiato dessio: Nell Cielo puo lesser belta pia chiara. Nell mondo pol esser belta pia chiara? Dammi un baccio da quella bocca beata, Bassiammi, coglier l' aur a odorata Che in sua neggia in quello dolce labra.
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)
Ile follow you. Boy, pree thee stay a little. Thou hast had a good voice, if this colde marshe, Wherein we lurke, haue not corrupted it. I pree thee sing, but sirra (marke you me) Let each nore breath the heart of passion, The sad extracture of extreamest griefe. Make me a straine; speake, groning like a bell, That towles departing soules. Breath me a point that may inforce me weepe, To wring my hands, to breake my cursed breast, Raue, and exclaime, lie groueling on the earth, Straight start vp frantick, crying, Mellida. Sing but, Antonio hath lost Mellida, And thou shalt see mee (like a man possest) Howle out such passion, that euen this brinish marsh Will squease out teares, from out his spungy cheekes, The rocks euen groane, and Pree thee, pree thee sing: Or I shall nere ha done when I am in. Tis harder for me end, then to begin. For looke thee boy, my griefe that hath no end, I may begin to playne, but pree thee sing. Heauen keepe you sir. Heauen keepe you from me, sir. I must be acquainted with you, sir. Wherefore? Art thou infected with misery, Sear'd with the anguish of calamitie? Art thou true sorrow, hearty griefe, canst weepe? I am not for thee if thou canst not raue, Fall flat on the ground, and thus exclaime on heauen; O trifling Nature, why enspiredst thou breath Stay sir, I thinke you named Mellida. Know'st thou Mellida? Yes. Hast thou seene Mellida? Yes. Then hast thou seene the glory of her sex, The musick of Nature, the vnequall'd lustre Of vnmatched excellence, the vnited sweete Of heauens graces, the most adored beautie, That euer strooke amazement in the world. You seeme to loue her. With my very soule. Shele not requite it: all her loue is fixt Vpon a gallant, on Antonio, The Duke of Genoas sonne. I was her Page: And often as I waited, she would sigh; O, deere Antonio; and to strengthen thought, Would clip my neck, and kisse, and kisse me thus. Therefore leaue louing her: fa, faith me thinks, Her beautie is not halfe so rauishing As you discourse of; she hath a freckled face, A lowe forehead, and a lumpish eye. O heauen, that I should heare such blasphemie. Boy, rogue, thou liest, and Spauento dell mio core dolce Mellida, Di graua morte restor vero dolce Mellida, Celesta saluatrice sovrana Mellida Del mio sperar; trofeo vero Mellida. Diletta & soaue anima mia Antonio, Godeuole belezza cortese Antonio. Signior mio & virginal amore bell' Antonio Gusto delli mei sensi, car' Antonio. O suamisce il cor in vn soaue baccio, Murono i sensi nel desiato dessio: Nel Cielo puo lesser belta pia chiara. Nel mondo pol esser belta pia chiara? Dammi vn baccio da quella bocca beata, Bassiammi, coglier l' aur a odorata Che in sua neggia in quello dolce labra.