The Queen's Arcadia (Arcadia Reformed) · chunk 30 of 41
Daniel, Samuel · published 1606 · first performed or written 1605 [Aug 30] (Annals) pastoral · before the Court T4 Love-longing and the lover's complaint typicality 0.75 · 498 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T4: love, heart, sweet, loves, fair, phillis, eyes, beauty, amyntas, lovers.
Ah go, go Cloris, haste away with speed. Why whether should I go? I know not where To find him now, and if he do this deed, It is his error, and no fault of mine. Yet pray thee Techne, which way went the man? Come Cloris, I will show which way he went, In most strange fury, and most desperate speed, Still crying, Cloris, hast thou done this deed? Why had not you stayed? and persuaded him? I could not stay him by no means I used. Though all the means I could devise I used. Well I will go, poor man, to seek him out, Though I can do him else, no other good. I know indeed he hath deserved my love, And if I would like any, should be him, So that I thought he would be true to me. But thus my dream may now chance come to pass, And I may happen to bring home indeed Montanus' son, Amyntas that dear Lamb He loves so well, and by my gracious deed, He may escape the danger he was in. Which if I do, and thereby do enthrall myself, to free another's misery, Then will I sit and sigh, and talk of love As well as you, and have your company. For something I do feel begin to move, And yet I hope 'tis nothing else but fear; Yet what know I? that fear may hap be love. Well Techne come, I would not have him yet To perish, poor Amyntas in this fit. Well Cloris yet he may, for aught I see Before you come, unless you make more haste. Ah cruel maid, she little knows the grief Of such a heart that's desperate of relief, Nor understands she her own happiness, To have so true a lover as he is. And yet I see she's touched, if not too late, For I perceived her colour come and go, And though in pride she would have hid her woe, Yet I saw sorrow look out at her eyes. And poor Amyntas if thou now be gone, Thou hast (like to the Bee that stinging dies, And in another's wound left his own life) Transpierced by thy death, that marble heart, Which living thou, couldst touch by no desert. And if thou shalt escape, thou hast survived Her cruelty, which now repents her wrong, And thou shalt by her favours be revived, After the affliction thou hast suffered long. Which makes me think, that time, and patience may intenerate at length the hardest heart, And that I may yet after all my woe, Live t'overtake Carinus mercy too. And here this sad distress of such a true, And constant lover, overcome with grief, Presents unto my guilty memory The wrongs, Mirtillus hath endured of me. And o I would I knew now how he doth, I fear he is not well, I saw him not Scarce these three days, I marvel where he is,
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)
Ah goe, goe Cloris, haste away with speed. Why whether should I goe? I know not where To finde him now, and if he doe this deed, It is his error, and no fault of mine. Yet pray thee Techne, which way went the man? Come Cloris, I will shew which way he went, In most strange furie, and most desperate speed, Still crying, Cloris, hast thou done this deed? Why had not you staid? and perswaded him? I could not stay him by no meanes I vsd. Though all the meanes I could deuise I vsd. Well I will goe, poore man, to seeke him out, Though I can do him else, no other good. I know indeed he hath deseru'd my loue, And if I would like any, should be him, So that I thought he would be true to me. But thus my dreame may now chance come to passe, And I may happen to bring home indeed Montanus sonne, Amyntas that deere Lambe He loues so well, and by my gracious deed, He may escape the danger he was in. Which if I doe, and thereby doe inthrall My selfe, to free anothers misery, Then will I sit and sigh, and talke of loue As well as you, and haue your company. For something I doe feele begin to moue, And yet I hope 'tis nothing else but feare; Yet what know I? that feare may hap be loue. Well Techne come, I would not haue him yet To perish, poore Amyntas in this fit. Well Cloris yet he may, for ought I see Before you come, vnlesse you make more haste. Ah cruell maide, she little knowes the griefe Of such a heart that's desperate of reliefe, Nor vnderstands she her owne happinesse, To haue so true a louer as he is. And yet I see sh'is toucht, if not too late, For I perceiu'd her coulour come and goe, And though in pride she would haue hid her woe, Yet I saw sorrow looke out at her eyes. And poore Amyntas if thou now be gone, Thou hast (like to the Bee that stinging dyes, And in anothers wound leaft his owne life) Transpierced by thy death, that marble heart, Which liuing thou, couldst touch by no desert. And if thou shalt escape, thou hast suruiu'd Her crueltie, which now repents her wrong, And thou shalt by her fauours be reuiu'd, After the affliction thou hast suffred long. Which makes me thinke, that time, and patience may Intenerat at length the hardest heart, And that I may yet after all my woe, Liue t'ouertake Carinus mercie too. And here this sad distresse of such a true, And constant louer, ouercome with griefe, Presents vnto my guilty memorie The wrongs, Mirtillus hath indur'd of me. And ô I would I knew now how he doth, I feare he is not well, I saw him not Scarse these three dayes, I meruaile where he is,