Day, John · published 1633 · first performed or written 1606 (Annals) comedy · Children of the Queen's Revels · Blackfriars T22 Shepherds, flocks and Pan typicality 0.70 · 499 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T22: shepherd, pan, shepherds, love, sheep, flocks, fair, shepherdess, swain, away.
Me thinks Poets of all men should not edify, they are so envious. One to another, to nobody else: a Proud Poet is for all the world like a Punk in request, covetous of many Clients, when she hath more than she can handsomely play off: You shall have some Poet (Apollo's Vicar especially) write you a Comical, Pastoral, Tragical, Musical history in Prose, will make the Auditors eyes run a water like so many water-spouts; I had one of them myself, and your ears be in case, I'll give you a taste on't; his argument was fet out of the Poem called, The lost sheep, and thus it is. Prithee be brief. Nay peace, and it were in place where you might wake the best men in the parish, for commonly they sleep the beginning, because they love not division: but to the lost Sheep. Beloved, you must imagine this Sheep was a Sheep, a lost Sheep, a Sheep out a the way; but my dear Flock and loving Sheep, whom like a careful Shepherd I have gathered together, with the whistle or pipe, as it were of mine Eloquence, into this Fold of peaceful Community, do not you stray, do not you fly out, do not you wander, do not you lose yourselves; but like kind Sheep and valiant Rams, I speak to you the better part and head of my Flock: As I say, you shall see the valiant Rams turn all their horns together, and oppose themselves against the Wolf, the hungry Wolf, the greedy Wolf, the Lambes-devouring Wolf, the Wolf of all Wolves, to defend their Ewes and young ones. Durst you lay all your heads together, and with the horns of your Manhood defend your Families, your own Wives, and your neighbour's children: Was not this stinging gear? A good Sheepish admonition. The fitter for my audience; while you live have a care to fit your audience. Thou speakest like a Christian, prithee what Religion art of? How many soever I make use of, I'll answer with Piavano Orlotto the Italian; I profess the Duke's only. What's his reason for that? A very sound reason: for says he, I came raw into the world, and I would not willingly go roasted out: so close up the stomach of your discourse with that dry answer, and every man about his business. You'll be mindful of tomorrow night? As your Lawyer of the Term, or your Landlord of the Quarter-day. Why so: the mettle I must forge my plot on, lies a warming in the furnace of my brain; and I must fashion it instantly, for fear it burst with heat. Give my conceit way, for here comes one must help to proportion it. How now Demetrius, what wind hath blown up this storm of melancholy? thy countenance was not wont to be thus cloudy; Whence proceeds this sudden alteration? From mine own hard fortune my Lord, that my ill-starred nativity should continue thus opposite.
Other edition — placed after the fit, excluded from the main statistics
Position
nodes 897–911 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 28 of 43 in this edition
Length
499 words · 653 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T22 — Shepherds, flocks and Pancross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.700 (cosine to the topic centroid) · placed after the fit (approximate_predict), not counted in the topic statistics
Other seeds
seed 43: T24 · seed 44: T25 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Mee thinkes Poets of all men ſhould not edify, they are ſo envious. One to another, to nobody elſe: a Proud Poet is for all the world like a Puncke in requeſt, covetous of many Clients, when ſhe hath more then ſhee can handſomely play off: You ſhall have ſome Poet (Apolloes Vicar eſpecially) write you a Comicall, Paſtorall, Tragicall, Muſicall hiſtory in Proſe, will make the Auditors eyes runne a water like ſo many water-ſpouts; I had one of them my ſelfe, and your eares bee in caſe, Ile give you a taſt on't; his argument was fet out of the Poem called, The loſt ſheepe, and thus it is. Prithee be briefe. Nay peace, and it were in place where you might wake the beſt men in the pariſh, for commonly they ſleepe the beginning, becauſe they love not diviſion: but to the loſt Sheepe. Beloved, you muſt imagine this Sheepe was a Sheepe, a loſt Sheepe, a Sheepe out a the way; but my deare Flocke and loving Sheepe, whom like a carefull Shepheard I have gathered together, with the whiſtle or pipe, as it were of mine Eloquence, into this Fold of peacefull Communitie, doe not you ſtray, doe not you flie out, doe not you wander, doe not you looſe your ſelves; but like kinde Sheepe and valiant Rams, I ſpeake to you the better part and head of my Flocke: As I ſay, you ſhall ſee the valiant Rammes turne all their hornes together, and oppoſe themſelves againſt the Wolfe, the hungry Wolfe, the greedy Wolfe, the Lambes-devouring Wolfe, the Wolfe of all Wolfes, to defend their Eawes and young ones. Durſt you lay all your heads together, and with the hornes of your Manhood defend your Families, your owne Wives, and your neighbours children: Was not this ſtinging geere? A good Sheepiſh admonition. The fitter for my audience; while you live have a care to fit your audience. Thou ſpeakeſt like a Chriſtian, prithee what Religion art of? How many ſoever I make uſe of, Ile anſwer with Piavano Orlotto the Italian; I profeſſe the Dukes onely. What's his reaſon for that? A very ſound reaſon: for ſayes hee, I came raw into the world, and I would not willingly goe roſted out: ſo cloſe up the ſtomacke of your diſcourſe with that dry anſwer, and every man about his buſineſſe. You'l be mindfull of tomorrow night? As your Lawyer of the Tearme, or your Landlord of the Quarter-day. Why ſo: the mettle I muſt forge my plot on, lies a warming in the furnace of my braine; and I muſt faſhion it inſtantly, for feare it burſt vvith heat. Giue my conceit way, for here comes one muſt helpe to proportion it. How now Demetrius, what wind hath blowne up this ſtorme of melancholy? thy countenance was not wont to bee thus cloudy; Whence proceeds this ſudden alteration? From mine owne hard fortune my Lord, that my ill-ſtard nativitie ſhould continue thus oppoſite.