Anonymous · published 1607 · first performed or written 1602 [1601-1602] (Annals) comedy · Unknown T4 Love-longing and the lover's complaint typicality 0.76 · 490 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T4: love, heart, sweet, loves, fair, phillis, eyes, beauty, amyntas, lovers.
What brother Anthony, at prayers so hard? Tell me what saint it is thou invocates? Is it a male, or female? howsoever, God bless thee brother, thouart in a good mind, But now I remember me, thy saint is blind. How, blind? I brother, blind, I heard thee talk of love, And love is blind they say. I would it were as blind as Ebon night, That love had never hit my heart so right; But what is love in your opinion? A voluntary motion of delight, Touching the superficies of the soul; A substance less divine then is the soul, Yet more than any other power in man Is that which loves, yet neither is enforced, Nor doth enforce the heart of man to love: Which motion as it unbeseems a man, So by the soul and reason which adorn, The life of man it is extinguished, Even at his pleasure that it doth possess. Thus may the freeman jest at manacles, The fur-clad citizen laugh at a storm, The swarthy Moore diving to gather pearl, Challenge the scalding ardour of the sun; And aged Nestor sitting in his tent, May term wounds sport, & war but merriment. 'tis true, fore God it is, and now methinks, My heart begins to pity hearts in love: Say once more, Anthony, tell me thy griefs, Let me have feeling of my passion, Possess me deeply of thy melting state, And thou shalt see. That thou wilt pity me, No by my troth, if every tale of love, Or love itself, or fool-bewitching beauty, Make me cross-arm myself; study ay-mees; Defy my hatband; tread beneath my feet Shoestrings and garters; practise in my glass Distressed looks, and dry my liver up, With sighs enough to win an argosy. If ever I turn thus fantastical, Love plague me, never pity me at all. Yonder she comes that holds me prisoner. What? Phillis, the fair maid of the Exchange? Is she god Cupid's judge over men's hearts? Brother, i'll have one veny with her tongue, To breath my wit, and jest at passion: By your leave Mistress Flower. Your rude behaviour scarce offers you welcome. I prithee tell me Phillis, I hear say, Thou keep'st love captive in thy maiden thoughts. That is a thought beyond your reach to know. But shall I know it? On what acquaintance? then might you deem me fond, If (as you say) love be at my command. May not your friend command as great a matter? I'll know him well first, for that friend may flatter. Why, I hope you know me. That's a question. Well, if you do not, you shall before I stir. Know you yonder lump of melancholy, Yonder bundle of sighs yonder wad of groans, The same and I were chickens of one brood, And if you know him, as I am sure you do, Being his brother, you needs must know me too.
seed 43: T2 · seed 44: T3 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
What brother Anthony, at praiers so hard? Tell me what saint it is thou inuocates? Is it a male, or female? howsoeuer, God blesse thee brother, th'art in a good mind, But now I remember me, thy saint is blind. How, blind? I brother, blind, I heard thee talke of loue, And loue is blind they say. I would it were as blinde as Ebon night, That loue had neuer hit my heart so right; But what is loue in your opinion? A voluntary motion of delight, Touching the superficies of the soule; A substance lesse diuine then is the soule, Yet more then any other power in man Is that which loues, yet neither is enforc'd, Nor doth enforce the heart of man to loue: Which motion as it vnbeseemes a man, So by the soule and reason which adorne, The life of man it is extinguished, Euen at his pleasure that it doth possesse. Thus may the free-man iest at mannacles, The furre-clad citizen laugh at a storme, The swartie Moore diuing to gather pearle, Challenge the scalding ardor of the sunne; And aged Nestor sitting in his tent, May tearme wounds sport, & warre but merriment. Tis true, fore God it is, and now me thinks, My heart begins to pittie hearts in loue: Say once more, Anthony, tell me thy griefes, Let me haue feeling of my passion, Possesse me deeply of thy melting state, And thou shalt see. That thou wilt pittie me, No by my troth, if euery tale of loue, Or loue it selfe, or foole-bewitching beautie, Make me crosse-arme my selfe; studdy ay-mees; Defie my hat-band; tread beneath my feete Shoo-strings and garters; practise in my glasse Distressed lookes, and dry my liuer vp, With sighes enough to win an argosie. If euer I turne thus fantastical, Loue plague me, neuer pittie me at all. Yonder she comes that holds me prisoner. What? Phillis, the faire maid of the Exchange? Is she god Cupids iudge ouer mens hearts? Brother, ile haue one venny with her tongue, To breathe my wit, and iest at passion: By your leaue Mistresse Flower. Your rude behauiour scarse offers you welcome. I prethee tell me Phillis, I heare say, Thou keepst loue captiue in thy maiden thoughts. That is a thought beyond your reach to know. But shall I know it? On what acquaintance? then might you deeme mee fond, If (as you say) loue be at my command. May not your friend command as great a matter? Ile know him well first, for that friend may flatter. Why, I hope you know me. That's a question. Well, if you doe not, you shall before I stirre. Know you yonder lump of melancholie, Yonder bundle of sighes yonder wad of grones, The same and I were chickins of one broode, And if you know him, as I am sure you doe, Being his brother, you needes must know me too.