Anonymous · published 1607 · first performed or written 1602 [1601-1602] (Annals) comedy · Unknown T4 Love-longing and the lover's complaint typicality 0.80 · 505 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T4: love, heart, sweet, loves, fair, phillis, eyes, beauty, amyntas, lovers.
Peace Cripple, silence, name her not, I could not endure the career of her wit, for a million, she is the only she Mercury under the heavens; her wit is all spirit; that spirit fire, that fire flies from her tongue, able to burn the radix of the best invention; in this Element she is the abstract and brief of all the eloquence since the incarnation of Tully's I tell thee Cripple, I had rather encounter Hercules with blows, than Mall Berry with words: And yet by this light I am horribly in love with her. See where she comes, O excellent! Now have I no more blood than a bulrush. How now; what ail you sir? What's the matter man? See, see, that glorious angel doth approach, What shall I do? she is a saint indeed; Zounds to her, court her, win her, wear her, wed her, and bed her too. I would it were come to that, I win her! by heaven, I am not furnished of a courting phrase, to throw at a dog. Why no, but at a woman you have; O sir, seem not so doltish now, can you make no fustian, ask her if she'll take a pipe of Tobacco. It will offend her judgement, pardon me. But hear you sir? reading so much as you have done, Do you not remember one pretty phrase, To scale the walls of a fair wench's love? I never read any thing but Venus and Adonis. Why that's the very quintessence of love, If you remember but a verse or two, I'll pawn my head, goods, lands and all 'twill do. Why then have at her. Fondling I say, since I have hemmed thee here, Within the circle of this ivory pale, I'll be a park. Hands off fond sir. And thou shalt be my dear; Feed thou on me, and I will feed on thee, And Love shall feed us both. Feed you on woodcocks, I can fast awhile. Vouchsafe thou wonder to alight thy steed. Take heed, she's not on horseback. Why then she is alighted, Come sit thee down where never serpent hisses, And being set, i'll smother thee with kisses. Why is your breath so hot? now God forbid I should buy kisses to be smothered. Mean you me? you gull me not? No, no, poor Bowdler, thou dost gull thyself: Thus must I do to shadow the hid fire, That in my heart doth burn with hot desire: O I do love him well whate'er I say, Yer will I not myself self love bewray, If he be wise he'll sue with good take heed: Bowdler, do so, and thou art sure to speed: I will fly hence to make his love the stronger, Though my affection must lie hid the longer. What master Bowdler, not a word to say? No by my troth, if you stay here all day. Why then i'll bear the bucklers hence away. What master Bowdler, have you let her pass unconquered?
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)
Peace Cripple, silence, name her not, I could not indure the carrire of her wit, for a million, shee is the onely shee Mercury vnder the heauens; her wit is all spirit; that spirit fire, that fire flies from her tongue, able to burne the radix of the best inuention; in this Element shee is the abstract and breefe of all the eloquence since the incarnation of Tullies I tell thee Cripple, I had rather incounter Hercules with blowes, than Mall Berry with words: And yet by this light I am horribly in loue with her. See where she comes, O excellent! Now haue I no more blood than a bull-rush. How now; what aile you sir? Whats the matter man? See, see, that glorious angell doth approach, What shall I doe? Shee is a saint indeed; Zounds to her, court her, win her, weare her, wed her, and bed her too. I would it were come to that, I win her! by heauen, I am not furnish'd of a courting phrase, to throw at a dogge. Why no, but at a woman you haue; O sir, seeme not so doultish now, can you make nofustian, aske her if sheele take a pipe of Tobacco. It wil offend her iudgement, pardon me. But heare you sir? reading so much as you haue done, Doe you not remember one pretty phrase, To scale the walles of a faire wenches loue? I neuer read any thing but Venus and Adonis. Why thats the very quintessence of loue, If you remember but a verse or two, Ile pawne my head, goods, lands and all twill doe. Why then haue at her. Fondling I say, since I haue hemd thee heere, Within the circle of this iuory pale, Ile be a parke. Hands off fond sir. And thou shalt be my deere; Feede thou on me, and I will feede on thee, And Loue shall feede vs both. Feede you on woodcockes, I can fast awhile. Vouchsafe thou wonder to alight thy steede. Take heede, shees not on horsebacke. Why then she is alighted, Come sit thee downe where neuer serpent hisses, And being set, ile smother thee with kisses. Why is your breath so hot? now God forbid I should buy kisses to be smotherd. Meane you me? you gull me not? No, no, poore Bowdler, thou dost gull thy selfe: Thus must I do to shadow the hid fire, That in my heart doth burne with hot desire: O I doe loue him well what ere I say, Yer will I not my selfe selfe loue bewray, If he be wise hee'l sue with good take heede: Bowdler, doe so, and thou art sure to speede: I will flie hence to make his loue the stronger, Though my affection must lie hid the longer. What maister Bowdler, not a word to say? No by my troth, if you stay heere all day. Why then ile beare the bucklers hence away. What maister Bowdler, haue you let her passe vnconquerd?