Sharpham, Edward · published 1607 · first performed or written 1607 (Annals) comedy · Children of the King's Revels unassigned nearest T48 Addressing a lady: love, desire and inti · 501 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T48: lady, love, heart, fair, eyes, la, lord, tears, fie, face.
Why dost thou haunt me like a Ghost, thou female inner: thou hast not holy church in thy power with all hit commandments, to keep me from thy unhallowed presence: how durst thou break the Edict pronounced by the mouth of holy Church Man? art thou not Divorced? is not our separation blown into the people's ears, even by Jehovah's chosen Trumpeter? First, thou didst break thy vow to me, and madest of every Priapus a Trumpet; on which thou blowedst thine own infamy: therefore avoid, thou leauend lump of sinfulness, avoid. O my still beloved Husband, like filth or dirt, do not flay me like a Serpent, which comes to sting thy bosom; I come to kiss; Sweet let not suspect divorce me from thy presence, though from thy bed: For if you will trust this masked face, I know: No fountain purer than my Love would show. I fly, and hate thee like a serpent's hissing, which comes to sting me with pretence of kissing. O fainty tears, and feeble hands, for ever may you close, and never part till sharpest grief have cut the heartstrings of my life. Or else let this same brain of mine dissolve to tears, and drop itself even drop by drop, until it make a Sea of woes, that therein I may drown my wretched life. Alas poor Lady, I pity your calamity, and grieve to see you bruised by my masters injury, which makes your eyes like sponges drop these brinish tears, and spoils a Face, such as was never better one framed by the skilful hand of Nature. Avoid thou slave, how durst thou woe me? I am like a star to thee; my Orb's above thee. O! then my Love is a most clear and brightest star: look not with a malevolent Aspect upon me, but let your eyes bright raise up my life, and so extol my thoughts Perish may thyself and love together: Heavens grant again, I near may hear of either. What shall I do? Respect her most, that most of all loves you. O! do not turn away those Eyes, whose radiant beams first nursed my flame. Avoid thou unresistible Torturer, more fretting to my thoughts than cankers are to Metals. How often have I told thee of my hatred? For of this be thou sure and still remembered: deep hate (like love) can hardly be dissembled. ay, dost thou hate me then? O brightest Venus, Now or never make thy blind Son see; and wound his heart, whose hate hath wounded me. Oh here she is; pray God my Band sit well. Fair Lady, may I presume with the Bee to suck Honey from thy lips, for I dreamed the last night. Nay, I thought he would woo me dreaming like a Welshman. That I was transfigured, metamorphosed, or transformed into a flea in thy Bed. But did I not kill ye then? Me thought you did did, but first I dreamt I flung you.
seed 43: T2 · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Why doost thou haun me like a Ghost, thou femall inner: thou hast not holy church in thy power with all hit commaundements, to keepe mee from thy vnhallowed presence: how durst thou break the Edict pronounced by the mouth of holy Church Man? art thou not Diuorced? is not our separation blowne into the peoples eares, euen by Iehoahs chosen Trumpetter? First, thou didst breake thy vow to mee, and madest of euery Priapus a Trumpet; on which thou blowedst thine owne infamie: therefore auoide, thou leauend lumpe of sinfulnes, auoyd. O my still beloued Husband, like filth or durt, doe not flea me like a Serpent, which comes to sting thy bosome; I come to kisse; Sweet let not suspect diuorce me from thy presence, though from thy bedde: For if you will trust this masked face, I knowe: No fountaine purer than my Loue would show. I flie, and hate thee like a Serpents hissing, which comes to sting me with pretence of kissing. O faintie teares, and feebe handes, or euer may you close, and neuer part till sharpest griefe haue cut the heartstrings of my life. Or else let this same braine of mine dissolue to teaes, and droppe it selfe euen drop by drop, vntill it make a Sea of woes, that therein I may drowne my w ched life. Alas poore Ladie, I pittie your calamitie, and grieue to see you bruised by my Maisters iniurie, which makes your eyes like spunges drop these brinish teares, and spoyles a Face, such as was neuer better one framde by the skilfull hand of Nature. Auoyd thou slaue, how durst thou woe mee? I am like a starre to thee; my Ob's aboue thee. O! then my Loue is a most cleare and brightest starre: look not with a maleuolent Aspect vpon me, but let your eyes bright raise vp my life, and so extoll my thoughts Perish may thy selfe and loue together: Heauens graunt againe, I nere may heare of eyther. What shall I doe? Respect her most, that most of all loues you. O! doe not turne away those Eyes, whose radiant beames first nursd my flame. Auoyde thou vnresistable Torteror, more retting to my thoughts then Cankars are to Mettalls. How often haue I tolde thee of my hared? For of this bee thou sure and still remembred: deepe hate (like loue) can hardly be dissembled. I, doest thou hate me then? O brightest Venus, Now or neuer make thy blinde Sonne see; and his heart, whose hate hath wounded mee. Oh here shee is; pray God my Band sit well. Faire Lady, may I presume with the Bee to sucke Hony from thy lippes, for I dream'd the last night. Nay, I thought he would wooe me dreaming ike a Welshman. That I was transfigured, metamorphosd, or transform'd into a flea in thy Bed. But did I not kill yee then? Me thoght you did did, but first I dream't I flung you.