Day, John · published 1608 · first performed or written 1608 [1607-1608] (Annals) comedy · Children of the King's Revels T4 Love-longing and the lover's complaint typicality 0.78 · 486 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T4: love, heart, sweet, loves, fair, phillis, eyes, beauty, amyntas, lovers.
Fie, fie, how heavy is light love in me? How slow runs swift desire? This leaden air, This ponderous feather, merry Melancholy. This passion, which, but in passion Hath not his perfect shape. And shapeless love Hath in his watch of love o'erslept himself. Then sleepy wakers, let these grave let's wander And wait th'ascension of beauty's wonder: But stay, a man striving twixt life and death. Nay then 'tis so, my heavenly love's gone by, And struck him dead with her love-darting eye. If speech-bereaving love will let thee speak, Then speechless man, speak with the tongue of love, And tell me, if thou sawst not Cynthia Seeking Endymion in these flowery dales. Dales for Endymion and fair Cynthia fit, But never heavenly goddess blessed this grove, These woods are consecrate to grief, not love. Out Atheist, thou profan'st loves deity, For, false-reporter, I in them have seen A love that makes a Negro of loves Queen: One that whenas the sun keeps holiday, Her beauty clads him in his best array, Now truly shepherd none such sojourn here Please you survey the Cell, go in and see, I'm hearst, and none but sorrow lies with me. Call you this sorrows cave? Rather a Cell, Where pleasure grows, and none but Angels dwell. To what compare shall I compare thee to? Uncomparable beauty's Paragon. I will compare her beauty to the sun, For her bright lustre gives the morning light. Jle say she is like Cynthia when day's done, Or Lady to the mistress of the night. O speak but to me, and I shall be blessed. One smile would lay my jarring thoughts at rest. How now fair sister? you are hard beset. Nymph. Goddess. Saint, once more, you're both well met. O she is fair. She fairer. Both more fair Than rocks of pearl, or the chaste evening air. Say sweet, intend you not to fish today? No, shepherds, now fish do not bite but play. What time, sweet love, keep fishes when they bite? Early i'th' morning, or else late at night. Come, will you talk with me till time of fishing? My father, sir, will chide if I be missing. The match is made, theyare even upon going. What should we do? Why as poor parents and dutiful servants should do, run amongst the bushes and catch flies. Stay forward daughters whether are ye going. Father, I think these shepherds come a-wooing. A wooing daughters? near imagine so: What man's so mad to marry grief and woe? Why where lives sad grief? here's all speaking joy. O I would live and die with such annoy. But they are poor, and poverty is despised: No, they are fair, beauty is highly prized. 'twill be a match, they are beating the price already. They once were fair, sorrow from that hath changed them They once knew wealth, but chance hath much estranged them,
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)
Fie, fie, how heauy is light loue in me? How ſlow runs ſwift deſire? This leaden ayre, This pondrous feather, merry Melancholy. This paſſion, which, but in paſſion Hath not his perfect ſhape. And ſhapeleſſe loue Hath in his watch of loue oreſlept himſelfe. Then ſleepy wakers, let theſe graue lets wander And waite th'aſcenſion of beauties wonder: But ſtay, a man ſtriuing twixt life and death. Nay then tis ſo, my heauenly loue's gone by, And ſtruck him dead with her loue-darting eye. If ſpeech-bereauing loue will let thee ſpeake, Then ſpeechles man, ſpeake with the tongue of loue, And tell me, if thou ſaw'ſt not Cynthia Seeking Endimion in theſe flowry dales. Dales for Endimion and faire Cynthia fit, But neuer heauenly goddeſſe bleſt this groue, Theſe woods are conſecrate to griefe, not loue. Out Atheiſt, thou prophan▪ſt loues deity, For, falſe-reporter, I in them haue ſeene A loue that makes a Negro of Loues Queene: One that when as the ſunne keeps holliday, Hir beauty clads him in his beſt array, Now truly ſhepheard none ſuch ſoiourn here Pleaſe you ſuruey the Cell, go in and ſee, I'me hearſt, and none but ſorrowe lies with me. Call you this ſorrowes caue? Rather a Cell, Where pleaſure growes, and none but Angels dwell. To what compare ſhall I compare thee to? Vncomparable beauties Paragon. I will compare her beauty to the ſunne, For her bright luſtre giues the morning light. Jle ſay ſhe is like Cynthia when day's done, Or Lady to the miſtriſſe of the night. O ſpeake but to me, and J ſhall be bleſt. One ſmile would lay my iarring thoughts at reſt. How now faire ſiſter? you are hard beſet. Nymph. Goddeſſe. Saynt, once more, y'are both well met. O ſhe is faire. She fairer. Both more faire Then rocks of pearle, or the chaſt euening ayre. Say ſweet, intend you not to fiſh to day? No, ſhepheards, now fiſh do not bite but play. VVhat time, ſweet loue, keepe fiſhes when they bite? Early ith' morning, or els late at night. Come, will you talke with me till time of fiſhing? My father, ſir, will chide if I be miſſing. The match is made, th'are euen vpon going. VVhat ſhould we do? Why as poore parents and dutifull ſeruants ſhould doe, run amongſt the buſhes and catch flies. Stay forward daughters whether are yee going▪ Father, I thinke theſe ſhepheards come a wooing. A wooing daughters? nere imagine ſo: What man's ſo mad to marry griefe and woe? Why where liues ſad griefe? heer's all ſpeaking ioy. O I would liue and die with ſuch annoy. But they are poore, and pouerty is deſpiſde: No, they are faire, beauty is highly prizde. Twill be a match, they are beating the price already. They once were faire, ſorrow from that hath changd them They once knew wealth, but chance hath much eſtrangd them,