Armin, Robert · published 1609 · first performed or written 1606 [c.1606-1608] (Annals) comedy · Children of the King's Revels T21 Cupid, Venus and the nymphs typicality 0.79 · 464 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T21: cupid, venus, love, ceres, diana, fair, nymphs, goddess, bow, damon.
Go, give copies of good countenance to our friends, think an is well, for so it is, I that am all in grief, am all in suffering, I forgive the reason, Fare ye well. What I will do, is barred up in this closer, The key that opens it, is my revenge. Turned by a hand whose palm does itch with fire Till all consume, a cuckold, cuckold William sir is Its even so, would I were yet the last or least, But not by thousands go too then, am I all alone, in this Who is't that tongue calls man That is assured of his wives conditions? None, or if any, there the Phoenix lives Unfellowed, be his fate renowned while mine Is mockery, and a jestive stock, to all that knows me. O you stars blaze fire, till this abuse be quenched By my desire. Hark ye Morris. I Sir. Where is Tailer? dudge me, will knog his pad, What is chirken with cold button done, say you. Excellent, this is Welsh indeed, O my honest Tutch. Sauce box, roly-poly, am I not your master? You are sir, pray ye pardon me. You must have your left eye diameter wise, Fixed on my right heel, and all the offices, A servant owes in duty to his Master, perform As naturally as if the forty shilling time Were come, left I leave talking Welsh, and crack your pate in English. I shall obey sir. Fairest of beauties, love her seemly self, For thy two eyes are Cupid's, which do shoot From thy enamoured bow, shafts all of gold, Headed with metal of immortal propose. In thy fair bosom lives two hearts relenting, Thine penetrable, through atoning pity, Mine longing by desire to scale the fort Of loves fair presence, make me happy, Sign to my suit, but ye, for 'tis thy censure Makes me thus bold, pronounce fair judgement, Either of life or death, I that plead love, Doubly devoted, challenge from thy deity A maiden answer, let it come bright fire, To try the substance of my loves resolve. Sir, in sooth and verity believe me, That I am fair 'tis credible, but to shoot Arrows, whose heads have such immortal proof, 'tis most erroneous and false, 'sfoot your a Puritan, A citizen I'm sure, her canvas curran bags, Stuffed with sweet cinnamon and cloves, Good sir you are deceived in me, I'm country plain Without this nicety, and do you love me, yes? Then crave an answer without ceremony, Fetched from proud Ovid in his Arte amandi. I do not like it I. Bless you Latie. Sir and you, tell me of Cupid's eyes, shot from enamoured bows with hearts relenting, doubly devoted, and I know not what. Bless you virgin.
nodes 1124–1179 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 21 of 33 in this edition
Length
464 words · 621 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T21 — Cupid, Venus and the nymphscross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.793 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
seed 43: T21 · seed 44: T24 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Goe, giue coppies of good countenance to our friends, thinke an is well, for so it is, I that am all in griefe, am all in suffering, I forgiue the reason, Fare ye well. What I will do, is bad vp in this closer, The key that opens it, is my reuenge. Turn'd by a hand whose palme dus itch with fire Til al consume, a cuckold, cuckold William sr is Its euen so, would I were yet the ast or least, But not by thousands go too then, am I all alone, in this Who is't that tongue calles man That is assured of his wiues conditions▪ None, or if any, there the Phoenix liues Vnfellow'd, be his fate renown'd while mine Is mockery, and a Iestiue stock, to all that knowes me. O you starres blaze fire, till this abuse be quenthd By my desire. Harke ye Morris. I Sir. Where is Tailer? dudge me, will knog his pad, What is chirken with cold button done, say you. Excellent, this is welch indeede, O my honest Tutch. Sause box, rowly powly, am I not your master? You are sir, pray ye pardon me. You must haue your left eie Diamiter wise, Fixt on my right heele, and all the offices, A seruant owes in dutie to his Master, performe As naturally as if the fortie shilling time Were come, left I leaue talking welch, and crack your pate in English. I shall obey sir. Fairest of beauties, loue her seemely selfe, For thy two eies are Cupids, which doe shoote From thy inamor'd bow, shafts all of gold, Headed with mettall of immortall proose. In thy faire bosome liues two hearts relenting, Thine penetrable, through attoning pittie, Mine longing by desire to scale the fort Of loues faire presence, make me happie, Signe to my sute, but ye, for tis thy censure Makes me thus bold, pronounce faire judgement, Either of life or death, I that plead loue, Doubly deuoted, challenge from thy dietie A maiden answere, let it come bright fire, To trie the substance of my loues resolue. Sir, in sooth and veritie beleeue me, That I am faire tis credible, but to shoote Arrowes, whose heads haue such immortal proofe, Tis most erroneous and false, sfoot your a puritane, A cittizen Ime sure, her canuas curran bags, Stuft with sweete sinnomon and cloues, Good sir you are deceau'd in me, e country plain Without this nicetie, and do you loue me, yes? Then craue an answere without ceremonie, Fetcht from proud Ouid in his Arte amandi. I doe not like it I. Ples you Latie. Sir and you, tell me of Cupids eies, shot from inamord bowes with hearts relenting, doubly deuoted, and I know not what. Ples you firgen.