Fletcher, John · published 1610 · first performed or written 1608 [1608-1609] (Annals) pastoral; tragicomedy · Children of the Queen's Revels T22 Shepherds, flocks and Pan typicality 0.80 · 465 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T22: shepherd, pan, shepherds, love, sheep, flocks, fair, shepherdess, swain, away.
This is the Cabin where the best of all Her sex, that ever breathed, or ever shall Give heat or happiness to the shepherds side, Doth only to her worthy self abide. Thou blessed star, I thank thee for thy light, Thou by whose power the darkness of sad night Is banished from the earth, in whose dull place Thy chaster beams play on the heavy face Of all the world: making the blue sea smile, To see how cunningly thou dost beguile Thy brother of his brightness, giving day Again from Chaos whiter than that way That leads to Ioues high Court, and chaster far Than chastity itself: yond blessed star That nightly shines, thou all the constancy That in all women was, or ere shallbe: From whose fair eyeballs flies that holy fire, That ports style the mother of desire, Infusing into every gentle breast, A soul of greater price, and far more blessed Than that quick power which gives a difference Twixt man and creatures of a lower sense. Shepheard how camest thou hither to this place? No way is trodden, all the verdant grass The spring shot up stands yet unbruised here Of any foot, only the dappled deer: Far from the feared sound of crooked horn Dwells in this fastness. Chaster than the morn, I have not wandered, or by strong illusion Into this virtuous place have made intrusion, But hither am I come (believe me fair) To seek you out, of whose great good the Air Is full, and strongly labours, whilst the sound, Breaks against heaven, and drives into a stround The amazed Shepherd, that such virtue can Be resident in lesser than a man. If any art I have, or hidden skill, May cure thee of disease or festered ill, Whose grief or greenness to another's eye, May seem unpossible of remedy, I dare yet undertake it. 'tis no pain I suffer through disease, no beating vain Conveys infection dangerous to the heart, No part impostumed to be cured by Art: This body holds, and yet a feller grief Than ever skilful hand did give relief Dwells on my soul, and may be healed by you, Fair beauteous virgin: Then shepherd let me sue To know thy grief that man yet never knew The way to health, that durst not show his sore. Then fairest know I love you, swain no more. Thou hast abused the strictness of this place, And offered sacrilegious foul disgrace To the sweet rest of these interred bones, For fear of whose ascending fly at once, Thou and thy idle passions, that the sight Of death and speedy vengeance may not fright. Thy very soul with horror. Let me not Thou all perfection merit such a blot, For my true zealous faith.
nodes 668–732 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 11 of 40 in this edition
Length
465 words · 595 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T22 — Shepherds, flocks and Pancross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.804 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
seed 43: T24 · seed 44: T25 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
This is the Cabin where the best of all Her sex, that euer breathd, or euer shall Giue heat or happinesse to the Shepheards side, Doth onely to her worthy selfe abide. Thou blessed starre, I thank thee for thy light, Thou by whose power the darkenesse of sad night Is banisht from the earth, in whose dull place Thy chaster beames play on the heauy face Of all the world: making the blew sea smile, To see how cunningly thou dost beguile Thy brother of his brightnesse, giuing day Againe from Chaos whiter then that way That leades to Ioues hye Court, and chaster farre Then chastity it selfe: yo blessed starre That nightly shines, thou all the constancy That in all women was, or ere shalbe: From whose faire eye-balles flies that holyfire, That ports stile the mother of desire, Infusing into euery gentle breast, A soule of greater price, and farre more blest Then that quicke power which giues a difference Twixt man and creatures of a lower sence. Shepheard how camst thou hether to this place? No way is troden, all the verdent grasse The spring shot vp stands yet vnbrused heere Of any foote, onely the dappld deere: Farre from the feared sound of crooked horne Dwels in this fastnesse. Chaster then the morne, I haue not wandred, or by strong illusion Into this vertuous place haue made intrusion, But hether am I come (belieue me faire) To seeke you out, of whose great good the Aire Is full, and strongly labors, whilst the sound, Breakes against heauen, and driues into a stround The amazed Shepheard, that such vertue can Be resident in lesser then a man. If any art I haue, or hidden skill, May cure thee of disease or festred ill, Whose griefe or greenenesse to anothers eie, May seeme vnpossible of remedie, I dare yet vndertake it. Tis no paine I suffer through disease, no beating vaine Conuaies infection dangerous to the heart, No part impostumde to be curde by Art: This bodie holdes, and yet a feller griefe Then euer skilfull hand did giue reliefe Dwels on my soule, and may be heald by you, Faire beauteous virgin: Then shepheard let me sue To knowe thy griefe that man yet neuer knew The way to health, that durst not shew his sore. Then fairest know I loue you, Swaine no more. Thou hast abus'd the strictnes of this place, And offred Sacriligeous foule disgrace To the sweet rest of these interred bones, For feare of whose ascending fly at once, Thou and thy idle passions, that the sight Of death and speedy vengeance may not fright. Thy very soule with horror. Let me not Thou all perfection merrit such a blot, For my true zealous faith.