Fletcher, John · published 1610 · first performed or written 1608 [1608-1609] (Annals) pastoral; tragicomedy · Children of the Queen's Revels unassigned nearest T4 Love-longing and the lover's complaint · 499 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T4: love, heart, sweet, loves, fair, phillis, eyes, beauty, amyntas, lovers.
What means my love; To do as lovers should. That are to be enjoyed not to be wooed. there's near a shepherd esse in all the plain, Can kiss thee with more Art, there's none can feign. More wanton tricks, Forbear dear soul to try, Whether my heart be pure, I'll rather die, Then nourish one thought to dishonour thee, Still thinkst thou such a thing as Chastity, Is amongst women. Perigot there's none, That with her love is in a wood alone, And wood come home a Maid be not abused, With thy fond first belief, let time be used, Why dost thou rise, My true heart, thou hast slain, Faith Perigot, I'll pluck thee down again, Let go thou Serpent that into my breast, Hast with thy Cunning dived art, art not in jest; Sweet love lie down, Since this I live to see, Some bitter North wind blast my flocks and me You swore you loved yet will not do my will, O be as thou wert, once, I'll love thee still, I am, as still I was and all my kind, Though other shows we have poor men to blind, Then here I end all love, and lest my vain, belief should ever draw me in again, Before thy face that hast my youth mislead, I end my life my blood be on thy head, O hold thy hands thy Amoret doth cry, Thou counsel'st well, first Amoret shall die, That is the cause of my Eternal smart, O hold. This steel shall pierce thy lustful heart, up and down everywhere, I strew the herbs to purge the air. Let your Odour drive hence, All mists that dazzle sense, Herbs and springs whose hidden mights altars shapes, and mocks the sight. Thus I charge ye to undo; All before I brought ye to Let her fly let her scape, Give again her own shape: For bear thou gentle swain thou dost mistake; She whom thou followedst fled into the brake And as I crossed thy way I met thy wrath; The only fear of which near slain me hath, Pardon fair Shepherdess my rage and night, Were both upon me and beguiled my sight; But far be it from me to spill the blood. Of harmless maids that wander in the wood, Many a weary step in yonder path Poor hopeless Amoret twice trodden hath, To seek her Perigot, yet cannot hear, His voice, my Perigot, she loves thee dear: That calls. See yonder where she is how fair. she shows, and yet her breath infects the Air. My Perigot: Here. Happy. Hapless first: It lights, on thee, the next blow is the worst, Stay Perigot, my love, thou art unjust: Death is the best reward, that's due to lust; Now shall their love be crossed, for being struck; I'll throw her in the Fount least being took: By some Night Traveller, whose honest care, May help to cure her, shepherdess prepare, yourself to die,
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)
What meane my loue; To do as louers shud. That are to bee inioyed not to bee woed. Ther's ere a Sheapard esse in all the playne, Can kisse thee with more Art, ther's none can faine. More wanton trickes, Forbeare deare soule to tye, Whether my hart be pure, Ile rather dye, Then nourish one thought to dishonor thee, Still thinkst thou such a thinge as Chastitie, Is amongst woemen. Perigot thers none, That with her loue is in a wood alone, And wood come home a Mayde be not abusd, With thy ond first beleife, let time be vsd, Why dost thou rise, My true heart, thon hast slaine, Fayth Perigot, Ile plucke thee downe againe, Let goe thou Serpent that into my brest, Hast with thy Cunning diu'd art, art not iniest; Sweete loue lye downe, Since this I liue to see, Some bitter North wind blast my flocks and mee You swore you lou'd yet will not doe my will, O be as thou wert, once, Ile loue thee still, I am, as still I was and all my kind, Though other showes wee haue poore men to blynd, Then here I end all loue, and lest my vaine, Beleeie should euer draw me in againe, Before thy face that hast my youth mislead, I end my life my blood be on thy head, O hold thy hands thy Amoret doth cry, Thou cunsayl'st well, first Amoret shall dye, That is the cause of my Eternall smart, O hold. This steele shall peirse thy lustfull hart, vp and downe euery where, I strewe the hearbs to purge the Ayer Let your Odor driue hence, All mistes that dazell sence, Herbes and springs whose hydden migh Alters shapes, and mocks the sight. Thus I charge ye to vndo; All before I brought yee to Let her flye let her scape, Giue againe her owne shape: For beare thou gentle swayne thou dost mistake; Shee whom thou followedst fled into the brake And as I crost thy way I mett thy wrath; The only feare of which neere slayne me hath, Pardon fayre Sheapardese my rage and night, Were both vppon me and beguild my sight; But farr be it from mee to spill the blood. Of harmelesse maydes that wander in the wood, Many a weary stepp in yonder path Poore hoplesse Amoret twice troden hath, To seeke her Perigot, yet cannot heare, His voyce, my erigot, shee loues thee deare: That calles. See yonder where shee is how faire. Shee showes, and yet her breath infects the Ayer. My Perigot: Here. Happye. Haplesse first: It lights, on thee, the next blowe is the worst, Stay Perigot, my loue, tho art vniust: Death is the best reward, thats due to lust; Now shall their loue be crost, for being strucke; Ile throwe her in the Fount least being tooke: By some Night Trauayler, whose honest care, May help to cure her, Sherpardesse prepare, Your selfe to dye,