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 0.74 · 508 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T22: shepherd, pan, shepherds, love, sheep, flocks, fair, shepherdess, swain, away.
Alas he doubly dies, That would believe, but cannot, 'tis not well, Ye keep me thus from dying here to dwell, With many worse companions: but oh death, I am not yet enamoured of his breath, So much, but I dare leave it, 'tis not pain, In forcing of a wound: nor after gain, Of many days, can hold me from my will, 'tis not myself, but Amoret. bids kill Stay, but a little little but on hour, And if I do not show thee through the power? Of herbs and words I have, as dark as Night? myself, turned to thy Amoret, in sight? Her very figure, and the rob she wears; With tawny Buskins, and thee hook she bears Of thine own Carving, where your names are set, Wrought underneath with many a Curious fret The Primrose Chaplet? tawdry-lace and Ring, Thou gavest her for her singing with each thing, Else that she wears about her let me feel; The first tell stroke of that Revenging steel? I am contented if there be a hope; To give it Entertainment for the scope; Of one poor hour; go you shall find me next? Under you shady Beech? even thus perplexed; And thus believing. Bind before I go; Thy soul by Pan unto me, not to do, Harm or outrageous wrong upon thy life, Till my Return. By Pan and by the strife; He had with Phoebus for the Mastery, When Golden Midas, judged their minstrelsy; I will not. Softly gliding as I go; With this Burden full of woe; Through still silence of the night? Guided by the glow-worms light. Hither am I come at last; Many a Thicket have I passed; Not at twig that durst deny me; Nor a bush that durst descry me. To the little Bird that sleeps: On the tender spray nor creeps, That hardly worm with pointed Tail; But if I be under sail; Flying faster than the wind; Leaving all the Clouds behind, But doth hide her tender head, In some hollow Tree or bed; Of seeded nettles not a Hare Can be started from his fare; By my footing nor a wish; Is more sudden, nor a fish? Can be found; with greater ease, Cut the vast unbounded seas; Leaving neither print nor sound. Then I when nimbly on the ground, I measure many a league an hour; But behold the happy bower, That must ease me of my charge, And by holy hand enlarge; The soul of this sad man that yet, Lies fast bound in deadly Heaven and great Pan, sucker it, Hail thou beauty of the Bower, Whither then the Paramour: Of my Master; let me crave, Thy virtuous help to keep from Grave, This poor Mortal that here lies, Waiting when thee destinies. Will undo his thread of life, view the wound by cruel knife, Trenched into him. What art thou? call'st me from my holy Rights And with the feared name of death a fright's My tender Ears, speak me thy name and will,
nodes 1550–1626 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 24 of 40 in this edition
Length
508 words · 677 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T22 — Shepherds, flocks and Pancross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.736 (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)
Allas hee doeble dyes, That would beleiue, but cannot, is not well, Ye keepe mee thus from dying here to dwell, With many worse companions: but oh death, I am not yet inamourd of his breath, So much, but I dare leaue it, tis not payne, In forcing of a wound: nor after gayne, Of many dayes, can hold mee from my will, Tis not my selfe, but Amoret. byds kille Stay, but a little little but on hower, And if I do not showe thee through the power? Of hearbes and words I haue, as darke as Night? My selfe, turn'd to thy Amoret, in sight? Her very figure, and the Robe shee weares; With tawny Buskins, and thee hooke she beares Of thyne owne Caruing, where your names are set, Wrought vnderneath with many a Curious frett The prim-Rose Chaplet? taudry-lace and Ring, Thou gauest her for her singing with each thing, Else that shee weares about her lett mee feele; The first tell stroke of that Reuenging steele? I am contented if ther bee a hope; To giue it Entertaynement for the scope; Of one poore hower; goe you shall find me next? Vnder you shady Beech? euen thus perplext; And thus beleiuing. Bynde before I goe; Thy soule by Pan vnto mee, not to doe, Harme or outragious wrong vppon thy life, Till my Returne. By Pan and by the strife; Hee had with Phoebus for the Masterye, When Goulden Mydas, iudg'd their Minstralcye; I will not. Softly glyding as I goe; With this Burden full of woe; Through still silence of the night? Guided by the glooe-wormes light. Hether am I come at last; Many a Thicket hane I past; Not at twigg that durst deny mee; Nor a bush tat durst descry mee. To the little Bird that sleepes: On the tender spray nor creeps, That hardly worme with poynted Tayle; But if I bee vnder sayle; Flying faster then the wind; Leauinge all the Clowdes behind, But doth hide her tender head, In some hollow Tree o bedd; Of eeded Nettells not a Hare Can be started from his fare; By my footing nor a wish; Is more sudden, nor a fish? Can bee found; with greater ease, Cut the vast vnbounded seaes; Leauing neither print nor ound. Then I when nimbly on the ground, I measure many a leage an howre; But behold the happy bower, That must ease me of my charge, And by holy hand enlardge; The oule of this sadd man that yet, Lyes fast bound in dead lysit, Heauen and great Pan, sucker it, Haye thou beauty of the Bower, Whither then the Paramore: Of my Maister; let me craue, Thy virteous helpe to keepe from Graue, This poore Mortall that here lyes, Wayting when thee destinyes. Will vndo his thread of life, Veiwe the wound by cruell knife, Trencht into him What art thou? call'st mee from my holy Rightes And with the feared name of death a frightes My tender Eares, speake me thy name and will,