Daniel, Samuel · published 1615 · first performed or written 1614 [Feb 2] (Annals) pastoral; tragicomedy · before the Court unassigned nearest T1 Death, grief and revenge · 513 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
And when he heard me coming, for his ears Were quicker watches than his eyes, it seemed; He suddenly looks up, stays suddenly, And with a brow that told how much the sight Of any interrupter troubled him, Beheld me, without speaking any word, As if expecting what I had to say. I finding him in this confused dismay, (Who heretofore had seen him otherwise: I must confess, (for tell you all I must,) A trembling passion overwhelmed my breast, So that I likewise stood confused and dumb, And only looked on him, as he on me. In this strange posture like two statues we Remained a while; but with this difference set: He blushed, and I looked pale; my face did show joy to see him, his trouble to be seen. At length bethinking me for what I came, What part I had to act, I roused my spirits, And set myself to speak; although I wished He would have first begun; and yet before A word would issue, twice I bowed my knee, Twice kissed my hand; my action so much was More ready than my tongue: at last I told Whose messenger I was, and how I came To intimate the sad distressed case Of an afflicted nymph, whose only help Remained in him: he when he heard the name of Cloris, turns away his head, and shrinks, As if he grieved that you should grieve for him. No, no, it troubled him to hear my name, Which he despises, is he so perverse And way ward still? ah then I see no hope. Clarindo, would to God thou hadst not gone, I could be, but as now, I am undone. Have patience Mistress, & but hear the rest. When I perceived his suffering, with the touch And sudden stop it gaue him, presently I laid on all the weights that motion might Procure, and him besought, adjured, invoked, By all the rights of Nature, piety, And manliness, to hear my message out. Told him how much the matter did import Your safety and his fame. How he was bound In all humanity to right the same. That was well done my boy, what said he then? He turns about, and fixed his eyes on me, Content to give his ears a quiet leave, To hear me. when I failed not to relate All what I had in charge, and all he hears, And looks directly on me all the while. I doubt he noted thee more than thy words, But now Clarindo, what was his reply? Thus. Tell fair Cloris, my good boy, how that I am not so disnatured a man, Or so ill borne, to disesteem her love, Or not to grieve, (as I protest I do) That she should so afflict herself for me. But. Ah now comes that bitter word of But Which makes all nothing, that was said before. That smooths & wounds, that strokes and dashes more Than flat denials, or a plain disgrace. But tell me yet what followed on that But?
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)
And when he heard me comming, for his eares VVere quicker watches then his eyes, it seem'd; He suddenly lookes vp, staies suddenly, And with a brow that told how much the sight Of any interrupter troubled him, Beheld me, without speaking any word, As if expecting what I had to say. I finding him in this confus'd dismay, (VVho heretofore had seene him otherwise: I must confesse, (for tell you all I must,) A trembling passion ouerwhelmd my breast, So that I likewise stood confus'd and dumbe, And onely lookt on him, as he on me. In this strange posture like two statues we Remaind a while; but with this difference set: He blusht, and I look'd pale; my face did shew Ioy to see him, his trouble to be seene. At length bethinking me for what I came, VVhat part I had to act, I rowzd my spirits, And set my selfe to speake; although I wisht He would haue first begun; and yet before A word would issue, twice I bowd my knee, Twice kist my hand; my action so much was More ready then my tongue: at last I told VVhose messenger I was, and how I came To intimate the sadde distressed case Of an afflicted nymph, whose onely helpe Remaind in him: he when he heard the name of Cloris, turnes away his head, and shrinkes, As if he grieued that you should grieue for him. No, no, it troubled him to heare my name, Which he despises, is he so pervers And way ward still? ah then I see no hope. Clarindo, would to God thou hadst not gone, I could be, but as now, I am vndone. Haue patience Mistres, & but heare the rest. When I perceiu'd his suffring, with the touch And sodaine stop it gauc him, presently I layd on all the waights that motion might Procure, and him besought, adiur'd, invok'd, By all the rights of Nature, pietie, And manlines, to heare my message out. Told him how much the matter did import Your safetie and his fame. How hee was bound In all humanity to right the same. That was well done my boy, what said he then? Hee turnes about, and fixt his eyes on mee, Content to giue his eares a quiet leaue, To heare me. when I faild not to relate All what I had in charge, and all he heares, And lookes directly on me all the while. I doubt he noted thee more then thy words, But now Clarindo, what was his reply? Thus. Tel faire Cloris, my good boy, how that I am not so disnatured a man, Or so ill borne, to disesteeme her loue, Or not to grieue, (as I protest I doe) That shee should so afflict her selfe for mee. But. Ah now comes that bitter word of But Which makes all nothing, that was said before. That smoothes & wounds, that stroakes and dashes more Then flat denyals, or a plaine disgrace. But tell me yet what followed on that But?