Daniel, Samuel · published 1615 · first performed or written 1614 [Feb 2] (Annals) pastoral; tragicomedy · before the Court unassigned nearest T22 Shepherds, flocks and Pan · 522 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T22: shepherd, pan, shepherds, love, sheep, flocks, fair, shepherdess, swain, away.
Oh could I now but put off this disguise, With those respects that fetter my des: How closely could I neighbour that sweet side? But stay, he stirs; I fear my heart hath brought My feet too near, and I have wakened him. It will not be, sleep is no friend of mine, Or such a friend, as leaves a man, when most He needs him. See a new assault: who now? Ah 'tis the boy that was with me erewhiles, That gentle boy; I am content to speak With him, he speaks so prettily, so sweet, And with so good respective modesty: And much resembles one I knew once well: Come hither gentle boy, what hast thou there? A token sent you from the nymph I serve. Keep it my boy, and wear it on thy head. The gods forbid, that I, a servant, should Wear on my head, that which my mistress hath Prepared for yours: Sir, I beseech you urge No more a thing so ill becoming me. Nay sure I think, it better will become Thy head than mine; and therefore boy, thou must Needs put it on. I trust you loneness hath not so Vnciuil'd you, to force a messenger To do against good manners, and his will. No, good my boy, but I entreat thee now Let me but put it on, hold still thy head, It shall not be thy act, but only mine: Let it alone good boy, for if thou sawst How well it did become thee, sure thou wouldst. Now, canst thou sing my boy some gentle song? I cannot sing, but I could weep. Weep, why? Because I am not as I wish to be. Why so are none; be not displeased for this; And if you cannot sing, tell me some tale To pass the time. That can I do, did I but know what kind Of tale you liked. No merry tale my boy, nor yet too sad, But mixed, like the tragic Comedies. Then such a tale I have, and a true tale, Believe me Sir, although not written yet In any book, but sure it will, I know Some gentle shepherd, moved with passion, must Record it to the world, and well it will Become the world to understand the same. And this it is: There was sometimes a nymph, Isulia named, and an Arcadian borne; Fair can I not avouch she was, but chaste, And honest sure, as the event will prove; Whose mother dying, left her very young Unto her father's charge, who carefully Did breed her up, until she came to years Of womanhood, and then provides a match Both rich, and young, and fit enough for her. But she, who to another shepherd had Called Sirthis, vowed her love, as unto one Her heart esteemed more worthy of her love, Could not by all her father's means be wrought To leave her choice; and to forego her vow. No more could my dear Silvia be from me. Which caused much affliction to the both, And so the self same cause did unto us.
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)
Oh could I now but put off this disguise, VVith those respects that fetter my des: How closely could I neighbour that sweet side? But stay, he stirres; I feare my heart hath brought My feete too neere, and I haue wakened him. It will not be, sleepe is no friend of mine, Or such a friend, as leaues a man, when most He needes him. See a new assault: who now? Ah tis the boy that was with me erewhiles, That gentle boy; I am content to speake With him, he speakes so pretily, so sweet, And with so good respectiue modesty: And much resembles one I knew once well: Come hither gentle boy, what hast thou there? A token sent you from the nymph I serue. Keepe it my boy, and weare it on thy head. The gods forbid, rhat I, a seruant, should Weare on my head, that which my mistresse hath Prepar'd for yours: Sir, I beseech you vrge No more a thing so ill becomming me. Nay sure I thinke, it better will become Thy head then mine; and therefore boy, thou must Needes put it on. I trust you loenesse hath not so Vnciuil'd you, to force a messenger To doe against good manners, and his will. No, good my boy, but I intreate thee now Let me but put it on, hold still thy head, It shall not be thy act, but onely mine: Let it alone good boy, for if thou saw'st How well it did become thee, sure thou wouldst. Now, canst thou sing my boy some gentle song? I cannot sing, but I could weepe. VVeepe, why? Because I am not as I wish to be. VVhy so are none; be not dipleas'd for this; And if you cannot sing, tell me some tale To passe the time. That can I doe, did I but know what kinde Of tale you lik'd. No merry tale my boy, nor yet too sad, But mixed, like the tragicke Comedies. Then such a tale I haue, and a true tale, Beleeue me Sir, although not written yet In any booke, but sure it will, I know Some gentle shepheard, moou'd with passion, must Record it to the world, and well it will Become the world to vnderstand the same. And this it is: There was sometimes a nymph, Isulia nam'd, and an Arcadian borne; Faire can I not avouch shee was, but chaste, And honest sure, as the euent will prooue; VVhose mother dying, left her very young Vnto her fathers charge, who carefully Did breed her vp, vntill shee came to yeares Of womanhood, and then prouides a match Both rich, and young, and fit ynough for her. But shee, who to another shepheard had Call'd Sirthis, vow'd her loue, as vnto one Her heart esteem'd more worthy of her loue, Could not by all her fathers meanes be wrought To leaue her choice; and to forgoe her vow. No more could my deere Siluia be from me. Which caused much affliction to the both, And so the selfe same cause did vnto vs.