Beaumont, Francis / Fletcher, John · published 1615 · first performed or written 1608 [c.1607-1608] (Annals) tragedy · Children of the Queen's Revels unassigned nearest T21 Cupid, Venus and the nymphs · 497 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T21: cupid, venus, love, ceres, diana, fair, nymphs, goddess, bow, damon.
Louers reioyce, your paines shall be rewarded, The god of loue himselfe grieues at your crying; No more shall frozen honour be rewarded, Nor the coy faces of a maid denying. No more shall Virgins sigh, and say we dare not, For men are false, and what they doe they care not. All shall be well againe, then doe not greeue, Men shall be true, and women shall beleeue. Louers reioyce, what you shall say henceforth, When you haue caught your Sweet-hearts in your armes, It shall be accounted Oracle, and worth: No more faint-hearted Gyrles shall dreame of harmes, And cry they are too young: the god hath said, Fifteene shall make a Mother of a Mayd: Then wise men, pull your Roses yet vnblowne, Loue hates the too ripe fruite that falles alone. No more of this: here break your Rights for ever The Duke commands it so; Priest do not stare, I must deface your temple, though unwilling, And your god Cupid here must make a Scarecrow For any thing I know, or at the best, adorn a Chimney-piece. O Sacrilege unheard of! This will not help it, take down the Images And away with'em. Priest change your coat you had best, all service now Is given to men: prayers above their hearing Will prove but babblings; learn to lie, and thrive, 'twill prove your best profession: for the gods, He that lives by'em now, must be a beggar. There's better holiness on earth they say, Pray God it ask not greater sacrifice. Go home, And if your god be not deaf as well as blind, He will some smoke for it. Sir— Gentlemen there is no talking, This must be done, and speedily; I have Commission that I must not break. We are gone, to wonder what shall follow. On to the next Temple. Am I then scorned? is my all-doing will And power, that knows no limit, nor admits none, Now looked into by less than gods? and weakened Am I, whose Bow struck terror through the earth, No less than Thunder, and in this, exceeding Even gods themselves; whose knees before my Altars Now shook off; and contemned by such, whose lives Are but my recreation! anger rise, My sufferance and myself are made the subject Of sins against us. Go thou out displeasure, Displeasure of a great god, flying thyself Through all this Kingdom: so we whatever evils Proud flesh is taking of, amongst these Rebels; And on the first heart that despise my Greatness, Lay a strange misery, that all may know Cupid's revenge is mighty; with his arrow, Hotter than plagues or mine own anger, will I Now Nobly right myself: nor shall the prayers Nor sweet smokes on my Altars hold my hand, Till I have left this a most wretched Land, Cleophila, what was he that went hence? Means your Grace now? I mean that handsome man, That something more than man I met at door.
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)
Louers reioyce, your paines shall be rewarded, The god of loue himselfe grieues at your crying; No more shall frozen honour be rewarded, Nor the coy faces of a maid denying. No more shall Virgins sigh, and say we dare not, For men are false, and what they doe they care not. All shall be well againe, then doe not greeue, Men shall be true, and women shall beleeue. Louers reioyce, what you shall say henceforth, When you haue caught your Sweet-hearts in your armes, It shall be accounted Oracle, and worth: No more faint-hearted Gyrles shall dreame of harmes, And cry they are too young: the god hath said, Fifteene shall make a Mother of a Mayd: Then wise men, pull your Roses yet vnblowne, Loue hates the too ripe fruite that falles alone. No more of this: here breake your Rights for euer The Duke commands it so; Priest doe not stare, I must deface your temple, though vnwilling, And your god Cupid here must make a Scarcrow For any thing I know, or at the best, A dorne a Chimney-peece. O Sacriledge vnheard of! This will not helpe it, take downe the Images And away with'em. Priest change your coat you had best, all seruice now Is giuen to men: prayers aboue their hearing Will prooue but bablings; learne to lye, and thriue, Twill prooue your best profession: for the gods, He that liues by'em now, must be a begger. There's better holinesse on earth they say, Pray God it aske not greater sacrifice. Goe home, And if your god be not deafe as well as blinde, He will some smoake for it. Sir — Gentlemen there is no talking, This must be done, and speedily; I haue Commission that I must not breake. We are gone, to wonder what shall follow. On to the next Temple. Am I then scornd? is my all-doing will And power, that knowes no limit, nor admits none, Now look't into by lesse then gods? and weakned Am I, whose Bow strooke terror through the earth, No lesse then Thunder, and in this, exceeding Euen gods themselues; whose knees before my Altars Now shooke off; and contemd by such, whose liues Are but my recreation! anger rise, My sufferance and my selfe are made the subiect Of sinnes against vs. Goe thou out displeasure, Displeasure of a great god, flying thy selfe Through all this Kingdome: so we what euer euills Proud flesh is taking of, amongst these Rebels; And on the first heart that despise my Greatnesse, Lay a strange miscry, that all may know Cupids reuenge is mightie; with his arrow, Hotter then plagues or mine owne anger, will I Now Nobly right my selfe: nor shall the prayers Nor sweete smokes on my Altars hold my hand, Till I haue left this a most wretched Land, Cleophila, what was he that went hence? Meanes your Grace now? I meane that hansome man, That something more then man I met at dore.