Beaumont, Francis / Fletcher, John · published 1615 · first performed or written 1608 [c.1607-1608] (Annals) tragedy · Children of the Queen's Revels unassigned nearest T4 Love-longing and the lover's complaint · 507 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T4: love, heart, sweet, loves, fair, phillis, eyes, beauty, amyntas, lovers.
You fleering harlot, I'll have a horse to leap thee, and thy base issue shall carry Sumpters. Come Lords, bring her along, we'll to the Prince all, where her hell-hood shall wait his censure; and if he spare thee she Goat, may he lie with thee again; and beside, mayst thou upon him some nasty foul disease that hate still follows, and his end, a dry ditch. Lead you corrupted whore, or I'll draw good shall make you skip: away to the Prince. Ha, ha, ha, I hope yet I shall come too late to find him. Alas poor boy, why dost thou follow me? What canst thou hope for? I am poor as thou art. In good faith I shall be well and rich enough If you will love me, and not put me from you. Why dost thou choose out me boy to undo thee? Alas, for pity take another Master, That may be able to deserve thy love In breeding thee hereafter: me thou know'st not More than my misery: and therefore canst not Look for rewards at my hands: would I were able, My pretty knave, to do thee any kindness: truly Good boy, I would upon my faith thy harmless innocence moves me at heart, wilt thou go Save thyself, why dost thou weep? Alas I do not chide thee. I cannot tell if I go from you, Sir I shall near dawn day more: Pray if you can I will be true To you: Let me wait on you: If I were a man, I would fight for you: Sure you have some ill-willers, I would slay 'em. Such harmless souls are ever Prophets, well I take thy wish, thou shalt be with me still: But prithee eat, than my good Boy: Thou wilt die my child If thou fasts one day more. This four days thou hast tasted nothing: Go into the Cave and eat: Thou shalt find something for thee, to bring thy blood again, and thy fair colour. I can not eat God thank you, But I'll eat tomorrow. though't be dead by that time. I should be well then, for you will not love me. Indeed I will. This is the prettiest passion that ere I felt yet: why dost you look so earnestly upon me? You have fair eyes Master. Sure the Boy dotes: why dost thou sigh my child? To think that such a fine man should live, and no gay Lady love him. Thou wilt love me? Yes sure till I die, and when I am in heaven I'll e'en wish for you. And I'll come to thee Boy. This is a love I never yet heard tell of: come, thou art sleepy child, go in; and I'll sit with thee: heaven what portends this? You are sad, but I am not sleepy, would I could do aught to make you merry: shall I sing? If thou wilt good Boy. Alas my boy, that thou shouldst comfort me, and art far worse than I:
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)
You fleering harlot, Ile haue a horse to leape thee, and thy base issue shall carry Sumpters. Come Lords, bring her along, weele to the Prince all, where her hell-hood shall waite his censure; and if he spare thee she Goat, may he lye with thee againe; and beside, mayst thou vpon him some nastle soule disease that hate still followes, and his end, a dry ditch. Leade you corrupted whore, or Ile draw gode shall make you skippe: away to the Prince. Ha, ha, ha, I hope yet I shall come too late to finde him. Alas poore boy, why dost thou follow me? What canst thou hope for? I am poore as thou art. In good feth I shall be weell and rich enough If you will loue me, and not put me from you. Why dost thou choose out me boy to vndo thee? Alas, for pitty take another Master, That may be able to deserue thy loue In breeding thee hereafter: me thou knowst not More then my misery: and therefore canst not Looke for rewards at my hands: would I were able, My pretty knaue, to doe thee any kindnes: truely Good boy, I would vpon my faith thy harmelesle Innocense mooues me at heart, wilt thou goe Saue thy selfe, why doest thou weepe? Alas I doe not chide thee. I cannot tell if I goe from you, Syr I shall nere dawne day more: Pray if you can I will bee true To you: Let mee waite on you: If I were a man, I would fight for you: Sure you haue some ill-willers, I would slay vm. Such harmelesse soules are euer Prophets, well I take thy wish, thou shalt be with mee still: But prithee eate, then my good Boy: Thou wilt die my childe If thou fasts one day more. This foure dayes thou hast tasted nothing: Goe into the Caue and eate: Thou shalt finde something for thee, to bring thy bloud agen, and thy faire collour. I can not eate God thanke you, But Ile eate to morrow. Thow't bee dead by that time. I should be well then, for you will not loue me. Indeed I will. This is the prettiest passion that ere I felt yet: why dost you looke so earnestly vpon me? You haue fayre eyes Master. Sure the Boy dotes: why dost thou sigh my childe? To thinke that such a fine man should liue, and no gay Lady loue him. Thou wilt loue me? Yes sure till I dye, and when I am in heauen Ile eene wish for you. And Ile come to thee Boy. This is a loue I neuer yet heard tell of: come, thou art sleepy childe, goe in; and Ile sit with thee: heauen what portends this? You are sad, but I am not sleepy, woulde I could doe ought to make you merry: shall I sing? If thou wilt good Boy. Alas my boy, that thou shouldst comfort me, and art farre worse then I: