Philaster, or Love Lies a-Bleeding · chunk 24 of 40
Beaumont, Francis / Fletcher, John · published 1620 · first performed or written 1609 [May(?)] (Annals) tragicomedy · King's Men · Globe unassigned nearest T48 Addressing a lady: love, desire and inti · 507 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T48: lady, love, heart, fair, eyes, la, lord, tears, fie, face.
Now you may take that little right I have to this Poor Kingdom, give it to your joy, for I have no joy in it: Some far place, where never woman kind durst set her foot, For bursting with her poison must I seek, And live to curse you, and there dig a Cave, And preach to beasts and birds, what women are; How Heaven is in your eyes, but in your hearts more hell, Than hell has: How your tongues, like scorpions, Both heal and poison: How your thoughts woven, With thousand changes in one subtle web, and worn by you: How that foolish men that read the story of a woman's face, And dies believing it is lost for ever: How all the good you have, Is but a shadow, i'th' morning with you, and at night behind you, Past and forgotten: How your vows are frost fast, for a night, And with the next Sun gone; How you are, Being taken altogether. A mere confusion, and so dead a chaos, That love cannot distinguish these sad texts, Till my last hour I am bound to utter of you, So farewell all my woe, all my delight. Be merciful you gods, and strike me dead. What way have I deserved this? make my breast transparent, That the world jealous of me, May see the foulest thought my heart holds: Where shall women turn their eyes to find out constancy? Save me, how black and vile methinks, that boy looks now! Oh thou dissembler, that before thou spok'st, Wert in thy cradle false, sent to make lies, And to betray innocence, thy Lord and thou mayst glory in the ashes of a maid, fooled by her passion: But the conquest is nothing so great as wicked, Fly away, let my command force thee to that, Which shame would do without it, if thou understoodst. The loathed office thou hast undertaken, Why thou wouldst hide thee under heaps of hills, Lest we should dig and find thee. O what god angry with me, hath sent this strange disease Into the noblest minds, madam this grief you add unto me, Is no more than drops to seas, for which they are not seen to swell, My Lord has struck his anger through my heart, And let out all the hope of future joys, Ye need not bid me fly, I came to part, To take my latest leave, Farewell for ever. I durst not run away in honesty from such a Lady, Like a boy that stole, or made some greater fault, The power of gods assist you in your suffering: Hasty time reveal the truth to your abused Lord, and mine, That he may know your worth, whilst I go seek Out some forgotten place to die. Peace guide thee, thou hast overthrown me once, But if I had another time to lose, Thou, or another villain with thy looks, Might take me out of it, and send me naked, My hair dishevelled, through the fiery streets.
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)
Now you may take that little right I haue to this Poore Kingdome, giue it to your Ioy, for I haue no ioy in it: Some far place, where neuer woman kinde durst set her foote, For bursting with her poyson must I seeke, And liue to curse you, and there dig a Caue, And preach to beasts and birds, what women are; How Heauen is in your eies, but in your hearts more hell, Then hell has: How your tongues, like Scorpyons, Both heale and poyson: How your thoughts wouen, With thousand changes in one subtile web, and worne by you: How that foolish men that reade the story of a womans face, And dyes beleeuing it is lost for euer: How all the good you haue, Is but a shadow, i'th morning with you, and at night behind you, Past and forgotten: How your vowes are frost fast, for a night, And with the next Sunne gone; How you are, Being taken altogether. A meere confusion, and so dead a Chaios, That loue cannot distinguish these sad texts, Till my last houre I am bound to vtter of you, So farewell all my wo, all my delight. Be mercifull you gods, and strike me dead. What way haue I deserued this? make my breast transparant, That the world iealous of me, May see the foulest thought my heart holds: Where shall women turne their eies to finde out constancie? Saue me, how black and vile me thinkes, that boy lookes now! Oh thou dissembler, that before thou spokst, Wert in thy cradle false, sent to make lies, And to betray innocence, thy Lord and thou Maist glory in the ashes of a maid, foold by her passion: But the conquest is nothing so great as wicked, Flie away, let my command force thee to that, Which shame would doe without it, if thou vnderstoodst. The loathed office thou hast vndertooke, Why thou wouldst hide thee vnder heapes of hils, Lest we should dig and finde thee. O what god angry with me, hath sent this strange desease Into the noblest mindes, Madame this griefe you adde vnto me, Is no more then drops to seas, for which they are not seen to swell, My Lord has struck his anger through my heart, And let out all the hope of future ioyes, Ye neede not bid me flie, I came to part, To take my latest leaue, Farewell for euer. I durst not run away in honesty from such a Lady, Like a boy that stole, or made some greater fault, The power of gods assist you in your suffering: Hasty time reueale the truth to your abused Lord, and mine, That he may know your worth, whilst I goe seeke Out some forgotten place to die. Peace guide thee, thou hast ouerthrowne me once, But if I had another time to lose, Thou, or another villaine with thy lookes, Might take me out ofit, and send me naked, My haire desheueld, through the fiery streetes.