Philaster, or Love Lies a-Bleeding · chunk 26 of 40
Beaumont, Francis / Fletcher, John · published 1620 · first performed or written 1609 [May(?)] (Annals) tragicomedy · King's Men · Globe unassigned nearest T14 Royal love, favour and dynastic relation · 477 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T14: prince, princess, love, king, lord, queen, madam, grace, lady, life.
To horse, to horse, we lose the morning Gentlemen. What, have you lodged the deer below? Yes, they are ready for the bow. Who shoots? The Princess. No, she'll hunt. she'll take a stand I say. Who else? Why the young strange Prince. He shall shoot in a stone bow for me, I never loved his beyondsea-ship, since he forsook the Say, for paying ten shillings: he was there at the fall of a deer, and would needs out of his Mightiness, give ten groats for the docets; marry his steward would have the villuet head into the bargain, to turf his hat withal, I think he should love venery: he and old Sir Tristram: for if ye be remembered, he forsook a Stag once, to strike a rascal milking in a meadow, and her he killed i'the eye. Who shoots else? The Lady Galatea. That's a good wench, an she would not chide us for tumbling of her women in the brakes, she's liberal, and by the gods, they say honest, and whether that be a fault or no, I have nothing to do, there's all. No, one more, Megra. That's a firker I'faith boy, there's a wench will ride her haunches as hard after a kennel of hounds as a hunting saddle, & when she comes home, get 'em clapped, and all is well again, I have known her lose herself three times in one afternoon, if the Woods had been answerable, and has been work enough for one man to find her, and has sweat for't: she rides well, and she pays well, hark else. Oh that I had been nourished in the woods, With milk of goats, and acorns, and not known The right of Crowns, nor the dissembling trains Of cruel love: but digged myself a Cave, Where I, my fire, my Cattle and my bed, Might have been shut together in one shed, And then had taken me some mountain girl, Beaten with winds, chaste as the rock whereon she dwelled, That might have strewed my bed with leaves and reeds, And with the skins of beasts our neighbours, and have borne Out her big breasts, my large course issue: This had been a life free from vexation. Oh! wicked men, an innocent may walk safe amongst beasts, Nothing assaults me here, I see my grieved Lord, sits as His soul were searching out a way to leave his body. Pardon me that broke thy last commandment, for I must speak: You that are grieved can pity; hear my Lord. Is there a creature yet so miserable that I can pity? O my noble Lord, view my strange fortunes, And bestow on me according to your bounty, If my service can merit nothing, so much as may serve to keep That little piece I hold of life, from cold and hunger.
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)
To horse, to horse, we loose the morning Gentlemen. What, haue you log'd the Deere below? Yes, they are ready for the bow. Who shoots? The Princesse. No, shee'le hunt. Shee'le take a stand I say. Who else? Why the young strange Prince. He shall shoote in a stone bow for me, I neuer lou'd his beyond-sea-shippe, since he forsooke the Say, for paying ten shillings: he was there at the fall of a Deare, and would needes out ofhis Mightinesse, giue ten groates for the docets; mary his steward would haue the villuet head into the bargaine, to turfe his hat withall, I thinke he should loue venery: he and old Sir Tristrum: for ifye be remembred, hee forsooke a Stagge once, to strike a rascall milking in a meddow, and her hee kild i'the eye. Who shootes else? The Lady Gallatea. That's a good wench, an shee would not chide vs for tumbling of her women in the brakes, she's liberal, and by the gods, they say honest, and whether that be a fault or no, I haue nothing to do, there's all. No, one more, Megra. That's a firker I'faith boy, there's a wench will ride her hanches as hard after a kennell of hounds as a hunting sadle, & whē she comes home, get vm clapt, and all is well againe, I haue knowne her lose her selfe three times in one after-noone, if the Woods had beene answerable, and has bin worke enough for one man to finde her, and has swet for't: shee rides well, and shee payes well, harke else. Oh that I had beene nourisht in the woods, With milke of goates, and Acrons, and not knowne The right of Crownes, nor the dissembling traines Ofcruell loue: but dig'd my selfe a Caue, Where I, my fire, my Cattell and my bed, Might haue beene shut together in one shed, And then had taken me some mountaine girle, Beaten with winds, chaste as the rocke whereon she dwelt, That might haue strewd my bed with leaues and reedes, And with the skins of beasts our neighbours, and haue borne Out her big breasts, my large course ifsue: This had bin a life free from vexation. Oh! wicked men, aninnocent may walk safe amongst beasts, Nothing assaults me here, I see my greeued Lord, sits as His soule were searching out a way to leaue his body. Pardon mee that brake thy last commandement, for I must speake: You that are greeu'd can pittie; heare my Lord. Is there a creature yet so miserable that I can pittie? O my noble Lord, view my strange fortunes, And bestow on me according to your bounty, If my seruice can merit nothing, so much as may serue to keepe That little peece I hold of life, from cold and hunger.