Dekker, Thomas / Massinger, Philip · published 1622 · first performed or written 1620 [licensed for stage, Oct 6; revised and re-licensed for stage, Jul 7, 1624] (Annals) tragedy · Red Bull (Revels) Company (first) unassigned nearest T4 Love-longing and the lover's complaint · 498 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T4: love, heart, sweet, loves, fair, phillis, eyes, beauty, amyntas, lovers.
She smiles, Unmoved by Mars, as if she were assured Death looking on her constancy would forget The use of his inevitable hand. Derided to? dispatch I say. Thou fool That gloriest in having power to ravish A trifle from me I am weary of: What is this life? to me not worth a thought Or if to be esteemed, 'tis that I lose it To win a better, e'en thy realice serves To me but as a ladder to mount up To such a height of happiness where I shall Look down with scorn on thee, and on the world, Where circled with true pleasures, placed above The reach of death or time, 'twill be my glory To think at what an, easy price I bought it. There's a perpetual spring, perpetual youth, No joint benumbing cold, nor scorching heat, Famine nor age have any being there: Forget for shame your Tempe, bury in Oblivion, your feigned your Hesperian Orchards The Golden fruit kept by the watchful Dragon Which did require Hercules to get it Compared with what grows in all plenty there, Deserves not to be named. The power I serve Laughs at your happy Arabia, or the Elysian shades, for he hath made his bowers Better indeed than you can fancy yours. O take me thither with you. Trace my steps And be assured you shall. With mine own hands He rather stop that little breath is left thee, And rob thy killing fever. By no means, Let him go with her, do seduced young man, And wait upon thy saint in death, do, do, And when you come to that imagined place, That place of all delights, pray you observe me, And meet those cursed things I once called daughters, Whom I have sent as harbingers before you, If there be any truth in your religion, In thankfulness to me that with care hasten Your journey thither, pray send me some Small pittance of that curious fruit you boast of. Grant that I may go with her, and I will. Wilt thou in thy last minute damn thyself? The gates to hell are open. Know thou tyrant Thou agent for the devil thy great master Though thou art most unworthy to taste of it, I can and will. Oh! mountains fall upon me, Or hide me in the bottom of the deep, Where light may never find me. What's the matter? This is prodigious, and confirms her witch craft. Harpax my Harpax speak. I dare not stay, Should I but hear her once more I were lost, Some whirl wind snatch me from this cursed place, To which compared (and with what now I suffer) hell's torments are sweet slumbers. Follow him. He is distracted, and I must not lose him, Thy charms upon my servant cursed witch, Gives thee a short reprieve, let her not die Till my return. She minds him not, what object Is her eye fixed on? I see nothing.
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)
She smiles, Vnmou'd by Mars, as if she were assur'd Death looking on her constancy would forget The vse of his ineuitable hand. Derided to? dispatch I say. Thou foole That gloriest in hauing power to rauish A trifle from me I am weary of: What is this life? to me not worth a thought Or if to bee esteemd, 'tis that I loose it To win a better, eu'n thy realice serues To me but as a ladder to mount vp To such a height of happinesse where I shall Looke downe with scorne on thee, and on the world, Where circl'd with true pleasures, plac'd aboue The reach of death or time, twill be my glory To thinke at what an, easie price I bought it. There's a perpetuall spring, perpetuall youth, No ioynt benumming cold, nor scorehing heate, Famine nor age haue any being there: Forget for shame your Tempe, burie in Obliuion, your fainde your Hesperian Orchards The Golden fruite kept by the watchfull Dragon Which did require Hercules to get it Compar'd with what growes in all plenty there, Deserues not to be nam'd. The power I serue Laughs at your happy Arabie, or the Elizian shades, for he hath made his bowers Better indeed then you can fancy yours. O take me thither with you. Trace my steps And be assurd you shall. With mine owne hands He rather stop that little breath is left thee, And rob thy killing feauer. By no means, Let him go with her, do seduc'd yong man, And waite vpon thy saint in death, do, do, And when you come to that imagind place, That place of all delights, pray you obserue me, And meete those cursed things I once call'd daughters, Whom I haue sent as harbingers before you, If there be any truth in your religion, In thankfulnesse to me that with care hasten Your iourney thither, pray send me some Small pittance of that curious fruit you bost of. Grant that I may goe with her, and I will. Wilt thou in thy last minute dam thy selfe? The gates to hell are open. Know thou tyrant Thou agent for the diuell thy great master Though thou art most vnworthy to tast of it, I can and will. Oh! mountaines fall vpon me, Or hide me in the bottome of the deepe, Where light may neuer find me. Whats the matter? This is prodigious, and confirms her witch craft. Harpax my Harpax speake. I dare not stay, Should I but heare her once more I were lost, Some whirle winde snatch me from this cursed place, To which compar'd (and with what now I suffer) Hels totments are sweet slumbers. Follow him. He is distracted, and I must not loose him, Thy charms vpon my seruant cursed witch, Giues thee a short repricue, lethernot die Till my returne. She minds him not, what obiect Is her eye fixd on? I see nothing.