Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1599 [1598-1599] (Annals) comedy · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men T22 Shepherds, flocks and Pan typicality 0.86 · 506 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T22: shepherd, pan, shepherds, love, sheep, flocks, fair, shepherdess, swain, away.
And I mine: I remember when I was in love, I broke my sword upon a stone, and bid him take that for coming a night to Iane Smile, and I remember the kissing of her batler, and the Cow's dugs that her pretty chopped hands had milked; and I remember the wooing of a peascod instead of her, from whom I took two cod, and giving her them again, said with weeping tears, wear these for my sake: we that are true Lovers, run into strange capers; but as all is mortal in nature, so is all nature in love, mortal in folly. Thou speakest wiser than thou art ware of. Nay, I shall ne'er be ware of mine own wit, till I break my shins against it. Ioue, Ioue, this Shepherd's passion, Is much upon my fashion. And mine, but it grows something stolen with me. I pray you, one of you question yond man, If he for gold will give us any food, I faint almost to death. Holla; you Clown. Peace fool, he's not thy kinsman. Who calls? Your betters Sir. Else are they very wretched. Peace I say; good even to your friend. And to you gentle Sir, and to you all. I prithee Shepherd, if that love or gold Can in this desert place buy entertainment, Bring us where we may rest ourselves, and feed: Here's a young maid with travail much oppressed, And faints for succour. Fair Sir, I pity her, And wish for her sake more than for mine own, My fortunes were more able to relieve her; But I am shepherd to another man, And do not shear the Fleeces that I graze: My master is of churlish disposition, And little wreaks to find the way to heaven By doing deeds of hospitality. Besides his Coat, his Flocks, and bounds of feed Are now on sale, and at our sheep-coat now By reason of his absence there is nothing That you will feed on: but what is, come see, And in my voice most welcome shall you be. What is he that shall buy his flock and pasture? That young Swain that you saw here but erewhile, That little cares for buying any thing. I pray thee, if it stand with honesty, Buy thou the Cottage, pasture, and the flock, And thou shalt have to pay for it of us. And we will mend thy wages: I like this place, and willingly could Waste my time in it. Assuredly the thing is to be sold: Go with me, if you like upon report, The soil, the profit, and this kind of life, I will your very faithful Feeder be, And buy it with your Gold right suddenly. Under the green wood tree, who loves to lie with me, And turn his merry Note, unto the sweet Birds throat: Come hither, come hither, come hither: here shall he see no enemy, But Winter and rough Weather. More, more, I prithee more. It will make you melancholy Monsieur Iaques
nodes 536–591 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 14 of 44 in this edition
Length
506 words · 658 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T22 — Shepherds, flocks and Pancross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.856 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
seed 43: T24 · seed 44: T25 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
And I mine: I remember when I was in loue, I broke my ſword vpon a ſtone, and bid him take that for comming a night to Iane Smile, and I remember the kiſſing of her batler, and the Cowes dugs that her prettie chopt hands had milk'd; and I remember the wooing of a peaſcod inſtead of her, from whom I tooke two cods, and giuing her them againe, ſaid with weeping teares, weare theſe for my ſake: wee that are true Louers, runne into ſtrange capers; but as all is mortall in nature, ſo is all nature in loue, mortall in folly. Thou ſpeak'ſt wiſer then thou art ware of. Nay, I ſhall nere be ware of mine owne wit, till I breake my ſhins againſt it. Ioue, Ioue, this Shepherds paſſion, Is much vpon my faſhion. And mine, but it growes ſomething ſtale with mee. I pray you, one of you queſtion yon'd man, If he for gold will giue vs any foode, I faint almoſt to death. Holla; you Clowne. Peace foole, he's not thy kinſman. Who cals? Your betters Sir. Elſe are they very wretched. Peace I ſay; good euen to your friend. And to you gentle Sir, and to you all. I prethee Shepheard, if that loue or gold Can in this deſert place buy entertainment, Bring vs where we may reſt our ſelues, and feed: Here's a yong maid with trauaile much oppreſſed, And faints for ſuccour. Faire Sir, I pittie her, And wiſh for her ſake more then for mine owne, My fortunes were more able to releeue her; But I am ſhepheard to another man, And do not ſheere the Fleeces that I graze: My maſter is of churliſh diſpoſition, And little wreakes to finde the way to heauen By doing deeds of hoſpitalitie. Beſides his Coate, his Flockes, and bounds of feede Are now on ſale, and at our ſheep-coat now By reaſon of his abſence there is nothing That you will feed on: but what is, come ſee, And in my voice moſt welcome ſhall you be. What is he that ſhall buy his flocke and paſture? That yong Swaine that you ſaw heere but erewhile, That little cares for buying any thing. I pray thee, if it ſtand with honeſtie, Buy thou the Cottage, paſture, and the flocke, And thou ſhalt haue to pay for it of vs. And we will mend thy wages: I like this place, and willingly could Waſte my time in it. Aſſuredly the thing is to be ſold: Go with me, if you like vpon report, The ſoile, the profit, and this kinde of life, I will your very faithfull Feeder be, And buy it with your Gold right ſodainly. Vnder the greene wood tree, who loues to lye with mee, And turne his merrie Note, vnto the ſweet Birds throte: Come hither, come hither, come hither: Heere ſhall he ſee no enemie, But Winter and rough Weather. More, more, I pre'thee more. It will make you melancholly Monſieur Iaques