Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1601 [1601-1602] (Annals) comedy · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men unassigned nearest T4 Love-longing and the lover's complaint · 481 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T4: love, heart, sweet, loves, fair, phillis, eyes, beauty, amyntas, lovers.
Dear Lady. Give me leave, beseech you: I did send, After the last enchantment you did hear, A Ring in chase of you. So did I abuse Myself, my servant, and I fear me you: Under your hard construction must I sit, To force that on you in a shameful cunning Which you knew none of yours. What might you think? Have you not set mine Honour at the stake, And baited it with all th' unmuzled thoughts That tyrannous heart can think? To one of your receiving Enough is shown, a Cypress, not a bosom, Hides my heart: so let me hear you speak. I pity you. That's a degree to love. No not a grize: for 'tis a vulgar proof That very oft we pity enemies. Why then me thinks 'tis time to smile again: O world, how apt the poor are to be proud? If one should be a prey, how much the better To fall before the Lion, than the Wolf? The clock upbraids me with the waste of time: Be not afraid good youth, I will not have you, And yet when wit and youth is come to harvest, your wife is like to reap a proper man: There lies your way, due West. Then Westward ho: Grace and good disposition attend your Ladyship: you'll nothing Madam to my Lord, by me: Stay: I prithee tell me what thou thinkest of me? That you do think you are not what you are. If I think so, I think the same of you. Then think you right: I am not what I am. I would you were, as I would have you be. Would it be better Madam, than I am? I wish it might, for now I am your fool. O what a deal of scorn, looks beautiful? In the contempt and anger of his lip, A murderous guilt shows not itself more soon, Then love that would seem hid: Love's night, is noon. Cesario, by the Roses of the Spring, By maid-hood, honour, truth, and every thing, I love thee so, that maugre all thy pride, Nor wit, nor reason, can my passion hide: Do not extort thy reasons from this clause, For that I woe, thou therefore hast no cause: But rather reason thus, with reason fetter; Love sought, is good: but given unsought, is better. By innocence I swear, and by my youth, I have one heart, one bosom, and one truth, And that no woman has, nor never none Shall mistress be of it, save I alone. And so adieu good Madam, never more, Will I my Master's tears to you deplore. Yet come again: for thou perhaps mayst move That heart which now abhors, to like his love. No faith, I'll not stay a jot longer: Thy reason dear venom, give thy reason. You must needes yield your reason, Sir Andrew?
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)
Deere Lady. Giue me leaue, beſeech you: I did ſend, After the laſt enchantment you did heare, A Ring in chace of you. So did I abuſe My ſelfe, my ſeruant, and I feare me you: Vnder your hard conſtruction muſt I ſit, To force that on you in a ſhamefull cunning Which you knew none of yours. What might you think? Haue you not ſet mine Honor at the ſtake, And baited it with all th' vnmuzled thoughts That tyrannous heart can think? To one of your receiuing Enough is ſhewne, a Cipreſſe, not a boſome, Hides my heart: ſo let me heare you ſpeake. I pittie you. That's a degree to loue. No not a grize: for tis a vulgar proofe That verie oft we pitty enemies. Why then me thinkes 'tis time to ſmile agen: O world, how apt the poore are to be proud? If one ſhould be a prey, how much the better To fall before the Lion, then the Wolfe? The clocke vpbraides me with the waſte of time: Be not affraid good youth, I will not haue you, And yet when wit and youth is come to harueſt, your wife is like to reape a proper man: There lies your way, due Weſt. Then Weſtward hoe: Grace and good diſpoſition attend your Ladyſhip: you'l nothing Madam to my Lord, by me: Stay: I prethee tell me what thou thinkſt of me? That you do thinke you are not what you are. If I thinke ſo, I thinke the ſame of you. Then thinke you right: I am not what I am. I would you were, as I would haue you be. Would it be better Madam, then I am? I wiſh it might, for now I am your foole. O what a deale of ſcorne, lookes beautifull? In the contempt and anger of his lip, A murdrous guilt ſhewes not it ſelfe more ſoone, Then loue that would ſeeme hid: Loues night, is noone. Ceſario, by the Roſes of the Spring, By maid-hood, honor, truth, and euery thing, I loue thee ſo, that maugre all thy pride, Nor wit, nor reaſon, can my paſſion hide: Do not extort thy reaſons from this clauſe, For that I woo, thou therefore haſt no cauſe: But rather reaſon thus, with reaſon fetter; Loue ſought, is good: but giuen vnſought, is better. By innocence I ſweare, and by my youth, I haue one heart, one boſome, and one truth, And that no woman has, nor neuer none Shall miſtris be of it, ſaue I alone. And ſo adieu good Madam, neuer more, Will I my Maſters teares to you deplore. Yet come againe: for thou perhaps mayſt moue That heart which now abhorres, to like his loue. No faith, Ile not ſtay a iot longer: Thy reaſon deere venom, giue thy reaſon. You muſt neede yeelde your reaſon, Sir Andrew?