Jonson, Ben · published 1631 · first performed or written 1629 [licensed for stage, Jan 19] (Annals) comedy · King's Men T4 Love-longing and the lover's complaint typicality 0.74 · 485 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T4: love, heart, sweet, loves, fair, phillis, eyes, beauty, amyntas, lovers.
Leap her? I lip her, foolish Queen at Arms, Thy blazon's false: wilt thou blaspheme thine office?) But, we must take, and understand this love Along still, as a name of dignity; Not pleasure. Mark you that, my light young Lord?) True love hath no unworthy thought, no light, Loose, unbecoming appetite, or strain, But fixed, constant, pure, immutable. I relish not these philosophical feasts: Give me a banquet o'sense, like that of Ovid: A form, to take the eye; a voice, mine care; Pure aromatics, to my scent; a soft, Smooth, dainty hand, to touch; and, for my taste, ambrosiac kisses, to melt down the palate.) They are the earthly, lower form of lovers, Are only taken with what strikes the senses! And love by that loose scale. Although I grant, We like, what's fair and graceful in an object, And (true) would use it, in the all we tend to, Both of our civil, and domestic deeds. In ordering of an army, in our style, Apparel, gesture, building, or what not? All arts, and actions do affect their beauty. But put the case, in travail I may meet Some gorgeous Structure, a brave frontispiece, Shall I stay captive i'the outer court, Surprised with that, and not advance to know Who dwells there, and inhabiteth the house? There is my friendship to be made, within; With what can love me again: not, with the walls, Doors, windows, architrabes, the frieze, and coronice. My end is lost in loving of a face, An eye, lip, nose, hand, foot, or other part, Whose all is but a statue, if the mind Move not, which only can make the return. The end of love is, to have two made one In will, and in affection, that the minds Be first inoculated, not the bodies. Gi' me the body, if it be a good one. Nay, sweet my Lord, I must appeal the Sovereign For better quarter; If you hold your practice; Tru. Silence, pain of imprisonment: Hear the Court. The body's love is frail, subject to change, And alter still, with it: The minds is firm, One, and the same, proceedeth first, from weighing, And well examining, what is fair, and good; Then, what is like in reason, fit in manners; That breeds good will: good will desire of union. So knowledge first, begets benevolence, Benevolence breeds friendship, friendship love. And where it starts or steps aside from this, It is a mere degenerous appetite, A lost, oblique, depraved affection, And bears no mark, or character of Love. How am I changed! By what alchemy Of love, or language, am I thus translated! His tongue is tipped with the philosopher's stone, And that hath touched me through every vain! I feel that transmutation o'my blood, As I were quite become another creature, And all he speaks, it is projection! Well feigned, my Lady: now her parts begin!
seed 43: T2 · seed 44: T3 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Leape her? I lip her, foolish Queene at Armes, Thy blazon's false: wilt thou blaspheme thine office?) But, we must take, and vnderstand this loue Along still, as a name of dignity; Not pleasure. Mark you that, my light yong Lord?) True loue hath no vnworthy thought, no light, Loose, vn-becoming appetite, or straine, But fixed, constant, pure, immutable. I relish notthese philosophicall feasts: Giue me a banquet o'sense, like that of Ovid: A forme, to take the eye; a voyce, mine care; Pure aromatiques, to my sent; a soft, Smooth, deinty hand, to touch; and, for my taste, Ambrosiack kisses, to melt downe the palat.) They are the earthly, lower forme oflouers, Are only taken with what strikes the senses! And loue by that loose scale. Although I grant, We like, what's saire and gracefull in an obiect, And (true) would vse it, in the all we tend to, Both of our ciuill, and domestick deedes. In ordering of an army, in our style, Apparell, gesture, building, or what not? All arts, and actions doe affect their beauty. But put the case, in trauayle I may meet Some gorgeous Structure, a braue Frontispice, Shall I stay captiue 'the outer court, Surpris'd with that, and not aduance to know Who dwels there, and inhabiteth the house? There is my friendship to be made, within; With what can loue me againe: not, with the walles, Dores, windo'es, architrabes, the frieze, and coronice. My end is lost in louing of a face, An eye, lip, nose, hand, foot, or other part, Whose all is but a statue, if the mind Moue not, which only can make the returne. The end of loue is, to haue two made one In will, and in affection, that the mindes Be first inoculated, not the bodies. Gi' me the body, if it be a good one. Nay, sweet my Lord, I must appeale the Soueraigne For better quarter; If you hold your practise; Tru. Silence, paine of imprisonment: Heare the Court. The bodyes loue is fraile, subiect to change, And alter still, with it: The mindes is firme, One, and the same, proceedeth first, from weighing, And well examining, what is faire, and good; Then, what is like in reason, fit in manners; That breeds good will: good will desire of vnion. So knowledge first, begets beneuolence, Beneuolence breeds friendship, friendship loue. And where it starts or steps aside from this, It is a mere degenerous appetite, A lost, oblique, deprau'd affection, And beares no marke, or character of Loue. How am I changed! By what alchimy Of loue, or language, am I thus translated! His tongue is tip'd with the Philosophers stone, And that hath touch'd me through euery vaine! I feele that transmutation o'my blood, As I were quite become another creature, And all he speakes, it is proiection! Well fain'd, my Lady: now her parts begin!