Fletcher, Phineas · published 1631 · first performed or written 1615 [Mar 13] (Annals) pastoral · at University T4 Love-longing and the lover's complaint typicality 0.87 · 507 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T4: love, heart, sweet, loves, fair, phillis, eyes, beauty, amyntas, lovers.
Olinda, know'st not yet the treachery Of Cosma, she thy greatest enemy? Prithee let me see't: shouldst thou this liquour prove, I tell thee, friend, 'twill quench thy life and love. But so I'll temper't, it shall better please thee, And after few spent hours shall ever ease thee. 'tis beyond art, who there can give relief. Where patients hate the cure, more than the grief? Yes, by my art, before thouart 12 hours older, I'll ease thy heart, though never make it colder. Glaucilla and Olinda? I mar'le what mettle What leaden earth and water nature put Into these Nymphs, as cold, as dull, as frozen As the hard rocks they dwell on! But my Mistress she's all quicksilver, never still, still moving, Now is she with some shepherd or some fisher, And here she sets me to entertain all comers: This is the hour her lover's use to muster. But who should this be? is't you, old boy? Old ten i'th' hundred, are you the captain? boo, Beshrew your heart, you are a very naughty boy, I shake every joint of me. No shaking palsy, nor cramp has ta'en possession Of your nimble limbs ha, ha, he. Boy, where's thy Mistress? Where she would be. Where's that? Where you would be, What, in her bed? Ah old goat, do I smell you? yet in her bed? May not I speak a word or two with her what a fool 'tis? thou hast spoken twice a already I But I would speak them in her ear. I know your errand but I prithee tell me Fredocaldo How is't possible that all the bellows in love's father's shop Should kindle any fire in such a frost? thou know'st not what is love, I tell thee boy I love fair Cosma more than all her lovers. Now in my conscience he says true, this old wood Makes a brighter fire than the greenest ever: Conchylio thouart deceived, hast not seen That of thee May the lust of all the year Nipped with the hoary frost grows cold and chare? And oft October though the years declining With many dainty flowers is fairly shining For as the flaming sun puts out the fire So may the heat of love quench loves desires. Can this dotard do as well as speak, he might— I tell thee boy, when I was young— That was at the siege of Troy Now shall we have, more tales than ever poets made But what will you give me Fredocaldo If I help thee in the rocky cave, near to the myrtle grove To speak with Cosma all alone. If thou'lt do it, I'll give thee as fair an otter tamed for fishing as ever was in Sicily. Your hand on that: Ah old Saturn cold and dry we'll I'll do't But when Conchylio when? Within this hour expect her. Wilt thou be sure. Why did I ever deceive you? never never: believe me Fredocaldo I say believe me then. Farewell; I'll keep my promise.
seed 43: T2 · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Olinda, knowst not yet the treachery Of Cosma, she thy greatest enemy? Prethee let me see't: shouldst thou this liquor proue, I tell thee, friend, 'twill quench thy life and loue. But so Ile temper't, it shall better please thee, And after few spent houres shall euer ease thee. Tis beyond art, who there can giue reliefe. Where patients hate the cure, more then the griefe? Yes, by my art, before th'art 12 houres older, Ile ease thy heart, though neuer make it colder. Glaucilla and Olinda? I marle what mettle What leaden earth and water nature put Into these Nymphes, as cold, as dull, as frozen As the hard rockes they dwell on! But my Mistris Shee's all quicksiluer, neuer still, still mouing, Now is she with some shepheard or some fisher, And here she sets me to entertaine all commers: This is the houre her Louers vse to muster. But who should this be? ist you, old boy? Old ten i'th hundred, are you the captaine? boh, Beshrew your heart, you are a very naughty boy, I shake euery ioynt of me. No shaking palsey, nor crmpe has tane possession Of your nimble limbes ha, ha, he. Boy, where's thy Mistris? Where she would bee. Where's that? Where you would bee, What, in her bed? Ah old goate doe I smell you? yet in her bed? May not I speake a word or two with her what a foole tis? thou hast spoken twice a allreadie I But I would speake them in her eare. I know your errand but I preethee tell mee Fredocaldoe How ist possible that all the bellowes in loues fathers shoppe Should kindle any fire in uch a frost? hou knowst not what is loue, I tell thee boy I loue faire Cosma more then al her louers. Nw in my conscience he says true, this old wood Makes a bighter fire then the greenest euer: Conchylio th'art deceiud, hast not seene That of the May the lust of all the yeare Nipt with the hoarie fost grows cold and chare? And oft October thogh the yeares declining With many daintie flowers is fairely shining For as the flaming sunne puts out the fire So may the heate of loue quench loues desires. Coud this dotard doe as well as speake, he might— I ell thee boy, when I was young— That was at the siedge of Troy Now shall wee hau, more tales then euer poets made But wat will you giue mee Fredocaldoe If I helpe thee in the rockie caue, neere to the mirtle groue To spake with Cosma all alone. If thou'l doe it, Ile giue thee as faire an otter tamd for fishing as euer was i Sicely. Your hand on hat: Ah old Saturne cold and dry we'l Ile doe't But when Conchylio when? Within this houre expect er. Wilt thou besure. Why did I euer deceiue you? neuer neuer: beleeue mee Fredocaldoe I say beleeue mee then. Farewell; I'le keepe my promise.